#Yes i love computer science and what we’re learning is very interesting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atlafan · 4 years

Text

It’s Electric - One Shot

a/n: I have no idea what this is or why I thought of it, but enjoy CEO!Harry with a blue collar!Y/N

Warnings: Smut (slow burn, I’m so sorry.) Not proofread, sorry!

Words: 15.2K

Being a female, blue collar worker was interesting to say the least. Most of the guys you worked with were either fresh out of college and starting their apprenticeship, or they were in their mid-forties, married with kids. You did the college thing, and got a degree in mathematics, but you didn’t want to be a teacher, and you sure as hell didn’t want to go into computer science. Your father was an electrician, and you asked him for help getting into his union. Electrical work involved a lot of math, especially trigonometry.

You were in your mid-twenties, able to live alone, and working a job that had good benefits. A lot of your friends didn’t quite understand it because you sometimes had to work traditional holidays, and you really couldn’t take time off. But the overtime pay was incredible, and when you were able to take a vacation, you had plenty of money for a good time. The one thing you were sort of missing was companionship.

Most of the guys on the job just assumed you were gay. It was a stupid stereotype. To be fair, you did have to wear a lot of flannel and you never wore makeup, and you constantly had hat hair from your hardhat. Again, a lot of stupid stereotypes.

Your union had gotten a contract together to do maintenance on a specific building in the city. It happened to also be where one of your best friends works so you’d be able to go on lunch together.

“Y/N!” She squeals. “Look at you, I’ve never seen you on the job before.” She tugs at your flannel. “I think you’re the reason mom jeans came back into style, you look so cute.” She was the best hype man there was.

“Thanks, Stacey.” You chuckle. “I don’t wanna get in trouble, I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

You had never changed so many lightbulbs in one sitting. You hated maintenance work, but it beat being on unemployment. Next on the list was to run some tests on the electrical outlets. You make your way through specific people’s offices. You see your friend again, her desk was outside the CEO’s. She was his executive assistant.

“Let me just make sure he’s not on a call.” She says and you nod. She knocks on the door and opens it. “Mr. Styles? The maintenance crew is here to run inspections in your office.”

“Thanks, send ‘em in.”

She smiles and gestures for you to go in. She grabs you first, pulling you back.

“Remember, he’s British, and very hot.”

“Stacey…you have a boyfriend.”

“I’m well aware, I’m just preparing you.”

You roll your eyes and walk in.

“I’ll try to keep it brief.” You tell him and he nods. You click your pen and make a few notes on your clip board. You grab your outlet tester from your tool belt and get to work. He tries to continue typing at his desk, but curiosity gets the better of him.

“This might sound rude, but I was expecting some old guy to come here for this.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” You smirk at him and continue around the room. “This office is huge.”

“Well…it should be. Worked hard enough for it.”

“Right, you’re the CEO?”

“That’s right, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that.” You make a disgusted face.

“Sorry, it’s just something I say.” He blushes.

“I need to get under there.”

“Excuse me?”

“Under your desk, I need to check the floor outlets.”

“Oh.” He stands up and moves his chair out of the way. He looks away as you get on your hands and knees, but he’s a man, so his eyes flicker down to your ass. He looks away immediately. You stand back up and make some notes.

“Alright, all set. Have a good one.”

“That’s it?”

“Pretty routine inspection. You all take good care of your offices. Nothing to worry about. We replaced all the lightbulbs that needed it, made them all LED.”

“Thanks.” He smiles.

You walk out and confirm with Stacey where you’ll be meeting her for lunch. Harry notices this. After you’re gone, Harry goes out to Stacey’s desk.

“Stacey, you’re friends with that woman?”

“Yeah! We go way back, Mr. Styles. She’s my best friend, actually. We’re having lunch in a bit, would you like to join us?”

“No.” He chuckles. “No, that’s alright. Um…so she’s an electrician?”

“Mhm, she’s really smart. She was top of her apprenticeship program a few years ago. She’s part of some union now that he dad was in. She likes it.”

“Ah…” He looks away for a moment. “You and I know each other pretty well at this point, right?”

“I’d say so. I mean, my boyfriend and I have been to your house for parties.” You giggle. “Why?”

“Is she single?”

‘Y/N? Yeah! Totally single.” She beams. “Not that she can’t get a date, she can. She’s just been busy lately.” She bites her bottom lip. “Do you…want me to give you her number?”

“Only if she wants to. See what she thought of me on your lunch, would you?”

“I’m on it.”

You and Stacey meet up at a Panera Bread not too far from the office building. You’d be doing inspections there all week, on every floor.

“Alright, I’m just going to come right out and say it. Harry wants your number!” She squeals.

You nearly choke on your salad.

“Who?!”

“Harry! Mr. Styles, my boss. The CEO of-“

“Okay, okay. What the fuck, I talked to him for like two seconds. He also called me darling, I didn’t like that.”

“He calls everyone darling, or love. He’s British, remember.”

“What does that have to…? Never mind.” You shake your head.

“He must think you’re cute. He hasn’t dated in a while, as far as I know. He’s super sweet, Y/N. Can I give him your number, please? He could really sweep you off your feet.”

“I’m not looking to be swept, I’m looking for a partner, someone to spend time with. Not someone who flashes cash around.”

“You’re making excuses.”

“Fine.” You shrug. “Give him my number.”

Stacey can’t wait to get back up to her office to give Harry your number. She knocks on his door and enters. He’s just finishing his lunch.

“Here.” She slaps a piece of paper on his desk. “That’s her number. I’ll warn you, she’s stubborn, so…play it cool.”

“Don’t I always?”

“I said cool, not suave. She hates that shit.”

“When should I call? I don’t wanna seem too eager…”

“She might think you’re playing around if you don’t call her tonight. Call her after work.”

You were hanging out on your couch, fresh out of the shower in a tank top and shorts, digging into a pint of ice cream. Your phone goes off, and you see it’s not anyone you know. You swipe to answer and stick your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“Hello?”

“Hi, uh, is this Y/N?”

“This is she.”

“It’s Harry.”

“Who? Oh! Mr. Styles from the office building.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “That’s me.”

“Stacey gave you my number?”

“She did. I hope it’s alright that I asked her for it.”

“Hey, however your relationship works is none of my business.” You take a bite of your ice cream. “So, why’d you want my number anyways?”

“So I could ask you out.”

For the second time today you choke on your food.

“Excuse me, one second.”

He hears you coughing and he tries not to laugh. You get a glass of water, and sit back down.

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

“Why do you want to ask me out?”

“I, well, to be blunt I’m attracted to you.”

“Why?” You scoff. “Got a thing for girls in loose jeans?”

“They weren’t that loose.”

“What?”

“Nothing, listen, I think you’re pretty and I just thought-“

“Pretty? Wow.” You scoff.

“You’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” He sighs.

“Hard work doesn’t seem foreign to you. It’s how you got that nice office of yours isn’t it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to go out for dinner with me some time?”

“I’m free Saturday if you are.”

“I’m free.”

“Pick me up at seven, I’ll text you my address when the time comes.” You hang up before he has a second to say anything else.

You text Stacey to let her know you’d be going out with Harry on Saturday. You were actually sort of excited.

On Saturday, you go to your hairdresser for a blow out, and to have your nails done. It was a very nice treat. You get your make up on and pick out one of the dresses you never get to wear. It was black and simple, but you were exited to wear it. You get a call from Harry right at seven.

“Hello?”

“Just pulled up, I’m downstairs.”

“Be down in a second.” You grab your purse and head down.

Harry had a suit on and was standing outside a black car. His jaw nearly drops when he sees you. All he had to go on was that day in his office. You looked like a completely different person.

“You look…lovely.”

“Thanks.” You smile. “I don’t get to dress up very often.” You blush slightly.

He opens the back door of the car for you and you raise an eyebrow.

“I have a driver.”

“Oh…fancy.”

You slide into the car, and Harry comes around on the other side. He taps on the partition, and the car moves.

“I hope you like Asian food.”

“Love it.” You say. “Oh! Are we going to that hibachi place?”

“No, but it’ll sort of be like that.”

“Do you always use a driver?”

“For city stuff, yeah. When I’m out at the beach or upstate I drive myself. Sometimes I get my picture taken when I’m out, learned a long time ago it’s best to just have a driver.”

“Like…paparazzi?”

“Yeah…sometimes. Not that often anymore. There was this, uh, model that I dated a few years ago-“

“Tell me again, why were you so attracted to me?”

“You caught my attention. Not a lot of people do.”

Your cheeks grow slightly red. You feel the car come to a full stop. The driver gets out and opens the door for you. Harry slides out after you. You watch as he tells the driver how long you’ll roughly be. As you walk into the restaurant, the hostess greets Harry almost immediately. You follow her past the main dining area, and are brought into a private dining room. There was a table for two set up already. You give him a confused look.

“I like my privacy.” He pulls your chair out for your and you sit down.

“Is there any particular reason we’re sitting next to each other.”

“The chef is going to make our food for us in a few minutes. Told you it was sort of like hibachi.” He grabs the bottle of wine on the table and opens it. “Would you like some? It’s plum wine, it’s delicious.”

“Um…sure.” He pours you some and you take a small sip. “Hm, different.”

“So, how does one become an electrician?”

“How does one become a CEO?” You smirk. “Lots of hard work, school, and luck.”

Before Harry can speak again the chef walks in, and a few other follow him in with a cart. There was a flat top where he’d be able to make whatever you wanted. One of the waiters brings over a tray of sushi to start with. You grab your chopsticks and take a piece.

“Oh, that’s good. I love sashimi.” You say.

“Good evening, folks.” The chef smiles. “Tonight I’ll be preparing a delicious steak, kale salad, and for dessert fried banana ice cream.”

“That all work for you? I sorta had to tell them ahead of time.”

“Sounds amazing.”

You watch as the chef prepares the steak and the kale. It smelled delicious already, and it was cool to watch as it was done. You and Harry continue to enjoy the sushi in the meantime.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“About what?”

“Becoming an electrician.”

“Oh…well, my dad was one, and he was in a union. I have a B.S. in Mathematics, but I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with it, so I asked my dad for some help getting into the union, and the rest was history. I get to use my degree every day. Not a lot of people can say that.” You smile and take a sip of the wine. “Do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Schmooze on a first date.”

“I’m not schmoozing.” He gasps.

“I’m just saying…this is, like, really fancy. You could have taken me to a burger joint, I’m not picky. I just don’t want you thinking you to need to flash your cash around. I get it, you’re reach and do well for yourself, you know? I wanna know what’s underneath all that.”

Two plates are put in front of you.

“Thank you.” Harry says to the chef and everyone else leaves the room. “I wasn’t trying to flash my cash.” He cuts his steak and takes a bite. “I just wanted to show you a good time.”

“By booking a private room at a really nice restaurant?” You smirk and take a bite of your steak. “Although, this food is delicious.” You use your napkin to pat the corners of your mouth gently. “How’d you get into the business that you’re in?”

“Well, I always wanted to be in sales, do a little bit of traveling, that kind of stuff. When I was in uni, the idea of property management sort of intrigued me, so I looked a little more into that. I started off in the mail room while I was getting my MBA, and then just sort of worked my way up. I bet my company has provided a lot of work to your union, other than just maintenance.”

“It definitely does, I recognized the name. You guys have put up buildings all over the place. You’re kind of like Richard Gere’s character in Pretty Woman.”

“I suppose I am! I love that movie.” He clears his throat. “So, you didn’t want to become an engineer or anything?”

“Nope, I like working with my hands.” You shrug and take a sip of your wine.

“Is it hard being in a male dominated profession?”

“Isn’t it pretty male dominated up in your office?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Most of the women up there were either assistants or other low ranking positions.”

“Are you saying your friend works a low ranking position as my executive assistant?”

“Stacey likes what she does, she feels fulfilled and needed, at least that’s what she tells me. I’m just saying, anywhere I would have gone, it would probably look the same. Besides, I’m not the only woman on the job, I’m just one of few, and I’m one of the younger ones. The guys are all nice enough.”

A few moments later a waiter comes in to clear the plates and someone else brings out the fried ice cream.

“I’ve never had this before.” You smile. “I’m excited to try it.”

“Fried ice cream is delicious, especially after eating a steak with so many spices in it.”

You both dig in. You lick your lips after taking a bite.

“Mm, that is so good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Harry squared up the bill, and out the two of you went. You thanked him over and over for paying. He wanted to ask if you felt like grabbing another drink anywhere, but he wasn’t so sure if you’d be into it. Maybe that could be saved for a second date. His driver brings you home and Harry gets out to walk you up the steps of your building.

“I had a great time.” He blushes. “I’m glad we could do this.” All you do is smile and nod. “Um, well, so I have your number, I’ll give you another call sometime?”

“Okay.” You get your keys out of your purse. “Thanks again for dinner.”

You key into your building and he watches you disappear inside. He was stunned. Not even a goodnight kiss, hell, even a hug would have sufficed. Usually when Harry took a woman out on a date at the very least he got a kiss on the cheek, if not that most of the time he would get invited up. Did he do something wrong? Were you not as attracted to him as he was to you?

“Tell me everything! I wanna know what to expect tomorrow morning and if I need to add a caramel swirl to his coffee.” Stacey giggles over the phone with you the next morning.

“It was…okay.”

“Just okay?! Didn’t he take you to that nice Japanese place?”

“Yeah, the food was excellent, but the atmosphere was weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had us seated in a private room and we basically had this personal chef. It was awkward when things got a little quiet. There was a little music in the background, but I would have felt more at ease in the main dining area.”

“He likes his privacy.”

“So he said. Apparently sometimes paparazzi follow him?”

“Yeah, about a year ago he was dating this Italian model. He started getting photographed. They followed him around a bit after they broke up, but we haven’t seen too many in a while.”

“I don’t know why he’d want to go from a model to me…”

“Oh, stop it. You’re gorgeous! So…are you saying you won’t see him again?”

“I don’t see why I would. I didn’t feel any sparks flying between us. He seems sort of hollow, Stace.”

“No! He’s so sweet! He can just be sort of…I don’t know…awkward. He’s amazing when he’s making a deal, but outside of work I know he can be a little social awkward.”

“I don’t think I wanna be with someone as rich as he is.”

“He was just trying to impress you, I’m sure. You didn’t have any fun?”

“I had a little…but not enough to go on a second date.”

Stacey swallowed hard. Harry was a very sweet man, and extremely respectful…but he wanted something he worked for it. There was no way he was going to let this, or you, go.

“Morning, Stacey.” He says to her with a smile. He grabs his coffee from her desk.

“Morning, Mr. Styles.”

“Have a good weekend?” He asks as she follows her in. He looks at the mail she’s already put on his desk.

“Yeah, Dan and I visited his parents out at the lake. It was nice.”

“Good for you guys.” He looks at her and smiles. “Been together a few years now, right? When’s he popping the question?”

“Oh, Harry.” She swats a hand at him as he chuckles. “Soon. Anyways, you’ve got a meeting at nine, and then this afternoon you’re to go to that new property we just bought. The construction workers will be there, it’ll be good for you to meet the crew.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. I’m dying to see the place again. Haven’t been since we saw it last.” He sits down at his desk. “Hate wearing those hard hats though, they always mess up my hair.” He smirks.

“I don’t think anything could mess up your hair.” She laughs and turns to leave to go back to his desk.

“Wait, uh, did you happen to speak with Y/N at all?”

“Oh! Um, was this past Saturday the big date?”

“You know it was, quit playing.”

“We spoke, yeah.”

“Did she mention me at all? Trying to gauge when I should call her next.”

“Oh, so you wanna see her again?”

“I do.” He smiles. “So, she say anything?”

“Yeah…um, she said she had a nice time.”

“Was that it?”

“Pretty much, but to be fair, we talked more about my weekend. Barely let her get a word in, you know how I can be sometimes.”

Stacey walks awkwardly back to her desk. She prayed that if he did reach out to you, you’d at least let him down easy.

Harry leaves around one in the afternoon to head to the property. He and the COO go together in a car. When they get there they both shake the foreman’s hand and walk around the property.

“The electrician’s showed up this morning. They’ve certainly got their work cut out for them.” The foreman says. “Great workers though, union contract just how you like.”

Harry nods and continues walking. He notices the electricians on their afternoon coffee break.

“Check out the suits.” Frank says to you. You smirk and look over your shoulder. You immediately look back at Frank. “What?”

“I know that guy…the one in the blue suit.”

“No shit, how?”

“He, uh, took me to dinner on Saturday.”

“What?!”

“My friend is his executive assistant, she gave him my number after we met last week doing those inspections.”

“No offense, but I thought you were gay.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Frank.” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“So…some big wig took you out? How was it?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, and I certainly don’t want to-“

“Y/N?”

You turn around slowly to look at him.

“Hi Harry.”

“Y/N, you should address him as Mr. Styles.” Your foreman says.

“That’s quite alright, we know each other.” He smiles at you.

“We sure do, excuse me.” You grab your hard hat, stick it on, and head inside with Frank.

“How do you know her?” The foreman asks Harry.

“She’s good friends with my assistant.”

The foreman brings Harry and the COO inside to show them the bit of progress that’s been made on the interior thus far. Harry sees you up on a ladder helping a wire get fed through a hole.

“Got it!” You yell up, and secure it.

Harry and the COO stick around for quite some time making sure everything was to their liking. He’s there until the end of the work day and sees you walking with your toolbox to your car. You wave goodbye to Frank as you get everything in your trunk. It was a nice size SUV. He watches as you unclip your tool belt and slightly rub at your hip bones. He decides to come over to you.

“Hi again.” He smiles and you nearly jump.

“Jesus, you’re just everywhere.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, darling.” You scrunch your face at the word. “Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.” You shake your head and throw your hard hat into your trunk. You take your hair out of its bun, and shake your hair out. “Can I help you with something?” You close your trunk and lean against your car, crossing your arms.

“I just, um, well, I was wondering when I could see you again.”

“You’re seeing me now.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I mean, when can I take you on another date?”

“Harry…” You look down, then back up to him. “I…”

“I should have texted you afterwards, right?” He sucks his teeth. “I didn’t wanna seem too eager.”

“You really had that good a time with me that you wanna take me out again?”

“Well, yeah. Didn’t you?”

You had two choices. You could either crush the man in front of you and walk away, or you could cut the guy a break and give it another go. Would it be so bad to let him take you out again? Maybe this time you could call the shots.

“I did.” You swallow. “I’d like to go out again.”

“Great!” He beams at you. “I was thinking we could-“

“I’d like to plan it.”

“Oh…well, alright. What did you have in mind?”

“You’ll find out Friday night. You’re free then?”

“I can definitely make myself available.”

“Perfect.” You turn on your heel and get into your car. Once again you leave him standing there, stunned.

“You’re giving it another shot?!” Stacey practically screams through the phone.

“Mhm.”

“What made you decide?”

“Well, he was just standing right in front of me. I felt sort of bad. I figured maybe I was being too harsh before. It can’t hurt to go out again.”

“Where are you going to take him?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I was thinking of going to that bar I’ve been to with Frank. I’ve taken you a couple of times.”

“Oh! That place with the darts and the live music?”

“Yeah! I think he needs a night to be a little less fancy, don’t you?”

“Definitely! He won’t know what hit him.”

Harry was on cloud nine all week. He couldn’t wait to see you again. He even had flowers sent to your job site. You were thoroughly embarrassed. The guys all gave you shit for it. He was a little surprised when you didn’t even text him to thank him for them, but he just brushed it off and kept his cool. When you did finally text him Thursday evening, he nearly squealed.

You: what’s your address? I’ll be picking you up around eight tomorrow

Harry: late start to the evening, where we headed?

You: that’s for me to know ;)

His stomach filled with butterflies all because you sent a winky face. He was having a few doubts that maybe you didn’t like him that much, but you were being playful with him now. This was good.

Your hair was down and wavy, you had a white tank top on with a dangly necklace, and some jeans. You drive to Harry’s building. It was much nicer than yours, naturally. You text him and let him know you’re on the street. He comes walking out moments later in a black silk shirt and a pair of yellow patterned dress pants. You squinted through the window and noticed they were sort of tight around his thighs. He waves at you and you wave back.

“This is fun already.” He says as he buckles up. He looks down at you. “I’m overdressed.”

“Not at all. You’re dressed like you, that’s good. This is how I like to dress.”

“You look cute.” He says.

“Thanks.” You start to drive off towards the bar.

“So, now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“To a bar, hope you’re thirsty.” You smirk at him.

As you continue to drive Harry takes note of the music on the radio and even the way you drive the car. You were only using one hand, on the bottom of the wheel. You were so easy going.

“This is a nice car.”

“Thanks, bought it last year. I used have a dinged up old truck.”

“Do you miss having a truck?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “I wanted something more like this. When you have a truck everyone always wants your help with stuff. It’s bad enough that I’m the handy friend.” You chuckle. “I’m always being asked to help repair stuff or whatever. I don’t mind, but sometimes it’s a lot.”

You get over to the bar and find a place to park.

“Can’t remember the last time I was on this side of town.” He comments as you walk inside.

There were a lot people around, and the bar itself was packed. There was some sports game playing, but it wouldn’t be on long once the live band would start. There were people playing darts and munching on popcorn.

“Go snag a booth, I’ll get us some beers.”

“Oh, uh…”

“What’s a matter?”

“I don’t really like beer.” He takes his wallet out. “I can grab the drinks, tell me what you want.”

“I want you to go grab us a booth. I’ll get you something other than beer.”

You turn and go up to the bar. You greet the bartender who knows you pretty well. You decide that if Harry didn’t want beer, then you wouldn’t get one either.

“Two long islands.” You grin.

You get your drinks and find Harry at a booth. He stuck out like a sore thumb, he wasn’t hard to find. You place the glasses on the table.

“I’ll grab us some popcorn. We’ll grab some real food later.”

You go up to the popcorn machine and grab a bowl to fill up. You say hello to some people you recognize and head back to the booth.

“What made you decide on a long island ice tea?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Thought it would be fun to just get drunk.” You smile. “What sort of mixed drinks do you usually get?”

“I don’t. I usually just get a scotch or something.”

“Ew.” You grimace and then take a sip of your drink. “This is much more fun.”

“You could have gotten a beer still.”

You toss a piece of popcorn into your mouth and take another sip. Harry takes a sip as well and coughs when he’s done.

“Bit heavy handed.”

“I can get you something else…”

“No, it’s fine.” He smiles. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Sometimes. Some buddies from work brought me here, and I liked it. They have free darts, and live music. The band should be starting soon.”

You were two drinks in, and you both were giggling messes. The band was loud, but fun. You had gotten into a little game of getting popcorn into the other’s mouth. Maybe Harry could let his hair down a little and act like a normal person.

By the time you each were on your third drink, you definitely knew you were drunk, and so did Harry. He was having a great time.

“I’m hungry, are you hungry?!” You had yell over the music.

“Starved!”

“Come on!”

You grab his wrist as you walk out of the place. It’s a bit chilly outside, and without thinking, Harry wraps his arm around your shoulders as you walk. You wrap yours around his waist, and he feels butterflies again. You lead him to a McDonald’s and walk in.

“Two medium big mac meals, please.” You slur as you walk up to the counter.

“I’m paying.” Harry insists.

“Nope, I got it.” You slap your credit card down. “Go fill up our drinks, I’ll wait for the food.”

Harry shuffles over to the drink station and fills the paper cups up with coke. You come over to the table he found and you both dive into the greasy food.

“Mm, I can’t remember the last time I had McDonald’s.” He grunts as he eats the food.

“Right?! It’s like, the perfect drunk food.” You suck down the coke. “I would have gotten us some flurries but the machine’s broken.”

“I have ice cream back at my place…got stuff to make sundaes actually.”

“Are you kidding?!”

“Nope, always keep that stuff around. Never know when you’re gonna need some hot fudge.”

“Well, I know where we’re going next.”

“What about your car? We’re both way too fucked up to drive.”

“It’s called uber.”

“Nonsense, I’ll call my-“

“He’ll be here in two minutes, finish up your fries.” You say, looking at your phone.

“You’re very impulsive.” He chuckles and throws some fries into his mouth.

“Live a little.” You yank him out of the booth and go outside.

You both crawl into the uber, and giggle during the ride. Harry hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. When you get to Harry’s building, he says hello to the doorman, and you just smile and wave. He keeps his hand on the small of your back as he leads you into the elevator. It was a beautiful lobby. You watch, through your foggy eyes, as Harry presses the button for the top floor where all of the pent house suites were. He leads you down a hall and keys into his place. You jaw nearly hits the floor.

“I didn’t know they made apartments this big. It’s like…a house in here!” You walk around. “Is this a staircase?!”

“Yeah, it’s two stories. There’s four bedrooms total. My main guest room is down here, and then upstairs are the rest. Got an office down that way, nice big balcony.”

“What’s a single guy need all this space for?”

“Got family and friends that come to visit. I end up hosting functions quite a bit too. Catered events, and all that.” He grabs your hand to lead you into his massive kitchen. “Can I get you some water?”

“Nope, got any alcohol?”

“You want more to drink?!”

“We’re going to have ice cream right? How about some kalua?”

“You know, I do have some. I could put it into some shot glasses.”

“Works for me.” You smile.

Harry get everything out for the sundaes. His kitchen looked like it belonged in a restaurant, but it made sense since he did say he had catered events. If he had cooks come they’d need state of the art equipment. He runs the scoop under some warm water, rolls up one of his sleeves and scoops the ice cream into two bowls. Your eyes widen as you see the veins in his hand and forearm peek out. He adds the warmed up fudge, sprinkles some nuts, and then adds some whip cream.

“Why do you have all this stuff?” You ask as you make up the shots.

“We had an ice cream social here a week or so ago. I like having themed parties.” He bites into his ice cream and moans. “I hate throwing out leftovers.”

“This fudge is really rich.” You lick your lips after taking a bite.

“Shoulda made milk shakes with this.” He takes his shot of kalua and so do you.

“Next time.” You spoon my ice cream into your mouth.

“Next time, eh?”

“Sure.” You smile. “I’m having a good time.”

“Better than last time?”

“Harry.” You put your bowl down and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll admit, I was pretty skeptical, but when you let your hair down, you’re a lot of fun.”

“So…you didn’t have any fun last time?”

“It’s not that I didn’t.” You say, shoveling more ice cream into your mouth. “But I feel like I got to know you better tonight.” You hop up on his counter and sit there comfortably as you finish your ice cream. A little bit of hot fudge lingers on the corner of your mouth.

“You have a little, uh…” He taps the corner of his mouth to show you. He moves to stand between your legs and you look up at him.

“Did I get it?”

“Not exactly.” He cups your cheeks and leans in. You can feel his breath on you. He runs his thumb over the spot. “Got it.” He sucks his thumb into his mouth and smirks at you.

Just as he’s about to turn to grab the bowls you grab at the collar of his shirt, and pull him to you, crashing your lips to his. He sinks into it, only for a second before backing away. He presses his forehead to yours.

“What’s wrong?” You breathe.

“I don’t want this to happen like this.”

“Like what?”

He steps away and looks at you.

“We’re both pretty out of sorts, Y/N.”

“It was just a kiss…”

“But it could lead to more, and I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

“Are you really going to tell me you’ve never hooked up drunk?”

“I have.”

“So…I’m sorry, I’m just really confused.” You hop down so you can stand on your feet.

“Y/N.” He cups your cheeks so you’ll look at him. “I want to be completely sober so I can fully enjoy you.”

“You’re…such a weirdo, Harry. Who says shit like that?” You step away from him.

“You know, most people find me charming.”

“Well, then I guess I’m not most people.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “Ugh, I didn’t mean for that to sound like I’m not like other girls, that would be a weird thing to say. I feel like you say things you think I’d wanna hear.”

“No, I really feel that way. I don’t want…look, if we decided to do it, I’d wanna remember it, that’s all I was trying to say.”

“So just say it like that!” You start laughing. “That I can understand.”

“I don’t know what to say around you. It’s like everything I do is wrong.”

“Not true.” You grab the whip cream can and spray some into your mouth. “You make a mean sundae.”

“Don’t hog it.” He opens his mouth and you spray some whip cream into his mouth. You both giggle.

“So…you don’t even want to keep kissing?”

“I do, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“What do you wanna do instead? My car’s all the way back at the bar, I’m way too fucked to drive…”

“You could stay here if you want. I could give you some pj’s and-“

“No, I’d rather sleep in my own bed.”

“I could call my driver.”

“This late?!”

“He’s on call.” Harry takes out his phone and sends a text. “It’s his job.”

“You’ll come for the ride?”

“Of course!” He smiles. “I have a question for you…”

“Alright.”

“Did you get the flowers I sent you earlier this week?”

“I did.” You move some hair from your face. “I’m sure you meant well, but you shouldn’t do that while I’m working again.”

“Why?” He frowns.

“It was embarrassing. Some of the guys gave me shit for it. Just…if you do it again, I mean, I like getting flowers, just have them sent to my apartment. I don’t need gifts at work. I didn’t even know where to put them.”

“So, we’re definitely seeing each other again?”

“I’d like to.” You smile.

“Great.” He smiles back. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Do you want me to have someone fired? Cause I can do that.”

“No.” You laugh. “But thanks.”

Harry leads you down to the car and you both get in the back seat. You sit really close to him. You were incredibly riled up and horny. It was the alcohol, but you were sort of disappointed that you wouldn’t be getting laid, and it sort of turned you on that Harry was being such a gentleman. You look up at him.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He looks down at you.

You move his arm to put it around you, and you look up at him with big eyes. He sighs and leans in to kiss you. His lips were so soft, and he still tasted like the hot fudge. Your hands slide up to his hair and tug on his curls. You just wanted his tongue in your mouth, but he was being so timid. His other hand goes down to your thigh, and he squeezes it, his thumb digging in to your inner thigh. You whimper slightly and then he lets go of you. The car comes to a stop, and your door is opened by the driver. Harry gets out to walk you up to your door.

“I’m going to be out of town for the next ten days.” He says, tucking some hair behind your ear. “But when I get back, I’d love to see you again.”

“Me too.”

“Good.” He gives you one last kiss before getting back into the car. He makes sure you’re inside the building before he lets the driver go. He presses the button for the partition to go down. “Charlie, I had my doubts, I really did, but she likes me, mate.”

“That’s great, sir. I’m glad she agreed to see you again.”

“Me too. She’s so…different! She’s sort of blunt too. I like that. I feel like women always just like me for my money, but she could care less! This could really be something, I can feel it.”

You told Stacey all about your date with Harry, and how good of a kisser he was. You weren’t sure how’d you last the next ten days without his lips on yours again, but you’d find ways to manage. Work was a great distraction. However, your friends continued to shit on you. One of them snuck a magazine that had Harry on the cover into your toolbox.

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes as they laugh. “What’s so funny that he likes me?”

“It’s not funny, think they’re just jealous.” Frank smirks and looks at the magazine. “It’s just odd that you’re into him.”

“He’s not exactly the type of guy I’d usually be interested in, but he means well. He’s sweet…in his own weird way. He’s quirky. I took him to that bar we’ve been to on Friday, we had a great time.”

“Look at you, trying something for a second time. When do you see him next?”

“I don’t know. He’s out of town for a couple of weeks.”

“Doing what?”

“How the fuck should I know? I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“It’s none of my business. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but he is the guy you’re seeing.”

“I’ve been on two dates with him, nothing’s set in stone.” Your morning coffee break ends you sigh. “Great, time to go into this stupid basement.” You put your hardhat on and a mask and head in with Frank.

On Thursday evening, you were just hanging out, watching TV after a long day of work. Your phone goes off and you see it’s a call from Harry.

“Hello?”

“Hi, beautiful!”

You’re sitting there with your hair up in a messy bun, pimple patches on your blemishes, and a raggedy t-shirt with stains all over it. You roll your eyes.

“What’s up?”

“Well, I finally got a free moment, and I wanted to call you. Are you busy? Should be about eight o’clock, right?”

“Yeah it is…where are you?”

“I’m in London.”

You think for a moment and you gasp.

“Harry, it’s like two in the morning over there!”

“Like I said, I finally got a free moment. I’m just getting into my flat, getting cozy.”

“What did you go to London for?”

“Business of course…and to see some family. Killing two birds with one stone.”

“Do you travel a lot?”

“Sometimes. There were some buildings I wanted to look at out here.”

“How come you didn’t bring Stacey?”

“She doesn’t always need to travel with me. We’ve connected, don’t worry. I’m not one of those helpless idiots who can’t survive without their assistant. Besides, need her there to hold down the fort.” You hear some shuffling and then the creaking of a bed, and a big sigh from him.

“So…what kept you out so late?”

“Business.”

“What Business could you possibly need to conduct at two in the morning?”

“Things operate differently over here. People like to go out late. I actually left early because I was tired.”

“That’s wild.”

“Very.” He chuckles. “What are you up to?”

“I was just watching some TV before I hit the sack.”

“Anything good on?”

“Not really.” You laugh and turn the TV off. “Kinda like hearing your voice.” You slap your forehead because you literally don’t know what possessed you to say that.

“Like hearing yours too. Sorry I haven’t been able to text much.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, really. I wouldn’t want you to think I wasn’t interested or something.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good, because I’m still really interested.”

“When do you come back?”

“Monday evening, then it’s back to the office Tuesday.”

“You never stop, do you…”

“It’s hard not to, but I like what I do.”

“I would hope so.”

“How’s your week been?”

“You should get some sleep.”

“Can’t, too awake now. Tell me how your week was, how’s the building coming along?”

“I’ve been in a dimly lit crawl space in the basement feeding wires all week. Tomorrow’s the last day of doing that. Then next week my group of people will move up to the regular basement, and then after that we’ll move on to the lobby. Other people are working on the outside as well, and then once all that’s done we’ll be able to move on to the individual offices inside.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.”

“Mhm, but it’s honest work. I can take a step back at the end of the day and see what I’ve done. I like that.”

“You’re a visual person, then.”

“I am.”

“So am I.”

“Nice to know we have one thing in common.”

“We have other things in common.” He sounds offended.

“Like what?” You giggle and sit with your knees hugged to your chest. His voice over the phone was oddly soothing to you.

“Well…I’d say we both enjoy a good joke. We both like food, although, I have to say, my stomach was pretty angry with me after I had that bic mac.”

You burst out laughing.

“So was mine. It’s always good going in.”

“Mhm, and we like each other.”

“Oh, we do?” You ask sarcastically. “Teasing. I like you.”

“You didn’t at first though.”

“You didn’t make a great impression by calling me darling in your office.”

“If I knew how derogatory it was going to come off, I never would have said it. It’s just…part of my vocabulary.”

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“When I get back, I’d love to see you again. Maybe we could have lunch or something.”

“On my jobsite? I don’t think so.”

“We could go out for dinner, then? I mean, I’ll be coming by the site next week to check out the progress.”

“Please, don’t even acknowledge me if you see me. I want things to be professional.”

“Reputation to uphold?”

“Sort of. I have a couple good friends, but not all of the guys are so accepting of women on the job. I don’t want any of them thinking I’m getting special treatment or anything because I know you. Someone put a magazine that had you on the cover in my tool box as a prank.”

“I’m sorry…I don’t really know what the big deal is though.”

“It’s like I’m in elementary school and everyone found out about my cruck. Boys never really grow up, so I’ve come to find out.”

“Can’t say I can argue with that. We’re an immature lot.” He chuckles and then yawns.

“You should really go to sleep.”

“But I like talking to you.”

“You can call me this weekend.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight…sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You sigh as you hang up. Your stomach felt weird. Did you have butterflies? You never had butterflies. Harry was definitely growing on you.

Wednesday morning, Harry came to the jobsite to check things out. He stayed in the trailer with the foreman with quite some time before going inside the building. He didn’t see you, and he was sort of sad about it. He hears a whistling noise and sees a bunch of people filing out and taking their hard hats off.

“Morning coffee break.” The foreman explains. Harry nods and squints at everyone. His eyes widen when he spots you.

He watches as you grab your thermos and pour your coffee into the little cap that works as a cup. He desperately wants to go over and say hi, but he also wanted to respect what you asked of him.

“Hey, Y/N, isn’t that your boyfriend?” One of the guys says and makes kissy noises. “Go say hi, give him a big wet one for us. Show him some appreciation for giving the union so much work.”

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’ve been out two times.”

“That guy’s dated models, what’s so great about you?”

“Bob.” Frank says, warningly. “Don’t be a prick.”

Harry watches as the group laughs, and Frank puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Everything alright over there?” He asks the foreman.

“Yeah, they’re just giving her a tough time. They seem to think you’re her boyfriend.”

“And what if I was? Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No, sir, of course not…it’s just…up until a couple weeks ago everyone thought she was gay, or at least, just not into dudes.”

“Why? Because she didn’t try to fuck one of the other guys? She’s a beautiful woman, and-“ Harry stops himself. He can feel his blood boiling. He wasn’t your boyfriend, and he knew that, but he still wanted to defend you.

“What’s it like fucking a dude with so much money? Surprised you haven’t quit yet to become his live in lady.”

“Bob, I’m about two seconds away from ripping your balls off.”

“Not a very nice thing to say.”

“You’re being a dick, Bob.” Frank says. “Why do you wanna know what it’s like to fuck Mr. Styles for? You like him too?” He smirks.

“Frank.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What’s happening here, you’re going to turn this around to make some gay joke to defend me? Not cool. You all need to grow the fuck up.” You finish your coffee, put your hardhat back on and storm off.

Harry watches the scene and goes over to the group of men since you now left.

“Everything alright over here?” He asks them. The foreman was shaking behind him.

“Just fine, sir.” Bob says.

“Are we sure? Because that worker seemed a bit upset. I hope you’re all working as a team, I hate to see people not being team players. It makes getting a job done well very difficult.”

“The guys have been ragging on her because of you.” Frank says. “Apparently they think it’s funny that you’ve been out a couple of times.” He turns to all of them. “I think you all forget that she works with us and has fun just like the rest of us, but she’s still a woman. She’s allowed to go out on dates with people not like us. Just because she doesn’t want any of you doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve to find someone.”

Frank huffs and storms off himself. Harry was impressed by him.

“I don’t have much to add to that other than that her personal life is just that, personal. Please remember that, and keep things professional. Then, none of his will have a problem.” He says sternly and walks away. The foremen glares at all of them and follows Harry.

He just wanted to make sure you were okay. He saw you inside, back to work, as if nothing had happened. Frank was holding the latter you were on. He still wanted to respect what you had asked, so he turns and walks back out of the building.

Stacey had her phone out when Harry got back to the office. She was texting furiously with someone. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had a frown on her face.

“Everything alright, love?” Harry asks, concerned.

“With me, yeah.” She looks up at him and smiles. “I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“For not stepping in to defend her. She’s good at taking care of herself.”

“So that’s who you’re texting?”

“Mhm. I’m gonna meet her after work for some drinks. When do you see her next?”

“Friday.”

“Good, that’ll be nice.”

“So I shouldn’t show up while you’re having drinks?”

“No! She needs girl time. You mean well, but keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t suffocate her.”

“It was so hard to not run over to her earlier. We chatted a bit over the phone while I was gone. It was so nice.” He sighs and leans against her desk.

“You’re a romantic, Harry, and I love that about you. But…Y/N…well, she prefers to save that for the movies.”

Harry’s eyes widen and he gasps.

“I just figured out what I’m gonna take her to do Friday!” He hugs Stacey quick. “Thanks, Stace!” He rushes into his office and closes the door.

By the time Friday rolled around, you were exhausted. You really didn’t want to do anything crazy, and Harry assured you that you’d just be hanging out at his place which put you at ease. His car comes for you around seven. You come out in a pair of jeans, a nice shirt, and your hair down. He gets out and practically runs over to you. He takes you in his arms and kisses you.

“Missed you.” He says against your lips before kissing you again.

“I guess I missed you too.” You smile. “Thanks for being so cool at the site the other day.”

“No worries, I just hope those guys have cooled it.”

“They have.”

“Good.” He smiles and leads you into the car.

“One of these days I’m going to see what you look like behind the wheel.”

“That just means you’ll have to come out to my beach house.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible. It’s getting warmer out by the day.”

“I hope you’re hungry, I’ve got something good prepared.”

“Did you cook?”

“God, no. I’d burn the house down if I made something other than a frozen pizza.” He chuckles. “No, I had someone come and make everything I wanted.” You make a face at him. “Oh, stop it. You’ll be thankful once you see it, trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Once you’re at Harry’s place, he leads you inside. You take note on how he always says hi to all of the workers. You liked that he was so kind to them. When he gets you inside your jaw drops. There was a popcorn machine full of popcorn, hot dogs on a rotisserie, and all of the fixings on a table next to it, a nacho station, and homemade candies and chocolates.

“So, this is, like, the concessions area, and then down the hall is my home theater. Thought I’d bring the movies to us. Do you like it?”

“This is so…extravagant.” You walk up to where all of the sweets are.

“I had my chef make up those chocolate covered cookie dough bites, I thought you might like them.”

“I love those…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He kisses you cheek. “Well, let’s make up what we want and then we can go find our seats.” He chuckles at his own joke and it makes you giggle.

You each make up a tray of snacks, and head down the hall. You gasp when you see a movie poster on the wall outside of the door.

“Pretty Woman?”

“I remember you mentioning it on our first date. Would you like to watch it?”

“Sure!”

You walk inside the room. He wasn’t kidding, it really was a home theater. Three rows of luxurious recliner seats, a large screen and a projector in the back.

“Where would you like to sit?”

“Middle row?”

“Works for me.” He smiles and follows you up. He sets his food down on the chair next to him and takes his phone out. “There’s an app linked to the projector so I can just it play from here and even dim the lights.”

“Pretty cool.”

“Very cool. Makes things so much easier.”

The lights dim, and previews start playing.

“Previews from when the film first came out, makes it more immersive.”

“Nice touch.” You saw, biting into your hot dog. “Oh, wow. This is delicious.”

“All freshly made with a natural casing. Still not the best for you, but at least it’s made with good ingredients.”

You sip on your soda and toss some popcorn into your mouth as well. Once you both finish up some of the cookie dough bites, you set your trays aside, recline the chairs, and get comfortable. Harry lifts the armrest between you and puts his arm around you.

“This alright?”

“Mhm.” You cozy up to him and sigh as you watch the film.

Even though you thought he was flashing his cash again, you knew he wasn’t doing it for bad reasons. He wanted to give you a nice evening, and this was how he knew to do it. You appreciated him putting all this effort in just for you. It made you rethink your first date completely. He was just trying to show you a good time, and you felt bad for being sort of rude. You’re happy you gave him another chance.

You sling your arm over his lower stomach, and put one of your ankles over his. His cologne smelled so good, you just wanted to have him closer to you. Harry was swooning. He hadn’t felt this happy in so long. His hand strokes your arm and shoulder mindlessly as the movie goes on. You both laugh and giggle at the funnier parts. When it gets to the part of the film where Vivian goes down to where Edward is playing the piano, and she sits on top of it and they start having sex.

You bite your bottom lip and look up at Harry whose eyes are glues to the screen, but you could feel his heart beating rapidly. He notices you looking up at him and he looks down at you with a slight smile. You reach one of your hands up to the back of his neck to pull him down to you. His lips brush over yours, and then you both sink into it. You tug him by the collar of his shirt so he’s hovering over you on the large seats. You wrap your legs around his waist to have him as close as possible. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip and he opens up for you. You both groan into the open mouthed kiss, happy to feel the other’s tongue.

He kisses down your jaw and makes his way to your neck. Your hips buck up towards his when he starts to suck on your skin. You crane your neck to give him more access, and you practically push his head further into you. You whimper and bite your bottom lip as your hips move up towards his again. He sits up and pulls you on top of him so you can straddle him. Your lips find his again as you roll your hips down on his growing bulge. You tug at his hair as you suck on his bottom lip. His hands were press on your back to keep you close.

“Y/N?” He breathes.

“Mm?” You mumble as you kiss on his neck.

“Do you wanna take a break so we can finish the movie?”

“What, why?” You pout with your now swollen lips.

“Well, it’s just, that scene where Jason Alexander tries to…um…you know, is coming up and I’d feel weird making out while that happens.”

“Oh.” You chuckle and move off of him. “Makes sense.” He puts his arm back around you as you both catch your breaths.

Eventually the movie ends and the lights come back on. You have to blink a few times to get used to it. You and Harry grab your trays and go out the kitchen to clean everything up.

“Did you enjoy that?” He asks as he loads up the dishwasher.

“Yeah! I mean, I love that movie, and it was cool to watch it privately like that.”

“That room used to be another bedroom, I had it renovated shortly after I moved in. I’m glad I did. It got difficult to go out once the paparazzi started following my every move. Plus, it’s fun for parties. My family loves it when they come to visit.” He dries his hands on a towel and tosses it on a counter.

“Do they still follow you around?”

“Not as much anymore, thank god. At least, not to see who I’m dating. Sometimes after I do an interview for a magazine they follow me to see if I’m going out to get drunk or something.” He scoffs and shakes his head.

“You end up on a lot of thirty under thirty type magazines.”

“Yeah…I’ve done those, made it onto Forbes too, that was pretty cool. Then in a couple of years when I do turn thirty, it’ll be forty under forty. It never ends.” He shakes his head.

“How’d you end up dating some Italian model?”

He steps closer to you and tucks some hair behind your ear.

“Is that something you really wanna talk about?” He asks, just above a whisper as he starts to kiss on your neck again.

“No.” You gasp as his hands squeeze your hips. “Can we go to your bedroom?” You hear him sigh against you and he leans back against the counter.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Not ready for that yet?”

“You make zero sense!”

It’s true. Harry wasn’t making much sense. He was used to moving too fast with women, and it always went wrong. He really liked you, and he didn’t want it blowing up in his face.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” He squeezes your hand. “I just think we should go out on a few more dates before we get to know each other like that…don’t you?”

“No, I’d like you to take me to your room and fuck me.” You cross your arms.

“Y/N.” He chuckles. “I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

You knew he was right. You felt his fully erect dick when you were grinding on him earlier.

“I just want us on the same page, make sure we both want the same things before diving into all that.”

“God, of course you’re, like, a good person.” You roll your eyes. “Fine, let’s go out a few more times.”

“Great.” He smiles. “I want you to know, too, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

“Neither am I.”

“And you won’t start, right?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs.

“Harry, I barely have the time to juggle one guy, I don’t think I’d have the energy to entertain more than one.” You laugh.

“Alright.” He blushes slightly. You step closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m surprised there isn’t a line of women knocking at your door.”

“Oh, there is, I just ignore it.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Kidding.”

“Mhm.”

You both smile and stand there kissing for a little while. Harry makes sure you get home, giving you a ride in his car. Just like last time, you spent most of the ride making out in the back seat. You really didn’t want to leave, but it was late and you needed to sleep. You say goodnight to each other, and he makes sure you’re inside before letting Charlie drive away.

“Mr. Styles, don’t forget you’ve got that gala this weekend.” Stacey says to him Monday morning.

“Shit, I’ve completely forgot about that.” He sighs. “Do I have to go?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I saw the guest list and…Carina’s going to be there.”

“Of course she is!” He groans and slumps into his chair. “Fuck, and I don’t have a date.”

“You could ask Y/N.”

“Do you think that’s something she’d wanna go to? She’d need a ball gown and-“

“She’s an electrician, but she’s still a woman. She has a lot of pretty clothes. I actually borrow a lot from her when I have events to go to.”

“She’s having me over for dinner tonight…I suppose I could ask her then.”

“Wait, she’s having you over?!”

“Yeah…” He raises an eyebrow of confusion at her.

“Wow.” She smirks. “She must really like you. She never invites guys over.” She winks at him and leaves his office.

After work, Harry has Charlie drive him over to your place. He rings your buzzer and you let him up. Your door was open a crack for him already, so he goes tight in, loosening his tie.

“Hi, Harry!” You smile.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you still had all your work clothes on, but your flannel was unbuttoned, revealing your white tank top and plenty of cleavage. You go over to him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Not as big as your place, but it has what I need.”

“It’s lovely. One bedroom?”

“Mhm, and two bathrooms.” You say proudly. “I hope you like food from the crockpot. I set up some chili this morning before I left.”

“Chili sounds amazing, I love spicy food.” He takes his suit jacket off and throws on your couch.

“Great.” You smile and grab some sour cream and cheese from your fridge. You grab a couple of bowls and some spoons and you both serve yourselves. You both sit down at the small table you have in your kitchen.

“This is delicious, thank you.” He smiles.

“Oh, I’m so glad you like it.”

“I’m happy we could get together tonight.”

“Me too.” You smile.

You had fully warmed up to Harry at this point. You’d been seeing each other for a few weeks, and you had let many walls down. You liked him, you really liked him. You two also hadn’t done more than make out, and it was absolutely killing you.

“Do you have plans Saturday evening?”

“I don’t believe so, why? Another movie night?” You ask sort of excitedly and he chuckles.

“No, I wish. I have this charity gala to go to that I actually forgot all about until Stacey reminded me this morning. I’d love for you to join me.”

“Oh…a little fancier than I thought, but, sure.” You shrug. “I could do that. I’ll have to call my hairdresser to see if she can squeeze me in, I’m assuming I’ll probably want my hair done?”

“Only if you feel comfortable…”

“Will I need a gown?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I have a couple to choose from in my closet. Do you know what suit you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” He takes his phone out to show you. It was pink with a design on the front. It was beautiful.

“Hm, I think I have a green dress that would look good with this. Pink and green look so nice together.” You use your napkin to wipe your mouth and stand up. “Come on.” You nod towards the hallway.

“Come on what?”

“I wanna show you the gown I have.”

“Oh, alright.”

He follows you into your room, but he stands in the doorway as you go into your closet. It was much smaller than his, but he liked the way you decorated. You utilized a lot of space. You can always tell when a tradesperson lives somewhere because everything always looked really nice. Here were built in shelves and storage units.

“You make those?”

“Mhm, and I made this closet twice as big.” You find the gown you’re thinking of and hold it up in front of your body to show him. “What do you think? Will it do the trick?”

“It’s beautiful, Y/N. Why do you have it?”

“When I was younger I used to participate in pageants. The scholarships were super helpful for college. Anyways, past winners get invited back pretty often and you’re supposed to dress really nice when you go, so I have a couple of formal gowns for when I get those calls.”

“I never would have taken you for a pageant girl.”

“I’m not really…but I needed the money, and I figured out how to play the game. I came in first twice in two different competitions. However, the girls I participated with weren’t very nice, so I wasn’t exactly sad when I got too old for it.” You hang the dress back up. “Don’t worry, I’ll be able to look the part with all your fancy friends.” You smirk and walk out of your room. You sit on your couch and he sits next to you.

“A lot of them aren’t really friends. Acquaintances really. Um, Stacey showed me the guest list today and my ex is apparently going to be there.”

“The model?”

“Yeah.”

“Wonderful.” You scoff. “So are we finally going to have the conversation?”

“What do you mean?”

“She was your last relationship right? Tell me what happened.”

“Not much to tell. We met at a dinner party for a mutual friend. We met in London, actually, but we both had places here in the city, so we kept seeing each other. I didn’t realize how well known she was, so that’s when the paparazzi started. We were together almost a year before it just got to be too much. She wanted me to basically give it all up for her so I could travel with her, but I thought it was selfish of her to ask me to do that, so we broke up.”

“Did you love her?”

“I did.” He says bluntly. “But it wasn’t the type of love I wanted. I don’t have any feelings for her whatsoever, I want you to know that.” He places his hand on your knee. “I just know she’s going to come over to me and look you up and down, and she’s going to be really snotty. She’s…well, she’s a bitch, to put it simply.”

“And you dated her for a year because?”

“Vanity. On paper, we were the perfect match, but I realized it felt like I wasn’t living my own life anymore. I’m much happier now.” He gives your knee a squeeze.

“Alright, well, I’m sure we’ll have a good time. Is it a sit down dinner?”

“It is.”

“Open bar?”

“Yup.”

“Dancing?”

“A little.”

“Sounds like a good time to me.” You smile.

“You’re amazing, thank you.” He leans to kiss you and that was that.

The day of the gala, your hairdresser was able to squeeze you in for an updo. You showed her the dress you’d be wearing, so she gave you an elegant bun. You had your nails done as well. You were glad you did because you had a nasty bruise on your thumb. That’ll be the last time you use a regular hammer and not just a nail gun.

When you get home you take out an old pearl necklace that was your great-grandmother’s that would go perfectly with the green dress. It was strapless and fit to your form, with a nice slit starting at one of your thighs. You found a pair of heels that went perfectly with it, and a white shall. You apply your makeup, and take a step back to take yourself in. You looked perfect. You take a selfie to send to Stacey.

Stacey: omfg!!! You’re gonna give Carina a run for her money, have fun!

You smile at the text and find your clutch that goes with the dress. Harry picks you up around seven. You gasp when you see a limo, and not just the regular car he usually picks you up in.

“All this for the two of us?” You ask as he gets out of the car. His suit looked so good. His jaw drops when he sees you.

“You look stunning, Y/N.” He gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, and help you into the limo. “The limo’s just to keep up appearances. We’re essentially walking down a red carpet into the building. Know how to pose?”

“Oh, I can give face when I need to.” You smirk. “It was fun getting all dressed up since I don’t get to often.”

“I like your flannels too, I hope you know how sexy you look in your work clothes.”

Your cheeks heat up. Harry didn’t really talk like that to you often.

“I’ll have to wear my tool belt for you sometime…just my tool belt.” You whisper in his ear and then face forward. You send a shiver up his spine. He couldn’t wait for that.

When you pull up to the event, Harry gets out first. Cameras start flashing, and he extends his hand out to you. You stand up and nearly feel blinded, but you get through it. You walk with him, his hand on the small of your back. You’d stop occasionally to be photographed. There were reports asking Harry what your name was and other questions, but he didn’t answer a single one. Once you were inside you took a deep breath.

“You did amazing, thank you.”

“No problem. How come they wanted to know who I was?”

“So they can print some story about us. I don’t wanna give up your privacy, so my lips are staying sealed for now.”

You’re brought into a large ball room. There were silent auction items all around the perimeter that Harry would need to put some money down for.

“I hate these things. I’d be happy to just donate without having to get anything in return, you know?”

You walk around with him to look at the items.

“How come you’re not writing anything down?”

“I’m waiting for other people so I can put a larger amount down. They deduct the value of the item from the actual donation, so I wanna make sure enough money gets put down.”

“That’s…really philanthropic of you, Harry.”

“All the proceeds tonight go to inner city schools to get them new computers and other technology they’re in desperate need of.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever meet Harry’s mother, but you hoped you would just so you could thank her for raising such a kind man. You both mingle with a few people, and eventually Harry puts his bids down for a few different items.

“If I win I’ll just donate this shit. I don’t need anything else.” He shrugs.

Waiters come around with h'orderves and drinks. You snatch a flute of champagne and a shrimp puff.

“Good, babe?” He smiles at you as you lick your lips.

“Very.” You giggle.

His smile fades when he sees Carina from across the room. She had a lovely blue gown on, and some man’s arm was snaked around her waist. She sees Harry and she sends him a small wave. He clutches your hip a little tighter. You look up at him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, uh, wanna find our table?”

“Sure.”

You find your table and you both take your seat. You chat with the woman sitting next to you, and other people begin finding their seats. As the event gets started, waiters come around with food. Someone on a stage comes out and announces who has won what items. People clap. Harry won a couple of the items he bid on. He stands as people clap, and you clap as well. You kiss him on the cheek as he sits back down. Once dinner is through, some people start going out to the dance floor, and others stand around to mingle.

“Well if it isn’t the CEO himself.” Harry turns around the second he hears the accent. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hi, Carina.”

She takes him in for a gentle hug, and kisses him on both cheeks. You want to gag, but you know it’s just a cultural thing.

“And who might this be?” She looks you up and down.

“I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand and she shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you.” She smiles and looks at Harry. “I’m surprised to see you here with someone.”

“Could say the same to you.” He nods over to the man she came with. He was over talking with some other people.

“Oh, that’s Richard. He’s lovely. We met a few months back. He works remotely so he’s able to travel with me. It’s perfect.”

“Good for you.”

“What do you do?” She asks you.

“I’m a union electrician.” You say with a bright smile. “I got a degree in Mathematics and then I joined the trades world.”

“Oh my…I never would have guessed.” She smiles nervously. “Harry, may I borrow you for just a moment? Andrew is here too, and he misses you so much.”

“Um…sure.” He looks at you.

“Go ahead, I need to use the ladies room as it is.”

He watches you walk away and turns back to Carina.

“Andrew’s not here.” Harry says to her.

“I know, I just said that so we could chat. She’s not for you, and you know it.”

“What makes you think you have the right to say that to me?”

“Harry, you can’t be with some blue collar worker.”

“And why not?” He scoffs. “I’ll have you know she’s lovely and elegant, but she’s also not afraid to go to McDonald’s and stuff her face. In fact, she’s not afraid of food at all.”

“I’m on a very strict diet and you know it.” She huffs.

“Why don’t you worry about yourself and Richard?”

Harry turns on his heel and walks towards the restrooms. You were just coming out when you see him waiting.

“Are you alright?” You ask him.

“Yeah, feel like having a dance?”

“Definitely.”

You take his hand as he leads you back into the ballroom and onto the dance floor. The band was only playing slower songs, but that was just fine. Harry was really light on his feet. It made you smile as he led you around.

“You about ready to get out of here?” He whispers in your ear.

“Mhm.”

He smiles at you and leads you out. He says goodbye to a few people, and gets you outside. There were still reporters, but he gets you into the limo quickly.

“So…your ex…was she civil with you?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about.” He throws his arm around you and kisses your hairline. “Okay to come back to mine?”

“Definitely.”

He gets you up into his place and gets you a glass of water.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You tell him.

“Me too, you definitely made it more fun. Those things can be so dreadful.”

“I just look at it as a free dinner.” You laugh.

“Oh, is that all it takes with you?” He smirks.

“Pretty much. I’ll go to a party like that with you anytime.”

“Good to know.” He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him. Yours go around his neck and you start kissing. You giggle when you let go of him and see your red lipstick all over his mouth.

“Sorry.” You try to rub it off with your thumb.

“No worries.” He chuckles. “Would you like to come upstairs?”

“I would.” You take your heels off, and follow him up.

He leads you into his large bedroom. You gaze at the beautiful furniture.

“I’ve got a walk in closet too.” He says. “You’d probably appreciate the craftsmanship.”

He opens the door for you and you step inside.

“It’s beautiful. I love built ins. Whoever did this did a great job.”

“I only hire the best, but you knew that.” You grip at his suit jacket and push him up against the doorframe of the closet. You slot your lips over his and he welcomes it.

“I want you, Harry.” You say against his lips.

“I want you too.” He kisses on your neck and bites down on your shoulder.

He walks you over to his bed until your legs his the frame. He keeps you steads as his hands find the zipper on the back of dress. You push his suit jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. He unzips your dress, but holds it up.

“Are you okay with all this?” He asks.

“God, yes.”

Your dress falls to the ground and pools at your feet. Your fingers work to unbutton his shirt. His eyes widen as he looks at the underwear set you’re wearing. You were wearing a strapless black bra with a black lace thong to match. Of course you still needed to wear a bra, your breasts were too large to without. You get his shirt off and you take a step back to admire his tattoos.

“I didn’t know you had so many.” Your hands trace off the ones on his collar bones, his torso, and his hips. “Even your arms.”

‘Got a few on my legs too.” He loves the way your hands felt on his body.

“I thought you just had the cross and the anchor. These are so cool.”

“Thanks.”

Your hands move to his belt buckle and get it undone, his pants drop to the floor moments later. You lick your lips when you see his tight boxers.

“Fuck, Harry, I want you so badly.”

You push him down on the bed and straddle him. His hands go to your hips, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He reaches up to unhook your bra, and tosses it to the floor. You switch positions so you’re lying on your back. He caresses your breasts and kisses on each of them. He puts his face between them and just enjoys the way your skin feels on him. You start giggling and he looks up at you.

“Breast man, huh?”

“Sorry, was that weird? You just have such a beautiful body.”

“Not weird at all, they’re yours to play with.” You grin.

“Oh, I like the sound of that a lot.”

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks harshly. You gasp as your hips buck up towards him. He does the same thing to the other before kissing down your body. His hands tug your thong below your hips.

“Can I take this off?”

“Please.”

You lift your hips to help him. He looks down at you and then up to your eyes.

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Make you feel good.”

“Sure, but I wanna hear you say what exactly is going to make me feel good.”

His eyes darken as he looks at you.

“Y/N, I’m going to lick into your cunt until you’re screaming that you can’t take it anymore.”

Your mouth falls open as he parts your legs. He kisses from your knee to your inner thigh. Sucking on where he pleases. He uses his forearm to hold your hips down when he finally gets his tongue on you. He licks a flat stripe from your center up to your clit. You clutch at the soft blankets on his bed as you watch him. He makes eye contact with you when he starts to suck on your clit.

“Oh my god.” You moan as your head falls back. You feel him smirk against you. You start to tug at his curls when he swirls his tongue around you and then flicks it quickly on the nub. “Christ.” You say through gritted teeth.

His tongue moves back to your center where he licks into you. He groans at the taste of you. His middle and index finger move to rub your clit in circles while he uses his tongue to essentially fuck you. Your body was starting to feel hot all over, and you could feel a familiar knot tightening in your lower stomach. He assumes you’re starting to get close because you were starting to tighten around his tongue. He licks back up to your clit, and plunges his fingers inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out as his fingers work your insides. Your eyes roll into the back of your head when you feel him knuckle deep. “Harry, it’s so good, don’t stop!”

He groans his response as he sucks on your clit again. He curls his fingers up against your front wall where he knew you needed it. He feels you pulsating around him. He could hear you panting and it was music to his ears.

“Shit, oh, fuck, oh my god!” You scream as your orgasm washes over you. He continues to pump his fingers slowly to help you ride it out.

He sits up on his knees and wipes the slick away from his chin with the back of his hand. He licks his lips and smirks at you. You catch your breath and look up at him. You sit up slightly and grab at the band of his boxers.

“Do you want me to-“

“Next time, I really just want to fuck you.”

You bite your lip and nod at him. He takes his boxers off and your eyes grow wide when you see his full length. You spread your legs back apart for him, and he lines himself up.

“Shit, uh…condom.” He backs away from you and rummages through his night table for one.

“I’m on the pill…”

“Found one!” He looks at you. “What did you say?”

“I’m on the pill…if you didn’t feel like using one.” Your cheeks were starting to grow red. “I’m clean. Wouldn’t have let you go down on me if I wasn’t.”

“I’m clean too. So…you don’t want me to use one?”

“Nah, I kind of want you to come inside me if I’m being honest.”

“Jesus.” He grunts and tosses the condom aside. He gets back between your legs and rubs his tip along your slick folds and clit. “You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

He leans down to kiss you as he slowly pushes inside. He swallows you gasp and moan once he bottoms out. You tighten around him involuntarily. He gives you a moment to relax and adjust to him. You hadn’t been stretched out like this since god knows when.

“Go on.” You whisper.

He smiles into your neck as he starts to rock in and out of you. Your arch up into him. Your hands search for a nearby pillow.

“Hold on.” You tell him and lift your hips up, sliding a pillow under you. “Okay.”

“You’re killing me.” He breathes.

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth as his thrusts pick up the pace. You wrap your legs around him and move along with him. Your hands slide down to his ass so your nails can sink into the fleshy area. He bites down on your collar bone as you keep moving along with him. He was used to women just starfishing under him, this was so nice. He felt really connected to you.

“Oh, shit.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Harry.” You moan.

“Gonna come again?”

“Mhm.”

He snakes a hand between the two of you so he can rub your clit, and that pushes you over the edge. Your nails rake up from his ass to his back as you come, making him moan out at the overwhelming feeling of being marked up by you.

“Can I bend you over the bed?”

You moan out your response. He pulls out of you and gets you on your feet, bending you over. He grips your hips and slips back inside you. All you can hear is his skin slapping against yours. You prop yourself up on your elbows and arch your back. He was hitting so fucking deep, and his tip was brushing against your g-spot. One of his hands goes back to your clit while the other grips the back of your neck while he pounds into you.

“Taking it so well, Y/N.” He grunts.

“Feels so good, fuck!”

He watches as your back arches more and sweat slides down your spine.

“I’m, I’m close.” He says.

“Yeah? You wanna come?”

“Yes, fuck.” He moans out and fills you up while you come again with him.

He had you screaming just like he said he would. He hold you close to him for a moment, his chest flush with your back. He kisses your back before pulling out. You clamp your legs together before anything has a chance to make a mess.

“Let me get you a rag.”

“S’okay, I’ll just use the bathroom.” He helps you stand up and you turn to face him. You grab him by the back of his neck to kiss him. “That was really nice.” You giggle.

You waddle to his bathroom while he grabs a fresh pair of boxers. You clean yourself up and come back out.

“Can I give you something to wear?”

“Please.” You smile. You couldn’t stop smiling, really.

He hands you one of his bed shirts. It had his initials embroidered on the chest pocket. He watches as you button it up.

“Comfortable?”

“Very.” You crawl onto the bed with him. You throw a leg over his and rest your head on his chest. He looks down at you and cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss.

“You make me really happy, Y/N.”

“You make me happy too, Harry. I may even let you stay over at my place sometime.” You chuckle.

“I’d like that.” He kisses your forehead. “But only if I’m staying over there as your boyfriend.” He grins.

“I think I’d feel comfortable with that.” You kiss his soft, swollen lips.

“Really? You’re into all this, you’re not just saying that because we had some hot sex?”

“Harry.” You giggle. “The sex was really hot, and I may have had my reservations about you, but we’ve gotten to know each other well, I’d like to be your girlfriend. Let’s make it official.”

“I have to warn you, I’m gonna want to spoil you rotten. You may get annoyed with me.”

“You can’t buy my affection, just remember that.”

“I know, I just can’t help wanting to just give you everything you want.”

“You’re what I want. I don’t care about all this.” You gesture to his extravagant bedroom.

“I know you don’t, I think that’s why I like you so much. You could care less!” He laughs. “It’s amazing. You’re totally not shallow. It’s refreshing.” He settles down further into the bed and you kiss him a few times on the cheek.

“I get busy a lot. When there’s over time I take it. I may have to break dates once in a while.”

“Same here.”

“If you’re traveling, I won’t be able to just drop everything to go with you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. I like that you work hard and that you actually want to work. You have an honest job, and I really admire that.”

“Thanks.” You kiss on his chest. He liked that you were a kisser. Harry loved being loved on. “However, if you want to plan a trip to that beach house of yours…I certainly could put in for some vacation time.”

“You’d love it out there. It’s nice and private, we’d have our own beach. I have a boat too with a kitchen and bedroom below deck. It’s great.”

“This will definitely take some getting used to.” You laugh. “I’ll have to keep bringing you to dive bars so to knock you down a peg.” You joke.

“Whatever you need to do.” He smirks.

“I’m also going to teach you how to cook. We don’t need to have a catered meal every time we hang out here.”

“That seems fair. Could we start with that chili you made? It was so fucking good.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

You sigh happily and snuggle into his chest as he holds you. You both slept really well that night. You weren’t sure what exactly being a girlfriend to a CEO would entail, but as long as the both of you stayed on the same page about your values, you saw this relationship lasting for a very long time.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles slow burn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #ceo!Harry #harry styles au #pls tag if you reblog #feedback is always appreciated!!

2K notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 3 years

Note

Pre-Fall fic idea for a slow day: Echo asks McCree to go on a date. Liao thinks it'll be a good learning experience for her.

“...I dunno about this...” McCree straightened the collar on his shirt. Why did he dress up for this? Why did Liao feverishly take notes on her tablet when she saw he dressed up for this?

“I think it’s a great opportunity,” said Liao, poking at her tablet.

“See the way you’re gettin’ all excited about it makes me feel like a guinea pig.”

“Echo likes you. She trusts you. This is a chance for her to rapidly expand her social interaction repertoire.”

“It’s still weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Well... how does it work with the age thing?”

Liao snorted. “What?”

“I mean she just got the body! Don't that make it... y'know...”

“The frame is new, yes, but the bare bones of her coding are only a couple years younger than you,” Liao said breezily, “Her processing levels were miles beyond yours well before she even had a body.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s computer science, Jesse, it’s nothing personal.”

“Why’d you give her hips?”

“Well, controlling said body actually has massive processing demands on its own, so you could say what could be recognized as her pelvic region hosts an 'auxiliary AI core'--"

"There's a brain in her ass?"

"Arguably, humans have a secondary brain in their colonic region--"

"There's a brain in my ass?!"

"We're getting off topic. There's a secondary AI core focused on mechanical coordination that is housed in her pelvic region, it was large enough to warrant certain design shifts to suit her center of gravity, and I wanted a friendly and appealing silhouette so --” Liao perked up, “So you noticed the hips?”

McCree’s face burned and he glanced off.

Liao rolled her eyes and smiled. “Jesse... if this goes really badly, I can just erase it from her memory.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m only saying, the stakes aren’t that high,” said Liao, "I think it's cute that you're getting nervous."

"Nervous, hell! I just don't know what to make of it!"

"You've had plenty of perfectly pleasant conversations with her--"

"They weren't dates!"

"Did you just say yes because you didn't want to hurt her feelings?" the brightness and absolute lack of accusation in Liao's voice only unsettled McCree further.

"N-no..." McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I--I wasn't really thinking. I guess... I assumed you'd think I'd wreck it or... or wreck her and you'd... write it out of her code..."

"Interesting..." Liao tapped her tablet stylus on her chin.

"I ain't that good with sciencey shit! Reyes brought me on to shoot things!" McCree shrugged a little helplessly, "And the way you talk about her, I don't know if she's a--a work in progress, or-or your kid so..."

"A little bit of both. This is where AI gets messy," said Liao with a smile, "You don't know if you're making something human... but you get to make something new."

McCree just stared at Liao for a few seconds, opened his mouth to say something, realized he had no idea what to say to that, and then closed his mouth.

"It's going to be wonderful," said Liao, gently putting a hand on the back of McCree's shoulder.

"Wait--Is there anything I should---?" McCree started but the door slid open and Liao more or less shoved him out into Zurich Headquarters' courtyard gardens. It was twilight, Friday night, and strings of fairy lights had been strung around the sycamores, magnolias, and plum trees that decorated the garden. A couple of brightly colored paper lanterns were strung along the lines of electric lights, giving the usual contemplative and monumental air of the garden a more warm and festive feeling. McCree scanned the garden, seeing a table set with candles and a small basket of bread about 15 feet ahead of him.

"Jesse?" McCree heard a familiar voice and swiveled on his heel to see... a glowing blue-white Dolly Parton circa 1974 in a daisy-patterned peach sundress.

"Whuh..." McCree's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Is this okay?" Dolly Parton spoke with Echo's voice and McCree visibly flinched again. "Oh you don't like it--" The glowing Dolly Parton pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Give me a moment! I can fix it!"

"Echo--?" McCree started, but holographic pixels spiraled around the not-Dolly Parton and reshaped her into.... Olivia Rai, her usual afro styled into the more-textured Gibson Girl hairstyle she sported in Six Gun Killer.

"What about this?" said Echo, "Is this all right?"

"I mean I like the movie but--" McCree started but the pixels whirled around Echo.

"Lee Byung-Hun, 2016, Magnificent Seven," said Echo. “My scans of your hormone levels showed an overwhelming positive reaction to him.” Again, this hologram form was still in the sundress.

Okay we really need to talk about the scanning thing, thought McCree, but he just stammered out, "They're all really nice, Echo, but you don't have to--" McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, I think we'll both be more comfortable if you're... you, y'know?"

"Me? But it's so..." 2016 Lee Byung-hun Echo twiddled her fingers nervously, "It's so..."

"It's the you I know," said McCree, shrugging, "I like it, Echo, really."

The hologram fell away from Echo in a shower of cubic pixels, revealing a partially holographic head on a heavily modified omnic frame. She was a patchwork between a handful of standard omnic parts and sleek parts whipped up on-site at this point. No wings. The sundress sagged a little off her metal frame.

"There you are," said McCree.

Echo smiled a little. "Sorry... the hologram capabilities were for optimal interfacing... so I thought..."

"I get it," said McCree with a smile, "I was a little nervous too."

"You were?!" said Echo, "But you're so... charming! And my scans of your antibodies revealed that it was very statistically likely you have had higher than average amounts of--"

"Hoookay! Moving on!" McCree said quickly.

"Moving on," said Echo, processing this.

There was the sound of a cybernetic throat being cleared and both McCree and Echo turned their heads to see Genji in a long-sleeved collared shirt, black vest, bow tie, and apron.

"Genji?" said McCree, suppressing a laugh in his voice.

"...not a word," said Genji.

"I know I got stuck as the waiter back in Venice but this is--"

"I said not a word!" said Genji, furiously. He drew in a steadying inhale. "Ma'am and sir. If I may direct you to your table."

"...oh this is rich--" McCree started.

"McCree, I know 37 ways of killing you in under 11 seconds, do not test me," said Genji.

"Uh huh," said McCree, "Show us the way, Garçon."

Genji muttered something under his breath in Japanese as he lead them to the table. McCree hurried over to Echo's side and pulled out her chair for her.

"Oh--Thank you!" said Echo, sitting down.

Genji rolled his eyes as McCree took his own seat. "Liao was able to negotiate with the headquarters chefs,” he said, setting glasses of water on the table, “You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus."

"So there's not a menu--?" McCree started.

"You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus," said Genji, with about as much murder as anyone could inject into the words 'Chicken scallopini and asparagus.'

"Okay," said McCree meekly as Genji walked off briskly.

"Er--don't mind him," said McCree as Genji walked off, "Blackwatch suspended... getting antsy, y'know."

"I don't," said Echo, equally pleasantly and blankly.

McCree cleared his throat and grabbed some bread from the basket between them, buttering it. "Well... You heard about the Venice incident, right?"

"I did not," said Echo, "I'm quarantined from most networked systems."

"Mm," McCree took a bite of his buttered bread, "Well... the long and short of it is, we fucked up."

"Not you!" said Echo on reflex.

"Well, not me, at first--but we had to follow through on the fuck-up if we were going to get out of it alive," said McCree with a shrug.

"I'm sure you did your best," said Echo, picking up a piece of bread. They both knew she couldn't eat, so instead, she seemed to be using it as something to do with her hands, breaking it off into bits.

"Eh, I don't think any of us were at our best," said McCree, "But... you do what you can, right?"

""Mm-hmm," Echo nodded, "Doctor Liao's been able to convince a handful of operatives to bring my AI processor on the orca with certain missions to observe, but my speech is disabled. Apparently it 'freaks people out.'" Echo glanced off resentfully.

"Not you?" said McCree.

Echo nodded. "And I know Morrison doesn't like me learning combat tactics."

"Echo, I can't think of anyone who loves humanity more than you," said McCree.

"Thank you, Jesse," said Echo. She was silent for a few beats. "And.... thank you for doing this. I--I don't know how you see me..."

"I'm still figuring that out too," said McCree, smiling a little, "But... I like to think I'm a good judge of character. And I'm proud to know you. And I'm proud that I mean enough to you to be here."

Echo's hologram face brightened, and she glanced off, a bit bashfully. "I--I can't even eat bread," she said quietly, smiling as she glanced down at the small pile of shredded bread bits on her plate.

"Psh. Bread. You can turn into whoever you want. Why worry about bread?" said McCree.

Echo snickered a little.

"...who's your favorite to turn into?" asked McCree, "I know you were turnin' into all that stuff earlier for me because of all the stuff we talked about and those dumb movies we watched--”

“I don’t think they’re dumb--”

“But... what about you? Is there a person you like turning into?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I would say...Figure skaters," she said thoughtfully.

"Figure skaters?" McCree repeated.

"Not any individual one, but I’ve been putting together a composite hologram of several of them," said Echo, "Skaters, they--they aren't ruled by the same physics as other humans. All that power, all that grace, all on a plane that does not have the same rules of speed or friction."

"Bet you'd be a hell of a dancer," said McCree, smiling.

"I like to think I'm learning," said Echo, with a slightly smug shrug.

"Chicken scallopini," a plate clanked unceremoniously in front of McCree and McCree flinched to attention to see Genji next to him.

"Jesus, man! A little warning next time!" said McCree.

"Ninja," said Genji flatly.

"What about her?" said McCree, pointing at Echo.

Genji looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Jesse, it's fine," said Echo. She waved her hands and a hologram of what appeared to be lobster thermidor glowed into existence in front of her.

"...she can take care of herself," said Genji, walking off, "Let me know if you need a refill on water."

"Don't mind him," McCree said again.

"I don't," said Echo, materializing a holographic fork into existence and taking a holographic bite of her holographic food.

McCree sectioned off bites of his own meal and took tentative bites and chews, but it was good. A faint 'Mm' fell out of him and he opened his eyes to see Echo closely observing him. He took another bite, not taking his eyes off of Echo this time. Echo seemed to do the same, imitating him. But it wasn't quite the same, he observed. There was a lot of Liao in her, the way she'd stuff food off to one cheek and slowly parse it out as long as she needed while she multitasked. He saw it in all the nights Liao had brought takeout to the lab. In this case, Echo perfectly adapted Liao's eating habits to McCree's.

McCree swallowed hard. "Do you ever uh... make food... make you happy?"

"What do you mean?" said Echo.

"Well, if you eat really good food, you go, like, 'mm' and stuff--if all the food is only stuff you come up with... how does that work?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I... never thought of food as stimulating the pleasure response. Mostly it just seemed necessary for interfacing. Does it stimulate a pleasure response?"

McCree tried not to focus too hard on the words 'Pleasure response.' "Well, it depends on the food," said McCree.

"Does your food stimulate a pleasure response?"

"I mean compared to the rest of the shit I've had this month? Definitely," said McCree with a shrug.

"I see," said Echo. She looked at her food for a few seconds. She took a bit of her own holographic meal and a deep, sensual "Mmnh," bloomed out of her, her shoulders bunching up and her head tilting back with the sensation.

McCree sharply inhaled, realized his mouth was full of chicken scallopini, and coughed and choked for nearly a minute.

"Did I do it wrong?!" Echo asked with alarm.

"N--" McCree coughed, "No--" He coughed again, "You're-- You're doin' fine--"

Echo giggled. “I--I’m sorry, I’m still deciphering the appropriate forms of human pleasure.”

McCree found his face burning again and just gulped down some of his water.

“...that was an odd thing to say,” said Echo, glancing off.

“Nah, I’ve been told I’m old-fashioned a lot,” said McCree with a dismissive hand wave.

“Well, that’s why I like you,” said Echo, shyly.

McCree’s chews slowed.

“You... feel solid. I know I can trust you to... to tell me what you think... but.. also to be kind. I don’t know what other people want from me, but I know you just want another person. And... you’re very open in terms of what that person can be.”

“Well I can tell you you don’t need to be Dolly Parton to win me over,” said McCree with a shrug and another bite of his food.

Echo giggled again and McCree swallowed.

“I’m still not sure if I’m doing this right,” said Echo, smiling down at her own hologram food.

“Eh, you don’t really think of it in terms of ‘doing it right’--it’s mostly just about both of you having a good time. And trust me, you’re a better date than a lot that I’ve had,” said McCree with a snicker, “I just hope I’m doing it right too, y’know? It’s a lot of pressure, being anyone’s first date.”

“Oh!” Echo perked up, “I never thought of it that way....”

“Am I doing it right?” said McCree with a slight lopsided smile.

“Hmm...” Echo seemed to genuinely and very seriously ponder this.

“Oh come on, you’re making me nervous!” said McCree.

“Current assessments are... positive,” said Echo, “More data may be necessary to confirm any findings I’ve drawn thus far. We may have to do this again. An experiment is useless unless you can replicate its results”

“So... second date then?” said McCree, “That’s generally considered a good sign.”

“Oh! So I’m good at this!” said Echo.

“Sure are,” said McCree with a snicker.

Echo beamed.

“Think we might have to do something other than dinner next time, though. I think if we try to get Genji in a waiter outfit again, he may actually kill me.”

“I estimate by his hormone levels and body temperature that there is an 89% likelihood of that occurring, yes,” said Echo. They both laughed for a little bit, and as the giggles died down Echo tilted her head. “So... you’ve been on bad dates?”

“Oh, terrible dates--but I don’t want to bore you---”

“It could be very useful data!” said Echo with that same brightness Liao had shown when she saw McCree being nervous.

McCree rubbed his chin. “Well... there’s a couple funny stories....”

-----

McCree was humming when he arrived in the Blackwatch sector later that night, bobbing his head and shoulders a bit with his humming as he loosened his bolo tie and took off his hat.

“Sounds like someone had a good time,” Reyes was seated in front of Blackwatch’s main monitor, mindlessly leafing through some paperwork.

McCree barely interrupted his own humming with an “Mm-hmm” as he kept walking past.

“Reyes, you really must find a way to end Blackwatch’s suspension, or I fear he’ll romance one of the custodian’s vacuuming bots, next,” said Moira, leaning against the desk next to Reyes.

“Eh, if it means getting Genji in a bowtie again...” Reyes shrugged.

“You will never get me in a bowtie again,” Genji seethed from a shadowed corner.

“You asked for a mission--” Reyes started, but cut himself off as the three of them watched McCree continue to walk and hum down to his own quarters.

“...by god, I think he actually had a good time,” Reyes said quietly.

“Madness is setting in,” Moira mused.

“We need to get out in the field again,” Genji said, his voice tense.

“Or maybe you just need a date,” said Reyes shrugging. Reyes heard the audible click of the shuriken plate on Genji’s arm as Genji’s shoulders tensed up. “...or not.”

#overwatch #mcecho #jesse mccree #echo overwatch #mina liao

97 notes · View notes

thetravelerwrites · 3 years

Text

Dr. Mael Halvorg (Part 2)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Male Part Fae/Female Part Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Naga, Reader Insert, Anthropology, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Infertility, Birth, Oviposition, Egg-Laying Words:

Commissioned by @ivymemnoch! The reader and Dr. Halvorg discuss his lingering infertility problem. Amai lays her final clutch of eggs. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

“Good morning, class!” You said on the first day.

“Good morning!” Fourteen bright voices responded.

All of the children except for baby Yenu were sitting on their tails behind desks in a room that had been set up as a classroom by the staff.

“So, every day each week we’re going to work on a different subject,” You began. “Mondays are reading and language comprehension, Tuesdays are maths and sciences, Wednesdays are social studies and economics, Thursdays are geography and history, Fridays are fun days with arts, crafting, music, and educational games. Today is Monday, so we’re going to start with reading. You should each have a workbook appropriate to your developmental level in your desks, so please take out your reading workbooks.”

As the children shuffled and searched for the right book, Dr. Halvorg stepped inside the classroom with a clipboard. You raised an eyebrow.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I’m observing the children in a school setting to see how they adapt,” He replied.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And I’m also assuming how I teach, correct?”

He dipped his head sheepishly. “I was curious. And it’s for my research.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Mm.” You turned back to your students and fell into your teacher’s voice. “Keenai, if you would begin reading the first sentence, please?”

Keenai picked up his workbook and started reading. “The small dog lives in a red house.”

“Can you tell me which of these words are verbs?”

“Um…” He looked at the sentence, frowning.

“To remind you, a verb is an action word, something someone does.”

“Uh… lived?” He replied slowly.

“Very good.” You said, and he smiled in relief. “Tani, you’re next. Read the next sentence in your book.”

“The red house was built on a wed… wedeness…”

“Wednesday,” You said. “That’s a hard word, I know. Can you tell me what the noun is in that sentence?”

“House?”

“Good! A noun is a person, a place, or a thing. I’m a noun, you’re a noun, the room we’re in is a noun.”

“Is Nenish a noun?” Jinsa asked.

“Yes.”

“Ha ha, you’re a noun!” Jinsa said, pointing at Nenish.

“So are you!” Nenish interjected.

“Hey, hey! Settle down, please!” You called over them, sitting on the edge of your desk. “Fuma, you next.”

Fuma read from his book, and then Amaia. Next, you went down the line of the four-year-olds, having them read a sentence and find colors, shapes, numbers, or sounds in the sentences. The three-year-olds were next, and they simply read small sentences. You then had the one-year-olds spell and say three-letter words.

Their quick development was normal for nagas, as they tended to age quickly until they hit puberty, when their aging progress slowed to accommodate for yearly hibernation, but it was also startling in conjunction with the developmental levels of similar creatures. You had never studied the advancements of a species’ young so closely before, and you had to admit, it was fascinating. You could see why Dr. Halvorg found it so interesting.

You set the children writing tasks appropriate to their learning level and took a moment to talk to Dr. Halvorg, who was scribbling quickly in a notebook.

“They have computers now that you can write on, you know,” You told him, amused.

He looked up over his glasses at you and quirked an eyebrow. “I am aware of that, thank you. I’m not quite so old-fashioned as I seem, regardless of what Amai might tell you.” He looked back down and continued scribbling. “I’m a chronic note-taker. A bad habit I can’t seem to break, though with my profession, it’s often a strength rather than a weakness.”

“Hmm,” You hummed. “And what do your notes say about my teaching?”

“Adequate,” He replied, still scribbling. “Don’t misunderstand, that’s not a criticism. I hold everyone to an extremely high standard. If you hadn’t met expectations, I would have dismissed you.”

“So I meet your expectations?” You asked sardonically.

“At the moment,” He said, snapping his book closed and standing up. “I still want to observe your other classes before I’m completely satisfied.”

“Hmm,” You said again.

True to his word, Halvorg attended every class that week, observing you interacting with the children. Other than a question or two about your future curriculum, he stayed quiet. At the end of the week, he asked that you submit a weekly progress report until you either found a replacement or were dismissed.

It seemed excessive to you, and you were beginning to wonder if he still saw the children as an experiment. He seemed to care about them, but how much of that was genuine and how much of it was his own self-interest? You were starting to feel leery of and disconcerted by him.

Perhaps he picked up on this, because he seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. He had you direct all of your questions and reports to his assistant and rarely picked up his phone. Any conversations were brief and succinct. He did send you notes on your curriculum, making suggestions for each child. If you weren’t already suspicious of his motives, you might almost have though it sweet.

“I think Halvorg is avoiding me,” You told Amai when the two of you went to lunch together. Now that the two of you could hang out after all the years, you made it a point to set time aside for each other and had lunch at least once a week.

“What makes you say that?” Amai asked, drizzling dressing over her starter salad.

“Ever since he watched me teach classes, he’s barely spoken to me. He seemed excited to exchange research notes when I first arrived, but now he seems to have no interest in speaking to me since he finished observing class.”

“He could just be busy,” Amai suggested. “The four year old’s birthdays are coming up. He always does something special for the kids on their birthdays.”

“Are you concerned that he only sees your children as test subjects?” You asked her. “He seems obsessed with them.”

Amai laughed. “I thought that way in the early days, but he genuinely loves kids. If anything ever happened to me or Yenuno, I’m confident Halvorg would take care of them.” She took a sip of her mineral water. “Are you coming to the kids party? You’re invited, obviously.”

“Will there be clowns? I hate clowns.”

She snorted. “Nothing so gauche. I think Halvorg set up a treasure hunt. The kids always love whatever he plans. Honestly, I know I complain about him, but he does make it easy for me sometimes. I haven’t had to plan any major events since the kids hatched.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. It’s strange to me how involved he is.”

Amai sat back in her seat and eyed you shrewdly. “Did he ever tell you about his son?”

You looked up in surprise. “Son? I thought you said he had no children.”

“He doesn’t… technically.” Amai set her fork down. “You didn’t hear this from me so don’t repeat it, but he had a wife nearly a hundred years ago who cheated on him. He raised a boy, thinking he was his son, but the child was actually fathered by the other man. His wife left him and took the boy with her and he never saw him again. I don’t think he ever got over that.”

“Oh, god,” You replied, horrified. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“He’s spend the last several decades saving dying races from the brink of extinction. In a way, he thinks of those children he helped bring into the world as his children, too. And every time he has to let them go, it’s like losing his son all over again. I think the fact that he gets to help raise our babies is something of a gift for him. Trust me, it’s not something he takes for granted.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that,” You said in dismay.

“Halvorg is stuffy, strict, and a stickler for protocols, so he can be difficult to read, but I assure you, he loves my children as if they were his own. It may have started as research, but he has a family now and I think that’s what he wanted all along. Try not to judge him to harshly.”

You conceded with a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The following Saturday, you attended the kids birthday party as requested. The kids were excited and zooming around the receiving area, shrieking and laughing, all of them wearing party hats and nothing else. Amaia was piggy-backing on Dr. Halvorg, her tail wrapped around his waist for stability and her arms hugged around his neck. Dr. Halvorg walked around completely normally, as if this was a typical action and he was used to it. He watched the children playing with a wide, fond grin on his face.

You walked over to Amai and Yenuno, who were watching from the refreshments table with Yenu, feeding her crackers.

“Nothing like a little bit of chaos in the morning,” You said.

They laughed.

“You’ve never seen them after a group kill,” Yenuno said. “They’re uncontrollable after they’ve taken down an elk together. It’s pretty incredible to watch for me, personally. Nagas in the wild typically don’t work together and they especially don’t hunt together, not even siblings.”

“They are very close and friendly, for nagas,” You remarked. “Markedly different to most snake-related species I’ve met.”

“It’s Amai’s blood and influence that’s doing it, I’m sure,” Yenuno said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “She’s the most friendly and cheerful person I’ve ever met.”

“To be fair, sweetie, you haven’t met all that many people,” Amai said, laughing.

“That is fair,” Yenuno conceded. “My point stands, though.”

“Alright children, gather ‘round!” Halvorg called, and they flocked to him, swirling around him like a whirlpool. “Now, you guys are going to split up into teams to help Nenish, Tahara, and Sadji find their gifts. Nenish will have Tani, Jinsa, and Keenai on his team. Tahara will have Amaia, Osan, Ishni, and Dashu on his team. And Khuzho, Chidil, Fuma, and Itheti will be on Sadji’s team.” He handed a small leaflet to each team. “Follow the clues to find the treasures! Go!”

The kids scattered, giggling madly.

“Come get something to drink and rest for a minute, Halvorg!” Yenuno called. “I think you’ve earned it.”

Halvorg grinned boyishly, an expression that brightened his face and made him look… well… rather handsome. He jogged over to the table and had a ginger ale. Elves have hypermobile ears, and his ears were high and wiggling slightly, a normal indication in elvish peoples of happiness and excitement.

“I think they’ll really enjoy their gifts this year,” Halvorg said, taking sips of his soda. “And the treasure hunt is half the fun. It’s challenging, but not too difficult. If they work together, it should be no trouble at all.”

“You didn’t get them history books like last year, did you?” Amai asked with her eyes narrowed. “You might as well have burned the money you spent on those for all the use they got out of them.”

“No, I learned my lesson,” He said defensively. “I bought toys.”

“Educational toys?” Amaia asked shrewdly.

He stopped mid-sip and looked at Amaia with an eyebrow raised. “…maybe,” He said into his cup.

Amaia rolled her eyes. “At least Yenuno and I ordered some stuff the kids will like.”

“You don’t know that they won’t like them,” I said. “I loved educational toys.”

“Yeah, but you’re a nerd,” Amaia said, poking you playfully.

“So what? Your kids could be nerds, too. I’m pretty sure Osan is going to be a Star Wars fan. He’s been talking my ear off about the Mandalorian.”

“It’s so strange,” Amaia said, ignoring your response and looking off in the distance. “I thought that because the kids were hatched in clutches, they would be like twins or triples or the like and have similar interests and personalities, but they’re all so different. Different likes, different traits, different styles. It’s amazing.”

“It amazes me, too,” Yenuno said, staring into his drink with a wistful expression. “My siblings and I separated when we were young, so I don’t know what they were like or if we had similar interests. Honestly, until recently, I never gave them a thought. Watching my children work together… it makes me wonder what my own siblings were like, and if they’d still be alive today if we had helped each other.”

There was a contemplative silence for a few minutes, broken by excited voices reentering the receiving area.

“We found it!” Tahara said, holding up a wrapped gift. The other four were carrying smaller treat bags that had their names written on them. “Uncle Maël, look!”

“Excellent! Well done!” Halvorg said, bending to give Tahara a hug. “Now, let’s wait until your brothers return with their gifts before we open them, okay? How about you five play tag until then?”

“Okay!” Tahara said.

“I’ll play with you,” Yenuno said. “I’m starting to get fat, preparing for the incubation period.” He patted Amai’s belly, which carried his three eggs, likely to be the last clutch they’d have together.

“How soon?” You asked Amai as Yenuno took off to chase with his children.

“Any day,” Amai said with a weary sigh. “And I’m ready for it. These little guys are heavy.”

“Boys or girls?”

“We won’t know until they hatch. It’s too hard to get a clear picture with the ultrasound, and besides, even if it could, both the male and female genitalia are internal, so it’s nearly impossible to tell.” She took a sip of ginger ale. “We’re really hoping for at least one girl. Don’t get me wrong, we love the boys more than anything, but we’d like Amaia and Yenu to have some sisters.”

“I’d like to be present for the laying, if that’s okay,” You said.

“For your research?” She asked.

Your head rocked back. “No, because you’re my friend and I want to be there for you.”

Amai smiled fondly. “Oh. Of course, thank you.”

Dr. Halvorg had not added anything to the conversation with you and Amai, and instead went to the table and made a plate of snacks. You gave Amai a look and a cocked eyebrow, and she nodded understanding, slipping away from her spot to watch her husband and children play.

“Dr. Halvorg?”

He flinched and looked up, glancing around furtively and noticing that the two of you were alone. “Yes?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again before responding, “I’m doing no such thing.”

“I’ve requested at least three meetings with you this past month, and you’re always too busy,” You said dryly.

“Well, I am,” He said, turning. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Are you avoiding me because I asked you out?” You asked bluntly.

He missed a step in his stride and stopped.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I should have realized from your professional demeanor that you wouldn’t be open to interoffice dating. I apologize.”

Halvorg sighed and turned to face you. “It’s not that. Not exactly, I mean.” He set his plate on the table and looked you full in the face for the first time in weeks. “I haven’t given a thought to dating in…” He rubbed his forehead. “Gods… decades. The question took me off guard, of course, and I actually had to sit down and give it some thought. I’ve been wrapped up in my work, of course, but I think I was just distracting myself.”

“From what?”

He sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. “It’s hard to talk about. I don’t even really talk about it with Yenuno, and I would consider him my closest friend.” He sighed heavily and avoided your eye. “I’ve ignored my personal life in favor of spending my career and fortune in this century helping races achieve something I want for myself.”

“Children?” You guessed.

He nodded a little morosely. “Not just that, but that is a significant part of it. I’ve been following the reproduction rates of Celtic fae since the fae were originally integrated and it’s decreasing year by year. I live in constant fear that my own race will be extinct in my lifetime.” He quirked his head at you. “Your race still seems to be fairly prolific, is that correct?”

“Oh yeah, I have a bunch of brothers and a truckload of cousins. No problems there.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what the problem with my race is. I’ve studied genetic traits, magical impediments, marriage and divorce rates, and ratio of coupling to conceptions.The numbers are terrible and I don’t know why. That’s what drives me crazy. I hate not having an answer.”

“Have there been miscarriages?”

“No, that’s the crazy thing, the rate of conception is extraordinarily low. I think there have only been three live births of Celtic fae blood in the last year.”

“Oh, jeez,” You said, sitting against the table next to him. “I didn’t realize the problem was that severe. Have you considered whether it might be a physical problem?”

“How do you mean?”

“Have you ever done a sperm count? Or had an MRI of the area to see if there’s a blockage? That kind of thing can be genetic and men tend to be shy about stuff like that.”

He tilted his head and frowned. “No, I haven’t. It actually hadn’t occurred to me. Honestly, I’ve been so focused on my work to distract myself, it may have worked too well and I ignored such things.” He looked at you and smiled. “You’ve given me something to think about.”

You smiled back. “Good. I wonder if the females of the race have a similar issue. It may have been something bred into the people over time, over centuries.”

“That’s possible,” He said. “There’s certainly a precedent; some creatures have been bred to extinction. Remember the pug?”

“That tiny dog breed with the squashed face?” You said. “Yeah, they died out a while ago, didn’t they?”

He nodded. “That was human interference, though. Yenuno’s people were dying out due to antisocialism; too reclusive to even propagate their own species. Yenuno was the only one of his kind to take up this project, and even he was reluctant.”

“He seems happy now,” You remarked.

“Yeah,” Halvorg said softly, watching Yenuno laughing and chasing his kids with a sad kind of jealousy. “He does.”

You watched his face, the deep, deep sadness creasing his face and making him look older than he was.

“Follow up, Halvorg, see a specialist. This may have a fix that didn’t exist the last time you tried.”

He nodded, smiling at you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will.”

As you stood up, you bumped his shoulder lightly. “Thank you for talking to me. I appreciate that you trusted me enough to discuss such a sensitive subject. I get the feeling that you don’t share yourself with many people.”

He laughed. “No, not really.” He looked up with a smile that seemed more sincere. “Thank you for listening.”

Amai went into labor three days later. She was taken to the laying room, where both Yenuno and Dr. Halvorg were present in addition to the interspecies OBGYN. You were suited up in scrubs and the paper gowns that surgeons wear, as was everyone else in the room besides Amai, who was completely naked, and Yenuno, who never wore clothing. There were natal heart monitors on her belly and an EKG hooked up to her chest.

Amai was sitting on a specially designed chair that would allow her to pass the eggs through her birth canal and into the waiting arms of the doctor. She was already sweating and panting by the time you arrived. The OBGYN and Dr. Halvorg were having a quiet conversation. You went to the other side of Amai and took her hand, trying not to wince when she nearly crushed your fingers.

“Is she okay?” You asked in alarm.

“She’s not fully dilated yet,” Halvorg said, pulling his braid into a surgical cap. “The eggs are getting impatient, it seems.”

“Yeah, well, so am I, so they can settle the fuck down!” Amai shrieked at him.

He bore the abuse with no reaction other than a wry smile. Yenuno wisely said nothing and simply wiped Amai’s forehead with a cloth.

“It won’t be long,” the OBGYN said. “She’s almost there.”

“Just saw me open and get them out,” Amai moaned. “It would hurt less.”

Yenuno tried to kiss her cheek, but she swatted him away weakly.

“No,” She said peevishly. “No touching ever again.”

“You said that last time,” He said, smiling fondly.

“Yeah, but I mean it this time,” She said sulkily.

“Of course you do, darling.” He patted her head. She scrunched her face up at him in annoyance. She was always adorable when she was miffed.

“I’ll make you into shoes,” She said sourly. “And a matching purse.”

It took a while for Amai to dilate fully, and by then she was very tired. Yenuno was looking worried; she’d laid several eggs over the years and never struggled this much before. Perhaps this being their last clutch was a good idea.

“Okay, I think we can start pushing now,” The doctor said, getting ready to catch the eggs. “Amai, when you feel the next contract, hold your breath, bear down, and push.”

“Okay,” She breathed. “One’s coming.”

We all braced for the push. Amai took several quick deep breaths and held it, her face pulled tight in pain and effort, doubling over in the chair as she did. You and Yenuno held her hands and patted her back and murmured encouragement. Halvorg was waiting with a soft cloth to take the eggs for cleaning, after which they would be laid in a specialized incubating carrier to be taken to Yenuno’s cottage.

The first egg came slowly and with much screaming. The doctor caught it and handed it off to Halvorg. The shell of the egg was soft and needed extremely delicate care, but Halvorg was well practiced by now and got the egg washed and into the carrier under ninety seconds and returned for the next.

The second egg came more quickly, but Amai screamed the whole time. By the time the third and final egg was laid, her voice was raw and she was too exhausted to scream.

But it was over. She fell back into the recline of the chair as if boneless and breathed in shallowly, her eyes barely open.

“You were amazing, darling,” Yenuno said gently, kissing Amai’s face. “Rest. I’m taking the eggs to the cottage. The children will visit you when you’ve slept.”

She turned her head slowly to look at him and touched her fingertips to his face, tracing down his cheek, chin, neck and chest before letting her hand fall back to her side, and her eyes closed. Nurses came to whisk her away to a recovery room, the OBGYN following behind. Yenuno and Halvorg left to take the eggs to the cottage for the incubation, and you were left alone in the laying room.

As you were shedding the paper gown and surgical cap, you noticed a small book lying on the ground. It looked to be one of Halvorg’s research journals, though it was smaller than his usual ones. He must have dropped it out of his back pocket when he was disrobing. You picked it up and took it with you with the intent on returning it to him in the morning.

And of course, you’d completely forgotten by the time you woke up.

Amai recovered enough in a few days to be up and walking around. She and the children took turns keeping Yenuno company, as he grew morose if he was left alone too long. You had declared half days until the new babies hatched so that they could have more time with their dad.

One afternoon, after the children had left class for the day, Dr. Halvorg came in and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Hello,” You said pleasantly, closing the folder with their latest work for grading. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I wanted to let you know I took you up on your advice,” He said, looking a little bashful. “I went and saw a specialist. They’re going to be doing some tests soon. Sperm count, blood tests, an MRI. Any test that can be done will be done.”

“Good!” You said, swinging your chair around. “I’m glad. Maybe you’ll finally get an answer.”

He sighed, looking pensive and anxious. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I still wanted to thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“I didn’t push you to do it, Maël,” You said. His eyes narrowed at your use of his first name, but he didn’t say anything. “I just brought the subject up. It was your decision to do it.”

“Well, thank you all the same,” He replied. “I admit, I’m nervous about it. I could either get wonderful news or have my worst fears confirmed. I don’t know how I’ll react to either option.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” You asked him.

He looked at you in surprise. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t,” You replied. “But this is the kind of thing you need friends for. And since Yenuno is tied up with the eggs, I could be a good substitute. You don’t even have to think of me as a friend, if you don’t want to, just an emotional support associate.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I think of you as a friend.”

“Well, thank you. I was hoping we’d get there eventually. So? What do you think? Want some support for this?”

“Not for the tests, I can do those by myself perfectly well,” He said, adjusting his tie nervously. “But… for the results… perhaps… a friend would be nice.”

“I’ll be there for you, then,” You said, standing and patting his arm. “Does Yenuno know about this? Have you talked to him about it?”

“No,” He replied. “I didn’t want to tell him while he’s dealing with his own new babies. Besides, if the news is not good, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. If the news comes back positive… I don’t know… I think this is one thing I’d rather keep to myself.”

“Except for me, you mean,” You said.

He nodded concedingly. “Besides you.”

“Let me know when the results come back and I’ll go with you. We’ll make a day of it, go to a spa, get a bikini wax together, eat some overpriced salads, buy something ridiculous we want but don’t need. It’ll be a blast.”

He actually laughed a little. “Sounds like a plan.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

126 notes · View notes

dickspeightjrs · 3 years

Text

Confessions of a Roommate in Love (college au / 3.1k words / roommates)

ao3 link

During college you’ll do anything to earn a bit of extra cash between classes.

Ash does computer shit for people (Dean has learned not to ask about how legal it all his work is). Jo works in her mom, Ellen’s, bar. Benny hustles pool in said bar (while avoiding Ellen’s wrath).

But Dean and Castiel do something a little different.

They enter trials and experiments posted around their university’s psychology and science departments. The psychology department, especially, knows them pretty well by now. It’s got to the point where they’ll just go straight to Dean and Castiel and ask if they’re interested.

So that has what led Dean to racing into their apartment one Tuesday afternoon in their final year with a look of sheer childish glee on his face.

Castiel is laying back on the sofa working on something but looks up from his laptop at the slam of the door and squints at Dean’s expression. He can never quite trust that Dean’s gleeful looks won’t end in tears eventually. But whatever Dean usually suggests Castiel will go along with because that’s what best friends do.

“They’re doing another research project in the Psych department. Charlie emailed me the details.” Dean explains.

Castiel’s interest is clearly piqued and he closes his laptop, moving to sit properly on the sofa to give Dean room to sit down next to him.

“She said there’s a few stages to it. We’ve got to enter some video submission thing first to see if we’re the right fit and then they’ll invite us in for the real thing. Pretty much like the rest of them.” Dean shrugs, taking the offered seat next to Castiel.

He pulls up the email on his phone and scrolls straight to the specific information for potential participants. They’ve done so many of these things that he tends to scroll right past most of the generic information.

Castiel’s interested gaze stays on him.

“Ah, here it is.” Dean quickly scans the text before reading it out. “So it’s a study about roommates and looks like we have to just answer a few questions about each other. Easy.” Dean grins.

“What kind of questions do we have to answer?” Castiel asks.

“Just basic ones about living together - who’s the messiest,” Dean snorts, “that’s you.”

Castiel makes an offended noise and plucks Dean’s phone out of his hand. “I think you’ll find that’s you actually. I don’t think your socks have ever made it to the laundry basket.”

Dean watches as Castiel scrolls through the rest of the questions. He lets out the occasional chuckle at some of the questions - even the tiniest of laughs lights up his face.

Eventually, Castiel hands Dean back his phone. “They’re definitely easy questions. I’ll just pack my study stuff away and we can get started on the video. It’ll be better to submit it as soon as possible.” Castiel rises to his feet and collects his laptop in his arms. He’s about to walk down the hall to his bedroom when he turns back to face Dean. “I’m glad this one is about roommates. Given the amount of times we’ve had to pretend to be a couple for these things,” he chuckles and goes to his room, not waiting for a response from Dean.

Dean’s glad Castiel has left and can’t see his face fall from a fake smile.

Castiel is right. There have been a few times when they’ve participated in research studies and posed as a couple. But what Castiel doesn’t know is that there was no faking on Dean’s part.

Truthfully, Dean is hopelessly and completely in love with Castiel.

It’s so unbelievably cliche that Dean can’t quite believe it’s actually true. But it is.

Ever since they first met, there has been something about Castiel that seems to complete Dean in ways that he never knew he needed.

Despite successfully pretending to be a couple, Dean has never told Castiel how he feels. Risking their friendship is too much. The chance that he could ruin everything between them is too big.

So he stays quiet. Living in the hope that it will blow over one day and he’ll find someone who will love him back the way he wants to be loved.

“Dean, are you listening?”

Dean blinks back to reality and sees Castiel standing in front of him. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to use your phone or mine?” Castiel looks at him quizzically. “Unless you’re not feeling up to it right now? We can do it later.”

God bless Castiel for being concerned for Dean all the time.

“Nah, man.” Dean clears his throat and mentally shakes himself. “I’ll have the questions on my phone, so I guess we could use your phone to film it.”

Castiel nods, though he still looks a little skeptical that Dean is actually okay. “I’ll go and get my tripod for my phone.”

Dean smiles and waits for Castiel to be gone from the room before he takes a deep breath and casts any thoughts of his true feelings away. It’s not Castiel’s fault Dean feels this way, and Dean isn’t going to take it out on the guy by acting weird.

Castiel returns and effortlessly sets up the camera to record.

Having done submission videos like this before, Dean doesn’t feel self conscious about the feeling of having a camera on him anymore.

Instead, he looks over the email again.

Castiel drops himself down on the couch next to Dean and naturally lets their knees touch. Dean keeps his eyes focused on the phone in his hand.

“So it says we have to answer these questions as quick as we can. Don’t think too much about the answers.” Dean explains.

Castiel nods in understanding.

“Right, let’s get started.” Dean says. “First question: Who makes the most noise?”

“Dean.”

“Yeah it is me.” Dean has to admit. “It’s the music. Gotta start the day with listening to some classic rock.”

Castiel snorts. “Yes but you don’t only start the day with classic rock. You end with it too. And you play it when you study. And shower. And when you’re sad.”

Dean blushes a little at the thought of Castiel knowing when Dean is sad and when he listens to music to cope with it.

He clears his throat. “Okay, next question.”

* * *

It’s another couple of days before an email pings itself into Dean’s inbox telling him that he and Castiel are through to the next stage of the study.

Dean hasn’t thought about his feelings for Castiel since they filmed the video and he’s very happy to keep it that way.

He’s sat in the living room watching the new episode of Dr Sexy when Castiel comes through the door after his last class of the day. He looks tired and completely adorable.

“Hey, man. Got an email today, we’re through to the next stage. You free tomorrow afternoon?”

Castiel doesn’t reply straight away. Instead he trudges over to the couch and flops down next to Dean. The dude must really be as tired as he looks because he sighs and rests his weary head on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean resists the urge to rest his head on Castiel’s in return. “You okay there, Cas?” He asks, looking down at Castiel’s head of dark hair.

“I’ve had a long day. That last final nearly killed me. I swear to god.” Castiel groans.

As much as Dean loves Castiel, the dude can be a real drama queen when he wants to be.

“Come on, man, you’ve aced all your finals and you know it. You’re the smartest guy I know.”

Castiel abruptly lifts his head from Dean’s shoulder and looks his friend in the eyes. “Thank you, Dean,” he says, sincerity shining in his eyes. His eyes seem to flicker down to Dean’s momentarily but Dean is sure it must just have been the lights or something.

Dean swallows and coughs before he does something stupid. “Anyway, you free tomorrow then?”

Castiel clears his throat too and shifts away from Dean’s personal space a little. “Yes, I am free all day. I was just planning to sleep now that finals are over. But it’ll be nice to see what happens with Charlie’s research project.”

Dean nods. “Awesome, I’ll text Charlie and tell her we’re free.”

Text sent, Dean returns his attention to Dr Sexy, who is making out with yet another intern on screen. What Dean wouldn’t give to be one of those interns.

He almost forgets that Castiel hasn’t actually left the living room until he feels a soft weight fall onto his shoulder again. He looks to see that Castiel has fallen asleep on the couch next to him. Now Castiel’s head has slipped down and rested itself against Dean’s arm.

Any normal roommate would wake Castiel up and tell him to go to his room and get some sleep. But Dean just can’t bring himself to disturb Castiel’s peaceful slumber. Finals must have really knocked it out of him.

And if Dean gets a little joy out of having Castiel this close to him, well that’s no one else’s business but his own.

* * *

“Okay I just need you guys to sign a few documents before we get started.” Charlie explains. “I know you’ve seen most of these before with the other studies but there’s a couple new ones in there so make sure you look at them carefully. Dean.” She raises an eyebrow at him.

Dean looks up from where he’d been scanning the papers Charlie handed them when they walked into the classroom. His face is a picture of perfect innocence and offence of being accused of such things.

“Don’t pull that face, Dean. Charlie is right, you can be rather lackadaisical with important documentation.” Castiel says, his eyes never leaving the papers he’s reading.

Trust Castiel to know exactly how Dean would react without even looking at him. And lackadaisical? Who even says that? God, Castiel is such a fucking dork.

Papers thoroughly read and signed, Charlie takes Dean and Castiel into a smaller room with two stools next to each other in the middle. A pretty simple set up compared to some of the things they’ve been part of.

“Take a seat. It doesn’t matter which seat you take, just make sure you’re both facing me.” Charlie instructs.

Both boys do as asked.

“Okay, from now on neither of you can talk to the other. You can only talk to me. Understand?”

Dean and Castiel give identical nods.

“Good. This is the first stage. There is another one after and we will give you more information about that once this one is finished.” Charlie continues. “Much like your video submission, for this round you will be answering questions based on living together.”

Dean tries to concentrate on what Charlie is saying but the stools really are close together and Castiel’s knee is knocking against his own. The small spot of warmth from the other man both relaxes and makes Dean anxious at the same time. But Dean daren’t move his leg away. Castiel would wonder why he’d moved away and probably get a little pouty frown on his face. The same as he did the night before when Dean had finally got up from the couch because he needed the bathroom.

“And remember, the main rule of these questions is: what happens in this room stays in the room. Got it?”

Dean swallows and nods. He’d missed a bit of what Charlie had said but he’d probably figure it out.

“Awesome. Let’s begin.” Charlie smiles. “First question: what do you like most about living together?”

Dean knows what he’d like to answer but he’ll never confess. Instead, he goes for a more playful answer. “I like that Castiel gets free donuts from his job at the coffee shop.”

From the corner of his eye he can see Castiel roll his eyes. “I like that Dean has a brother that I can have much more intellectually stimulating conversations with,” Castiel replies with a smug face.

Dean would argue but he’s not allowed to speak directly to Castiel. (And to be honest, his brother may only be eighteen but he is freakishly clever.)

Charlie smirks and shakes her head as she writes down their answers.

“Next: What do you hate most about living together?”

This time Castiel gets his answer in first. “I hate that Dean leaves dirty socks around the apartment.”

Now Dean rolls his eyes. Castiel is always nagging Dean about his socks. They didn’t need to come all the way down here for Castiel to get that off his chest.

“I hate that you always put the empty milk carton back in the fridge. It’s gross dude.”

Castiel levels Dean with a look that says ‘you do that too and you know it’.

Dean just shrugs.

After another few questions, the first round is over and Charlie allows them to have a break. Only they’re still not allowed to talk to each other so they go into the first room and sit at either ends.

Dean is tempted to text Castiel from across the room but he knows Charlie would be hugely pissed if she found out he broke the rules.

Soon enough, they’re called back into the question room.

When they enter they’re met with the same two stools but this time there’s a solid white screen between them.

As they take their seats again, Castiel disappears behind the partition and Dean suddenly realises why it’s probably there. It’s probably an attempt to be more honest with each other because they won’t see the other’s immediate reaction.

“Okay,” Charlie begins again, “it’s the same rules as before. I’ll ask you some questions again. And remember: what happens in this room, stays in this room.”

Dean takes a deep breath. He hates being reminded of that. As if Charlie knows he’s not telling the full truth. Which, of course, he isn’t. But they don’t know that.

“First question: what has been the worst thing about living together?”

Dean internally rolls his eyes, how can he think of another bullshit jokey answer?

His thoughts are stopped by Castiel softly clearing his throat on the other side of the wall. Dean can do nothing but look at Charlie sitting opposite them. She seems to be sending Castiel a kind smile.

“The worst thing,” Castiel begins, “was that you were hurting so much when your mom died and I couldn’t do anything to help take the pain away.” The end of the sentence comes out in almost a whisper.

Dean is overwhelmed. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He doesn’t often talk about his mother’s death, not even with Castiel. That was one of the lowest moments of his life. But Castiel had been his rock. Cleaning up after him when he was in depressed moods, dragging him out of bars and shoving him in the shower to sober up. God, Dean would have flunked out of college by now if Castiel hadn’t saved him.

“You did just by being there, man.” Dean whispers, tears coming to his eyes. He takes a small breath and sits in the silence for a few moments. “Dammit, you promise that whatever happens in here, stays in here?” He asks Charlie.

“Well, from my point of view, yes. I will not discuss the details of your answers outside the parameters of the study, and your names will be anonymised when your data is used in the final report. However, it’s up to you two if it carries on with you outside these four walls.

Dean takes a shaky breath, letting Charlie’s answer wash over him for a moment.

“I would never judge you or be angry at you for anything, Dean.” Castiel’s kind voice rumbles through the partition.

And if that ain’t Castiel summed up perfectly, Dean thinks. Castiel is the most thoughtful and selfless person Dean has ever met. And Dean loves him.

Dean feels like he might just burst if he doesn’t finally put his feelings into physical words.

Castiel would forgive Dean of anything. It’s that thought that pushes Dean to take a final, calming deep breath and jump.

“Fuck it, you wanna know the worst thing about living with Cas?” Dean asks, rhetorically. “It’s that every day I look at him and see everything I could ever want but can never have.” Dean finally confesses. And once the floodgates are open, he finds that he just can’t stop. “It terrifies me that one day he’ll leave for someone better.”

Dean thinks he can hear a soft noise coming from Castiel’s side but he’s not done.

“And the thing I really hate the most having Cas as a roommate? It’s that my fucking heart breaks a little more every time he walks through the door because I know one day it’ll be the last.”

Dean can’t bring himself to look at Charlie so he looks down at his hands, nervously playing with them in his lap.

No sound comes from Castiel’s side and Dean closes his eyes in defeat and sheer regret. He’s ruined everything for sure. He should have known Castiel wouldn’t feel the same. He should have just kept it to himself.

As if to prove Dean right, he hears footsteps in the quiet room. Footsteps that he’d recognise anywhere.

Great, Castiel has left which means Charlie’s research is probably ruined too.

Fuck, shit. Can’t Dean get anything fucking right?

Only, when he listens more carefully, he notices the footsteps aren’t retreating. In fact, they sound like they’re coming closer and closer to Dean.

Dean finally opens his eyes and lifts his head to see Castiel standing in front of him. The overhead light is positioned perfectly behind his head and creates a ring of pure light around him.

Castiel silently lifts a hand to Dean’s chin, cupping it ever so slightly. Dean can’t help but fall for Castiel all over again, just looking into his eyes.

“I know Charlie didn’t ask it yet but would you like to know what I love most about living with you, Dean?”

Dean nods, eyes never leaving Castiel’s.

“It’s that I fall in love with you more and more every day, and I’m completely helpless to stop it.”

Dean can’t believe what he’s hearing and assumes this must all be a dream.

Dream or not, he’s not taking any chances and letting Castiel slip away.

Dean pushes himself up from his seat to meet Castiel’s lips and bring him into a kiss.

This definitely isn’t a dream, Dean thinks, he’s never felt something so intense in his life.

They finally part once Charlie awkwardly clears her throat, reminding them that she’s still there.

They still don’t turn their attention to her though. Instead, Castiel rests his head against Dean’s and whispers between them “This definitely isn’t staying in this room.”

A/N: I quite liked writing this, I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Please REBLOG if you liked it.

If you enjoy my works and would like to be added to my tags list, let me know!

TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @breathingdestiel @simplymisha

@thekingslover @aelysianmuse @2musiclover2 @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @50shadesofsubtext @destielle @carryoncastiel @winchester-novak @angelwithashotguun @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @chaoticdean @jensenacklesruinedmylife @huckleberryhusbands @good-things-do-happen-dean @irlydontknoanymore @little-greek5 @joana-the-banana @findingfantazja1627 @fevercas

@mishha @casbelieves @duckyboos-blog @rambleoncas @destiel4life @bastard-man-barba @fiercedean @jackk-o-lanterns @aurastiel @castyel @joharvele

#destiel #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #destielfanficnet #myfic #fluff #angst #first kiss #au #collegeau #3k #friends to lovers #student!dean #student!cas #minor:charlie

175 notes · View notes

everything-laito · 3 years

Text

the FBI agent looking at my computer must be so incredibly concerned. Here’s Laito and Cordelia analysis, Part II

Hiya, Corn here! This is Part II of this analysis series! Part one’s here!

Not getting into the trauma part of it yet. Just explaining abusive power dynamics and how incestuous relationships work. As well as Stockholm syndrome. Lovely! Lovely combo! Fuck!!!

Same trigger warnings as last time still apply!

As always, rant under the cuuuuut!

Ok, from last time, we’ve established the elements that were set in place for Cordelia to do this to Laito, when Laito’s trauma began, and the possible fact that he was groomed as a child for sexual exploitation. Wow. Yay. Amazing. This is so gross!!! Thanks, I hate it!!!! I know I usually cary these topics with just an informational tone but I just can’t with this ;lskfjklsajf But I’m here typing this, you’re here reading this, so let’s just get on with the grossness!

Section 3: Legal Definitions of Incest and Power Dynamics

Now we’re gonna get into the flesh of the problem, and what we know happened. From last time, and common DL knowledge, Laito was coerced into having sex with Cordelia. I say coerced, rather than forced, because it’s not like Laito seemed to resist it. He seems to “willingly” give Cordelia that. Is dubious consent, consent? Oh fuck no, and dubious or coerced consent shouldn’t even count in here considering it’s straight up incest. Any type of incest, most especially between a parent and a child, is not considered consensual, even if it “technically is.” That’s how it’s handled in a court of law, at least in America (where I’m from and reside in), and I do agree with that morally as well. A “romantic” and sexual relationship between a parent (or adult family member; aunt, grandfather, etc) and a child (is just gross) preys upon the power dynamic between them. This isn’t any consensual BDSM power dynamic (obviously), or a constructive power dynamic in the workplace; it’s just a power dynamic already instilled into the relationship where it is taken advantage of. That’s not just fucked up incest, that’s an example of a toxic relationship from the get go. Also, there’s a power dynamic usually between a parent and child, but that doesn’t mean it’s always toxic. It just needs to be done responsibly, which good parents (or any adult in power) know how to maneuver around it and not take advantage of it for manipulation etc.

In healthy relationships, you both start on equal ground. It usually never works out if you don’t see the other as an equal, whether you have a predisposed power dynamic at the beginning or not. I’m talking any relationship; family relationships, friendships, romantic, sexual, etc. Although you older folks might know about BDSM and how there’s a “power dynamic” instilled in the relationship, a chosen and consensual “power dynamic” still involves both parties seeing the other one as an equal––intrinsically. It’s just very different than a predisposed power dynamic. That even goes with friendship too! Or any kind of healthy, nontoxic social interaction! Taken directly from Psychology Today, “Shared power creates happy individuals and satisfying interactions.” People need to be on equal ground in order to have a healthy relationship. Which,,,, we know does not happen with Cordelia and Laito (and Laito and Yui for that matter, but that’s during another part of this series). An article I saw during the research of this explains further about how power dynamics can be constructive. This focuses more on the workplace, but it applies to this because it’s looking at the other person as another person (an equal) but uses that predisposed power for encouragement, empowerment, and constructiveness (like a good parent or adult role model would do). I hope this makes sense!

Basically Cordelia is abusing her power in order to do all this to Laito. That’s why grooming would make a lot of sense in this as well, because we know it’s definitely not the first time Cordelia has taken advantage of a power imbalance to her own selfish benefit. That’s why incest isn’t really explained with the same science as pedophilia. I forget if I’ve mentioned it before, but one way pedophilia can occur in a person if their brain was originally biologically wired in a way that sees children as sexual objects. With incest, it could also work like that as well, but it is mainly power abuse, like most sexual exploitation, harassment, assault, etc is.

Section 4: Incest (I’d make a sweet home Alabama joke but that’s low hanging fruit)

Ok so now that we’ve gone over the legality of incest, and how power dynamics can be taken advantage of, we’re gonna look into the type of incest (yes apparently there are types) that Cordelia and Laito fits into. Also if this already wasn’t clear or anything, hi incest and pedophilia etc are forms of abuse, there is no justifying it at all. It’s abuse, no matter what’s said. I know these are fictional characters but I sometimes see Ayato x Cordelia and Laito x Cordelia etc posts and I kinda just wanna commit heinous crimes whenever I see that. Just the idea of that absolutely sickens me (on top of the abuse shown in DL already). Anyways, after all of that out of the way, let’s go into this.

Since Laito is biologically 17, I’d say that he’s considered as a child (teenager) by demon world standards. We don’t know his age when Cordelia first physically exploited him, but we do know that his same “teenage” sprite is used during the flashbacks. Since his trauma fits so well with the aftermath definition of parent/child incest, I’m just gonna give y’all information on that. This is also called “child incestuous abuse,” which is also a form of child sexual abuse.

I learned an interesting factoid researching this, and that is in Japan, the most commonly believed incestuous relationship was between mothers and sons. In the West, we think of fathers/daughters. In Japan, the media covers more on mother/son incestuous acts; while statistically, more father/daughter incestuous acts are taken place. Just something interesting(?) I found, and probably why DL chose that for storytelling too.

In this Wikipedia article, taken from a scientific paper (I’d take it directly from the source but you need an account to get in and I think you need to pay for it), it says this:

A study of victims of father–daughter incest in the 1970s showed that there were "common features" within families before the occurrence of incest: estrangement between the mother and the daughter, extreme paternal dominance, and reassignment of some of the mother's traditional major family responsibility to the daughter.

Sure, this talks about father/daughter incestuous relationships, but if we take this and reverse most of the roles, it shows Laito’s situation to a T:

Estrangement between Karlheinz and Laito

Extreme maternal dominance (aka Cordelia being very abusive/manipulative)

Reassignment of some of the parental responsibility to Laito (there’s many examples of “big bro Laito,” and Ayato and Kanato considers that they used Laito as a “sacrifice”––as a “shield” for the both of them. Sure this isn’t explicit parental responsibility shown through Laito but I’d say he acts more like a family member to Ayato and Kanato too)

Section 5: Stockholm syndrome? With parental figures?

Laito had some interesting situations occur during this whole thing with Cordelia. One of the most infamous scenes from the game (that’s also illustrated in the HDB manga) is a flashback Laito has where he’s locked up, forced to see Cordelia and Richter have sex. He’s appalled by the fact at first, but then attempts to convince himself that he’s into it. However, I won’t get into the effects until the next part.

I didn’t find much about Stockholm syndrome being in this specific case with incest and kidnapping a child etc. When you look up Stockholm syndrome related to parents you get quite the sexist “article” that definitely mocks the whole Stockholm syndrome thing and makes fun of guys being into Glee and such,,,, so that wasn’t a very helpful article. However, I’m just gonna mish mash and put a lot of concepts that we’ve learned together. But first, a look into Stockholm syndrome.

Stockholm syndrome occurs when an abuse victim develops empathy or even intimate feelings for their abuser or captor. This happens because any bit of kindness the abuser enacts towards their victim is taken so positively, that the victim “forgets” all the negative actions, and focuses on the positive ones. This isn’t some sort of “oh ya gotta think positive!” kind of thing, it’s how abusers get away with their bullshit and how someone can be so trapped in a relationship with them. It’s also called traumatic bonding or victim brainwashing (source). This doesn’t always happen with people who are held hostage, like in Stockholm syndrome’s name origin.

A parent’s influence can be a strong one. Doesn’t even have to be related to by blood. But a figure that is supposed to be nurturing—whether they are or not—still has power over the “child.” He definitely went through Stockholm Syndrome himself with Cordelia, considering the grooming and the “love”/hate relationship he has with Cordelia. I did some more digging, and apparently Stockholm Syndrome can still occur more commonly with sexually abused victims. Which we all know he is. With the possible grooming, on top of the power abuse and sexual abuse, creates an incredibly toxic concoction. Here we go. The (rotten) cherry on top. Directly from my HDB notes, here’s a snippet from his Maniac Prologue:

Cordelia: Nnn…Hey, Laito. You are a good boy. Laito: …!! Cordelia: Right, Laito? Laito: Yeah, that’s right. I’m…I’m a good boy after all. ーー Besides, I’m the type of person who only get more aroused from this kind of thing.

(from my notes:) Basically Laito convinces himself to be a “cuckhold.” It’s definitely implied how he just wants approval from Cordelia; this is how this abuse prolongs.

(Also, if I ever said that Laito was locked up by Cordelia, my bad; it was Karlheinz who gave that order. I’m unsure where I ever said this, but I feel like I said it before, so I’m gonna clarify that right now too, oops! My memory hath failed me.)

Cordelia’s praise effects Laito in such a visceral way that he tries so hard to cope with the trauma in her favor. It’s incredibly messed up. But that’s the defining factor in this. From this, I do believe Laito has Stockholm syndrome on top of all of his issues.

I think I’m gonna end it here for now. Didn’t expect to be this long, oops. Stay tuned for next time, where I’m gonna go over Laito’s trauma and how he’s been effected by it. Thanks for reading, FBI agent! And oh, you as well, dear reader!

If you’ve read this far holy fuck I commend you -Corn

#analysis #Laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #raito sakamaki #sakamaki raito #Cordelia sakamaki #sakamaki cordelia #diabolik lovers #dialovers #dialover #dl #corn pops off once again

125 notes · View notes

ivanshatov · 3 years

Text

what the fuck, gay little edgar

(also on ao3)

wc: 1.5k

i havent written about king lear in a while huh. anyways funny gay people

Something the peace of an isolated country town offered was the lone coffee store. Maybe there were no fantastic shops, or entertainment, or places to go, but at least there was the coffee shop, right on the corner and hidden in the basement of an older building. It was the perfect meeting place, and the perfect refuge for a shivering and rain-soaked Edgar, struggling with his bag as he stumbled down the steps. His arrival was announced with the chime of a bell, and the door swung shut behind him.

He was greeted immediately by Cordelia, who accosted him by the arm and dragged him to their corner table before he could even so much as look at the cashiers. “I thought you might have forgotten!” she exclaimed, mary-janes clicking on the tile floor.

“No, it was just rainy. Very rainy, as a matter of fact.”

She looked him over before plopping in her booth. “I can tell.”

“Ahaha. Thanks,” he replied. Pushing his wet hair out of his face and flashing a pointed eye roll, he took a seat across from her. “I already got you a coffee. You can pay me back later, don’t worry,” she announced proudly, sliding him the paper cup with a smile.

He stared blankly into the cup and loosened his tie. “Thanks.” Then, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I know, Dad’s been dragging me everywhere but school,” she replied, raising her eyebrows and lifting the coffee to her lips. “How’s your studies?”

“Oh, you know, great…” Edgar muttered, sheepishly turning his gaze to look out the window. Rain pattered down on the fogged glass. “I don’t know. Haven’t figured out anything I want to take my A-Levels for.”

“There must be something that interests you. History? How about French? Science? Anything you particularly enjoy?”

“I don’t particularly enjoy academics as it is,” Edgar huffed, blowing off the steam that had gathered above the cup. “Edmund says I’m a mean footballer. He’s better at that academic crap.”

Cordelia shifted at the mention of his brother, crossing her argyle tights and smoothing her skirt. “How is Edmund, anyhow?” She glanced out the window, then eyed Edgar again. “And perhaps you should get him to tutor you.”

“My snot-nosed brother has more interesting things to do than tutor the likes of me, such as a production of Anything Goes to attend to,” he snorted.

Cordelia grinned, fidgeting with one of her earrings as she spoke. “I didn’t know Edmund could sing.”

“He can’t, actually. Assistant stage manager,” Edgar winked. “Boosted his ego more than ever before. Trust me, you don’t want to hear him sing, unless you’d like to go to the doctor’s for an ear infection.”

“Ah, yes, the unadulterated ego of a primary school theatre kid,” she said wistfully, holding her paper cup to the light.

Edgar leaned back, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “And how are your studies?”

Cordelia huffed, pushing her cup aside. “Nonexistent. Dad and his advisors would prefer me to be fawning over dresses. At least I get to spend time with my sisters, but—” she cleared her throat. “I’ve been thinking of applying to go to school in the states.”

“The states?! Talk about creating distance. You’d go that far to get away from this?” Edgar asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t want to do this obsolete crap. I’d rather go to California, or something, and wear what I want,” she grumbled. “Certainly not ballgowns. Well, maybe you should consider football. Soccer, whatever. Come to Cali with me.”

“Eh, I don’t really have a choice. Dad’s been waiting for me to inherit the earldom since day one,” Edgar replied, folding his hands. “Would be fun though.”

“Why can’t Edmund just take it?” she asked, innocuous, drawing her finger over the rim of the coffee cup.

Edgar rolled his eyes again. “You know as well as I do that that won’t happen.”

“In a perfect world…” Cordelia said, drawing out another long and wistful sigh and batting her fake eyelashes. “Now, why have you called this meeting here, your grace?”

He cleared his throat, fidgeting with his tie and collar and sitting up in the proper way. “I’ve come to discuss certain romantic developments that’ve happened.”

“Oh, who?!” Cordelia squealed and grabbed Edgar’s hand, swinging it back and forth. “Your first partner! What’s their name? Are they at court? I must know this instant. I can get Mr. Kent to arrange a date if so. My goodness! My little godbrother, finding the love of his life!”

“No, it’s not like that,” Edgar mumbled, his face hot with embarrassment. “It’s something else. Plus, you are but nine months my senior, Cordelia.”

“Nine months makes but all the difference in the world. Now tell me, what is this regarding?” She leaned forward in interest, hands folded.

“Oh, Cordelia.” Edgar looked away sheepishly, tugging at the loop of his tie before turning back and keeping his gaze on her mary-janes. “I think, I think, I may be, um…” He looked up, a shade of red, before turning away again. “I may be unable to carry on the bloodline of my father.”

Cordelia cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Edgar hushed his voice and placed his hands on the back of his head. “I think I’m gay.”

Cordelia sat, dumbfounded, as he continued in a panic. “You see, I took this quiz, and, and, it all made sense. That’s not the reason I think I’m gay, though, you know, I think I’ve always known, because every time my dad tried to set me up with some girl from the court I just feel nothing. I look at those women on TV and I feel nothing. You must understand, right? I mean, you’re—” Edgar cut himself off, hiding his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just always thought, well, you, maybe, were, um, like me. And, well, Edmund has experience with this too but I always thought that, well…” His tirade drew to its close and he inhaled a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Cordelia started to laugh. “No, no. Don’t apologize, you’re fine. You’re right. Thank you for trusting me. I’m bisexual myself, so, yes, I do quite understand your struggle,” Cordelia waved her hands and winked. “My sisters know. They don’t really understand, of course, but they know. My dad, on the other hand…” She trailed off and smiled halfheartedly. “So, Edmund knows?”

“We use the same computer so he at least suspects something,” Edgar coughed. “Well, I’m confident he won’t judge me. But my father, oh, my dad! I don’t know what he’ll do! His first son, his proudest achievement, killing off the Gloucester bloodline forever!”

“Edmund can still have children though, no?” she asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Well, um, I suppose— Cordelia,” he mumbled, shoving his face back into his hands. “I don’t know what I’ll tell him. He’s already disappointed that I don’t know or care for the first thing about politics, and now, well, I just don’t know.” Edgar shifted in his seat, hands drumming on the table. “God, I’m sorry to be dumping all of this on you.”

“Don’t apologize. You don’t have to apologize to me,” she insisted, smiling. “If there’s one thing I know about your father, it’s that he loves you. Very much. He may not always show that love in the right ways, but I can assure you he does. Trust me, I’ve learned that the hard way.” She outstretched her hand and linked it with his. “It’s really your decision. If you feel safe or not, it’s your choice, and I can’t make it for you. Just remember, he’s your dad.”

“Yeah, my dad,” Edgar muttered, rolling his eyes. “Stupid fucking dad living vicariously through his son.” He slurped the rest of the coffee and slammed the paper cup down. “I hate it here.”

“Not the coffee shop, though?”

“No, I just hate it here,” he grumbled, puffing his cheeks. “You’re right, monarchies should be obsolete.”

Cordelia threw her head back and laughed. “And I thought you knew nothing of politics, Edgar!” Her eyes sparkled as she tossed her hair back over her shoulders. “At least you have the right idea about it.”

An anxious look crossed Edgar’s face, and she grabbed his hand. “Hey. You’ll be fine. We’ll make it out sooner or later.” She leaned forward and cupped her hand around his ear. “Or, escape to the States with me and we can go surfing or something.”

Edgar closed his eyes and snorted. “Right, surfing. That’s on the top of my bucket list.” He sighed, resting his head in his hands and gazing back at Cordelia’s warm gaze. “You’re right. We’re going to be just fine.”

“Just fine,” she repeated. “Promise.”

#edgar of gloucester #cordelia #king lear #lear #my writes #shakespeare #william shakespeare #ahha #i like it when the characters from the 1600s are funny and gay

22 notes · View notes

nightwolf992 · 3 years

Text

【Dance with you forever】

（Bubbline schoolParo）

#This article is translated into English.

Please forgive me that there may be unsmooth situations.

#This is a fabricated world setting.

Monday, sunny,Ooo University General College.

I’m Bonnibel Bubblegum，I have 575 years of experience working as an exchange student everywhere after junior high school.

I am now serving as Sc.D. within Ooo University General College.

After I returned here to teach, I met classmates who met 200 years ago,And then I became her teacher.

At present, I have to deal with this every day, the problems students that are put on me.

“Marceline, how old are you, ? Can you not be doing these things?”

Inside the office，Pink-haired PhD performance unhappy.

A list of troubles caused by the vampire in hand.

“How? Did I bother you? Bonniebel?”

The 1000-year-old childish vampire just stacks her hands on the back of the head and raised his feet to lie back.，And the whole conversation did not “sit” in a chair.

“Uh, yes? You have a lot of trouble to the upper level that I just need to control you. Just because, oh… just because I know you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry? Anyway, If nothing else, I’ll go first, bye!”

“Marceline!”

The vampire has flew out of the office with a fast speed,The doctoral who just stood up had to sit down again and whisper:

“… what exactly should I do.”

Marceline Abadeer,Celebrities and troublesome characters in Ooo University General College.Over 200 years in school.

There’s no big problem with academic performance, But always because of trouble, and cause flunked.

She is good at playing most musical instruments.

She prefers to play bass transformed from axe.

She often holds solo concerts on campus during festivals.

She is currently the subject of special attention of Dr. Bonnibel.

That day is the beginning of the new semester.

This time the vampire sees the familiar name in the course selection form teacher bar.

Breathing under the black hood stopped for a few seconds.

…Bonnibel，Sc.D. .

Although she had no interest in science herself, Marceline still chose that course.

After that, the first lesson of bubblegum started.

Marceline entered the lecture hall after hearing the end of the call 5 minutes after her heard the end of the call.

And the bubblegum on the podium also stopped the computer operation in the hands of the computer, looked at Matherine.

“… how are you here?”

Quiet empty lecture hall can hear bubblegum softly after all the students who ask questions leave.

But that does not have the warmth of the habit of vampire memory… is a hint of disgust.

“As before, I was regraded.”

Faced with questioning, Matherine just responded with a smile.

The face after black hair under the hood, there is so much provocative.

“How did you stay for 200 years? Marceline!”

Bonnie scolded at Marceline,After all, thisguy was Bonnie’s once classmate.

Now she comes back here after her advanced studies, but still sees the vampire that hasn’t changed.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m too cool, BonnieBel.”

And vampires basically don’t look like reflect on something.

“Do you know what you’re talking about? … Use your brain and don’t let eternal life affect your brain function.”

After that, Bonnie left the vampire.

As a 24/7 troublesome student, What to do when your own teacher is a friend of the past?

Noisy her.

Fold your homework into paper airplane,Add ice to her hot tea，When you learned that she was responsible for your trouble, you violated several school rules.

That was fun, ha!

A few months later, Bonniebel couldn’t stand it.

After school Bonnie took Marceline about to the top floor of the school and raged:

“What the hell is going on with you! Marceline!”

The vampire was apparently scared, she asked:

“… what?”

“Oh! Don’t install silly. You know what I’m talking about.”

This response makes Marceline also begin to be unhappy.

“No, I don’t know! I’m sorry, I even forgot why you were away from me like that!

I didn’t do anything wrong, and I didn’t need to prove anything to you, nor did I seek to fix your relationship with me!”

It may be unexpected reaction scared bubblegum,Or the psychological Protection was cracked.

Tears slide down from pink cheeks.

The original clear accent was replaced by a slight cry.

“I… I just want you to be responsible for your life.”

The first time she was attracted to Marceline was at a high school prom.

Bonnie was Coaxed to watch the show in front of the stage by her classmates.

And it happens that the vampire on the stage is so dazzling,Attracted her attention at that time.

Bubblegum had always been addicted to self-learning in the lab.

She asked who the person on stage played music with bass and singing.

When the classmates ridiculed Bonnie was really interested in the performance, Bonnie laughed:

“I just… like her song.”

She no longer wants to handle the classmates.

Bubblegum alone took a cup of soda in the drink bar and relied on the corner.

The spindle of the prom started.

Of course, because Bonnie didn’t even have a dancemate, it was certainly necessary to stay in the corner until the ball was over.

But maybe fate, the noise attracted Bonniebel’s attention.

She saw the long-haired vampire wearing a simple black rock t-shirt, walking and pushing away the Invitation to dance student.

Exactly, their eyes are so opposed to each other.

Marceline smiled and went straight to the bubblegum seat.

The vampire stretched out her hand and invited Bonnie with a gentle voice in the surprise of the crowd.

“Hey, would you dance with me?”

See Bonnie stunned at her, Matherine boldly took up her hand.

“Come on, it would be fun, follow me.”

To be sure, Bonniebel went through anunforgettable and happy prom.

And, after that, they also slowly get closer and closer.

“I’m curious, what Marcy was doing in the 700 years before high school?”

“Uh… strictly speaking, I was educated at home and just forgot to report applying for a curriculum planning review, so come to school to rebuild a degree.”

“Oh my glob, is so unexpected.”

They often spend time together in each other’s dormitories, Sometimes when Bonnie is studying seriously, Marceline intentionally plays a sharp voice to disturb Bonnie,But it doesn’t really make Bonnie angry.

But, in the fourth year of college, there was a little subtle difference.

Bonniebel is perfect .

Few people in the world have such an excellent qualification, It is even less likely that there are people who work as important advisers in various associations.

She loves to learn, like things like science like Marceline is not good at.

The fifth year of college was busy, Bonnie was no longer available to spend time with Marceline.

Marceline doesn’t know why, why BonnibelBubblegum no longer cares about MarcelineAbadeer.

After a day of music practice,she tries to tease bubblegum as before.

She hoped that bubblegum smiled at her joke as before, Then they can discuss the melody she just discovered today.

“Oh! Marceline! Can you not be like a jerk?Do you feel like a waste of life with you can bring any positive help to my life?

You are noisy in my ear like a terrible monster, which makes me totally incapable of focusing.”

If we could calm down and communicate well, we might not have developed like that.

However, things are still going in a bad direction.

Matherine modified the melody of the practice at that time.

In front of many strangers, she humiliated bubble gum with very damaging lyrics.

She finally remembered that the sound of bubblegum became trembling,And said, “Fine, we’re done.” Then run away.

The scene is only left to take pictures, videos, noisy ready to send social software onlookers.

After that they went through a long cold war until Marceline saw bubblegum again.。

“I’m sorry, Marceline.

I was stressful, and I thought it would be better to focus on my work.

But my mood is still a mess.

I tried it, I really tried it.

And I just hurt you again.”

See the reaction of bubblegum, Marceline was busy wiping out Bonnie’s tears with his fingers and comforting.

“Hey hey! It’s okay, don’t cry… Oh!”Bubblegum hugging Matherine, buried in the clothes sound can be heard:

“I’m sorry.”

“So… it’s okay now, right?”

“Yes…I’m OK now.”

After a few minutes, they sat on the top floor guardrail, relying on each other, looking at the campus where the sky gradually darkened.

“Hey, Marcy. I care why you still stay here? For what?”

Hear that, Marceline blushes down, and then whispered:

“Because you said you wanted to come here as a teacher after the follow-up course. I waited for you a long time.”

“… what?”

“I miss you so much, I’m… I’m sorry. Bonnie.”

“… it’s okay.”

Marceline has always rarely attended the prom as a regular student.

But this time is special, this time, They hold hands.

“You’re finally going to graduate, are you?”

“Haha, after all, there is no reason not to graduate, isn’t it?”

Marceline is happy to face the joke of bubblegum.

She never thought she could fix her relationship with Bonnie.

Everything stays, But it still changes

“Yeah, but you still have a choice here.”

“What?”

“I mean, you can come with me, don’t you?”

“I? I never thought about being a teacher. Are you sure the big trouble at school can be a teacher? I am very bad—?”

Bonnie pushed Marceline and told her to stop kidding.

And gently kissed Marceline.

“You can, I believe you.”

“Wow, Bonnie, you got bold.”

They smiled somewhat shy at each other.

“Hey, Bonnie, want to dance with me?”

“Of course, I thought you wouldn’t invite me like this anymore.”

“You think too much, I will always invite you to dance forever.”

Will happen, happening, happened

Will happen, happening, happened.

And will happen again and again,Cause you and I will always be back then.

【END】

#adventure time #marceline #princess bubblegum #bubbline

15 notes · View notes

bensk · 3 years

Text

Be curious. Be humble. Be useful.

I was invited to give the annual Taub Lecture for graduating Public Policy students at the University of Chicago, my alma mater and the department from which I graduated. This is what I came up with.

---

I am incredibly grateful and honored to be here tonight. The Public Policy program literally changed my life.

My name is Ben Samuels-Kalow, my pronouns are he/him/his. I’m a 2012 Public Policy graduate, and I will permit myself one “back in my day” comment: When I was a student here, the “Taub Lecture” were actual lectures given by Professor Taub in our Implementation class. I’ve spent the last nine years teaching in the South Bronx. For the past two years, I have served as Head of School at Creo College Prep, a public charter school that opened in 2019.

I was asked tonight to tell you a bit about my journey, and the work that I do. My objection to doing this is that there is basically nothing less interesting than listening to a white man tell you how he got somewhere, so I'll keep it brief. I grew up in New York City and went to a public high school that turned out Justice Elena Kagan, Chris Hayes, Lin-Manuel Miranda, among many others…none of whom were available tonight.

We, on this Zoom, all have one thing in common — we have been very, very close to graduating from the University of Chicago. I have never sat quite where you sit. I didn’t graduate into a pandemic. But the truth is that everyone graduates into a crisis. The periods of relative ease, the so-called “ends of history”, even the end of this pandemic, are really matters of forced perspective. This crisis isn’t over. Periods of relative peace and stability paper over chasms of structural inequality.

You went to college with the people who will write the books and go on the talk shows and coin the phrases to describe our times. You could write that book. You could go into consulting and spend six weeks at a time helping a company figure out how to maximize profits from their Trademark Chasm Expanding Products.

You could also run into the chasm.

What is the chasm?

It is the distance between potential and opportunity. It is a University on the South Side of Chicago with a student body that is 10% Black and 15% Latinx, with a faculty that is 65% white.

It is eight Black students being admitted to a top high school in New York City...in a class of 749.

What is the chasm?

The chasm is that in our neighborhood in The Bronx, where I’m standing right now, 1 in 4 students can read a book on their grade level, and only 1 in 10 will ever sit in a college class.

It is maternal mortality and COVID survival rates. The chasm is generational wealth and payday loans.

It is systemic racism and misogyny.

It is the case for activism and reparations.

In my job, the chasm is the distance between the creativity, brilliance, and wit that my students possess, and the opportunities the schools in our neighborhood provide.

In the zip code in which I grew up in New York City, the median income is $122,169. In the zip code where I have spent every day working since I graduated from UChicago, the median income is $30,349. The school where I went to 7th grade and this school where next year we will have our first 7th grade are only a 15 minute drive apart.

In my first quarter at UChicago, I joined the Neighborhood Schools Program, and immediately fell in love with working in schools. I joined NSP because a friend told me how interesting she found the work. I’d done some tutoring in high school, and had taught karate since I was 15. I applied, was accepted, and worked at Hyde Park Academy on 62nd and Stony Island in a variety of capacities from 2008 to 2012.

At the time, Hyde Park Academy had one of very few International Baccalaureate programs on the South Side, and every spring, parents would line up out the door of the school to try to get their rising 9th grader in. I worked with an incredible mentor teacher and successive classes of high school seniors whose wit, creativity, and skill would've been at home in the seminars and dorm discussions we all have participated in three blocks north of their high school.

In my work at Hyde Park Academy, I learned the first lesson of three lessons that have shaped my career as a teacher. Be curious. I had been told in Orientation that there were “borders” to the UChicago experience, lines we should not cross. I am forever grateful to the people who told me to ignore that BS. Our entire department is a testimony to ignoring that BS. We ask questions like, why did parents line up for hours to get into what was considered a “failing” high school? Why had no one asked my kids to write poetry before? Why are they more creative and better at writing than most of the kids I went to high school with, but there is only one IB class and families have to literally compete to get in? I learned as much from my job three blocks south of the University as I did in my classes at the University...which is to say, I was learning a LOT, but I had a lot more to learn.

I knew I wanted to be a teacher from my first quarter here. I did my research. The Boston Teacher Residency was the top program in the country, so I applied there. I was a 21 year old white man interested in education, so...I applied to Teach for America. In the early 2010’s, I looked like the default avatar on a Teach for America profile. It was my backup option. I was all in on Boston, and was sure, with four years working in urban schools, a stint at the Urban Education Institute, and, at the time, seven years of karate teaching under my belt, I was a shoe in.

I was rejected from both programs. Which brings me to my second lesson. Be humble. We are destined for and entitled to nothing. There is an aphorism I learned from one of my favorite podcasts, Another Round: "carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man." If you are a mediocre white man, like me, do as much as you can not to be. If you look like me, you live life on the "lowest difficulty setting." This means I need to question my gifts, contextualize my successes, and actively work against systems of oppression that perpetuate inequity.

Over the last two years, I have interviewed over 300 people to work at this school. There are a series of questions that I ask folks with backgrounds like myself:

Have you ever lived in a neighborhood that was majority people of color?

Have you ever worked on a team that was majority people of color?

Have you ever worked for a boss/supervisor/leader who was a person of color?

The vast majority of white folks, myself at 21 included, could not answer “yes” to these three questions. This is disappointing, but I've also lived and worked in two of the most segregated cities on this continent, so it is not surprising. By the time I sat where you’re sitting now, I had learned a lot about education policy and sociology. I'd taken every class that Chad offered at the time. I'd worked at UEI, I'd worked in a South Side high school for four years, and I still thought I was entitled to something. Unlearning doesn't usually happen in a moment, and I certainly didn't realize it at the time, but these rejections were the best thing that has happened to me in my growth as a human.

I moved back home to New York, was accepted to my last-choice teaching program, and started teaching at MS 223: The Laboratory School of Finance & Technology. I ended up teaching there for 5 years. I had incredible mentors, met some of my best friends, started a Computer Science program that’s used as a model at hundreds of schools across New York City…and most importantly, while making copies for Summer School in July of 2015, I met my wife.

All this to say — if you aren’t 100% convinced that what you’re doing next year is Your Thing, keep an open mind…and make frequent stops in the copy room.

I learned that teaching was My Thing. I didn't want to do ed policy research. I got to set education policy, conduct case studies, key informant interviews, run statistical analysis…with 12 year olds. This was the thing I couldn’t stop talking about, reading about, learning about. I really and truly did not care about the “UChicago voices” of my parents and my friends who kept asking what I was going to do next. My answer: teach.

If you look like me, and you teach Computer Science, there are opportunities that come flying your way. I was offered jobs with more prestige, jobs with more pay, jobs far away from the South Bronx. I was offered jobs I would have loved. But I’d learned a third lesson: be useful. If you have a degree from this place, people will always ask you what the next promotion or job is. They will ask "what's next for you" and they will mean it with respect and admiration.

Here’s the thing: teaching was what’s next. “But don’t you want to work in policy?” Teaching is a political act. It is hands-on activism, it is community organizing, it is high-tech optimistic problem-solving and low-tech relationship building. It is the reason we have the privilege of choosing a career, and it is a career worth choosing.

I had internalized what I like to call the Dumbledore Principle: “I had learned that I was not to be trusted with power.” This meant unlearning the very UChicago idea that if you were smart and if you think and talk like we are trained to think and talk at this place, you should be in charge. The best things in my life have come from unlearning that. Learning from mentors to never speak the way I was praised for in a seminar. Learning from veteran teachers how to be a warm demander who was my authentic best self...and more importantly brought out the authentic best self in my students. Being useful isn't the same thing as being in charge…and that is ok.

I believe this deeply. Which is why, when I was offered the opportunity to design and open a school, my first thought was absolutely the hell no. I said to my wife: “I’m a teacher. Dumbledore Principle — we’re supposed to teach, make our classrooms safe and wonderful for our kids.”

I also knew that teaching kids to code wasn’t worth a damn if they couldn’t read and write with conviction, so I started looking for schools that did both — treated kids like brilliant creatives who should learn to create the future AND met them where they were with rigorous coursework that closed opportunity gaps. In our neighborhood, there were schools that did the latter, that got incredible results for kids. Then there was my school, where kids learned eight programming languages before they graduated, but at which only 40% of our kids could read.

We were lauded for this, by the way. 40% was twice the average in our district. We were praised for the Computer Science — the mayor of New York and the CEO of Microsoft visited and met with my students. It felt great. I wasn’t convinced it was useful.

Kids in the neighborhood where I grew up didn’t have to choose between a school that was interesting and a school that equipped them with the knowledge and skills to pursue their own interests in college and beyond. Why did our students have to choose? I delivered this stressed-out existential monologue to my wife that boiled down to this: every kid deserves a school where they were always safe, and never bored. We weren’t working at a school like that. I was being offered a chance to design one. But…Dumbledore principle.

My wife took it all in, looked at me, and said: “You idiot. Dumbledore RAN a school.”

Friends, you deserve a partner like this.

The road to opening Creo College Prep, and the last two years of leading our school as we opened, closed, opened online, finished our first year, moved buildings, opened online again, opened in-person (kind of) and now head into our third year, has reinforced my lessons from teaching — be curious, be humble, be useful. These lessons are about both learning and unlearning. A white guy doing Teach for America at 21 is a stereotype. A white guy starting a charter school is a stereotype with significant capital, wading into complicated political and pedagogical waters. The lessons I learn opening a school and the unlearning I must do to be worthy of the work are not destinations, they are journeys.

Be curious

I didn’t just open a school. Schools are communities, they are institutions, and they are bureaucracies. If you work very, very hard, and with the right people, they become engines that turn coffee and human potential into joy and intellectual thriving capable of altering the trajectory of a child’s life.

First you have to find the right people. I joined a school design fellowship, spent a year visiting 50 high-performing schools across the country, recruited a founding board of smart, committed people who hold me accountable, and spent time in my community learning from families what they wanted in a school. There is studying public policy, and then there is attending Community Board meetings and Community Education Council Meetings, and standing outside of the Parkchester Macy's handing out flyers and getting petition signatures at Christmastime next to the mall Santa.

I observed in schools while writing my BA, and as a teacher, but it was in this fellowship that I learned to “thin slice,” a term we borrowed from psychology that refers to observing a small interaction and finding patterns about the emotions and values of people. In a school, it means observing small but crucial moments — how does arrival work, how are students called on, how do they ask for help in a classroom, how do they enter and leave spaces, how do they move through the hallways, where and how do teachers get their work done — and gleaning what a school values, and how that translates into impact for kids. Here’s how I look at schools:

Does every adult have an unwavering belief that students can, must, and will learn at the highest level?

Do they have realistic and urgent plans for getting every kid there? Are these beliefs and plans clear and held by kids?

Are all teachers strategic, valorizing planning and intellectual nerdery over control or power?

Is the curriculum worthy of the kids?

Can kids explain why the school does things they way they do? Can staff? Can the leader?

If I'm in the middle of teaching and I need a pen or a marker, what do I do? Is that clear?

What’s the attendance rate? How do we follow up on kids who aren’t here?

How organized and thoughtful are the physical and digital spaces?

Are kids seen by their teachers? Are their names pronounced correctly? Do their teachers look like them? Do they make them laugh, think, and revise their answers?

Would I want to work here? Would I send my own kids here?

Be humble

I learned that there are really two distinct organizations that we call “school.” One is an accumulation of talent (student and staff) that happens to be in the same place at the same time, operating on largely the same schedule.

These were the schools I attended. These are schools you got to go to if you got lucky and you were born in a zip code with high income and high opportunity. These are schools where you had teachers who were intellectually curious, and classmates whose learning deficits could be papered over by social capital…and sometimes, straight up capital.

“Accumulation of talent” also describes the schools I worked at. These were schools where if you got lucky and you were extraordinary in your intelligence, determination, support network, and teachers who’d decided to believe in you, you became one of the stories we told. “She got into Cornell.” “That whole English class got into four year colleges.”

Most schools in this country, it turns out, are run like this. I knew all about local control and the limits of federal standards on education and the battles over teacher evaluations and so much other helpful and important context I learned in my PBPL classes. But when thin-slicing a kindergarten classroom in Nashville on my first school visit of the Fellowship, I saw a whole other possibility of what “school” can be.

School can be a special place organized towards a single purpose. One team, one mission. Where the work kids do in one class directly connects to the next, and builds on the prior year. Where kids are treated like the important people they are and the important people they will be, where students and staff hold each other to a high bar, where there is rigor and joy. A place where staff train together so that instead of separate classrooms telling separate stories about how to achieve, there is one coherent language that gives kids the thing they crave and deserve above all else: consistency.

We get up every morning to build a school like that. It’s why my team starts staff training a month before the first day of school. It’s why we practice teaching our lessons so that we don’t waste a moment of our kids’ time. It’s why everyone at our school has a coach, including me, so we can be a better teacher tomorrow than we were today. It’s why we plan engaging, culturally responsive, relevant lessons. It’s how we keep a simple, crucial promise to every family: at this school, you will always be safe, and you will never be bored.

Be useful

Statistically speaking, it is not out of the realm of possibility that several of you will one day be in a position to make big sweeping policy changes. You will have the power to not only write position papers, but to Make Big Plans. I will be rooting for you, but I hope that you won’t pursue Big Plans for the sake of Big Plans.

The architect who designed the Midway reportedly said "make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood." I had that quoted to me in several lectures at this school, and you know what?

It’s bullshit.

I am asking you not to care about scale. Good policy isn’t about scale, it’s about implementation, and implementation requires the right people on the ground. Implementation can scale. The right people cannot. We can Make Big Plans, but every 6th grade math class still needs an excellent math teacher. That's a job worth doing. I could dream about starting 20 schools, but every school needs a leader. That’s a job worth doing. Places like UChicago teach us to ask "what's next" for our own advancement, to do this now so we can get to that later. I learned to ask "what's next" to be as useful as possible to as many kids as I have in front of me.

I hold these two thoughts in my mind:

The educational realities of the South Bronx have a lot more to do with where highways were built in our neighborhood than with No Child Left Behind or charter schools, and require comprehensive policy change that address not only educational inequity, but environmental justice, and systemic racism.

The most useful policy changes I can make right now are to finalize the schedule for our staff work days that start on June 21, get feedback on next year’s calendar from families, and finish hiring the teachers our kids deserve.

I will follow the policy debates of #1 with great interest, but I know where I can be useful, and I’ll wake up tomorrow excited to make another draft of the calendar. I hope you get to work on making your Small Plans, and I will leave you with the secret — or at least the way that worked for me:

Find yourself people who are smarter than you and who disagree with you. Find problems you cannot shut up or stop thinking about. Do what you can’t shut up about with intellect and kindness. Use the privilege and opportunity that we have because we went to this school to make sure that opportunity for others does not require privilege. Run into the chasm.

Be curious, be humble, be useful.

Thank you.

5 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #354

“swimming through the void, we hear the word / we lose ourselves, but we find it all”

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? I never do. My hair is naturally pretty oily, and conditioner just adds oil to it. Do you prefer light or dark jeans? Dark. I never liked light-hued jeans. When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen? I almost always just listen. Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yes. Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person? My first "real" boyfriend. I always do to varying degrees. How many cars are parked at your house right now? Just one. Do you have any Italian ancestry? No. Do you prefer water to be ice cold or at room temperature? The colder, the absolute better. I can barely stomach drinking water that isn't cold, like literally. Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak? No. Do you know anyone who has gone missing? If so, were they ever found? I don't think so, anyway. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? A certain hot sauce on the wings I used to get at Buffalo Wild Wings. It was close to the top of their little heat rating thing. It made me feel awful, and yet I enjoyed it still?? I think it was an adrenaline thing. I only get medium sauce now; I'm more interested in enjoying my food than feeling like I'm eating fire. Do you need to talk to someone? I'm ready for my therapy appointment honestly, but it's not 'til the start of June. Mom and I both don't want to go through the process of finding a new one, so I've chosen to just suck it up and wait. Is something confusing you at the moment? I'm always confused with myself and my feelings. When was the last time you had a real deep chat? Real deep, I'm sure that would've been during PHP. Who did you last see on webcam? My former group therapist. I miss him a lot and really wish he could treat me outside of the program, but he doesn't do that. :/ What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)? Doris, Martha, Crowley, Little Dot, Jane Marie, Buster, Beesly, Winter, and I believe only one of the fish is named: Raisha. Have you ever taken a picture while laying in the grass? No. Who’s your favorite Disney character? Dory, probably. Have you ever deliberately tried to get someone drunk? What the fuck, no. When was the last time you used a pay phone and who were you calling? I've never used one. Do you like being kissed on the neck? Whoa now buddy, we better be kind of serious by then for you to do that because it doesn't end "well" lmao. Have you ever had sex with someone you weren’t dating (but had feelings for) in the hopes that they would ask you out later? I almost deleted this question because I didn't want to answer it, but I try to leave more unique ones in, so... whatever. I haven't. But I would for "somebody." What’s the most you would be willing to spend on a good bra? Ugh, my relationship with bras is a hellish one because NONE FUCKING FIT ME CORRECTLY. Mom's tried so, so many places, so many different stores online and in-person, and even if the bra fits in the front, it won't go around my back comfortably. I guess my body is shaped weird, I don't fucking know, because I have literally ZERO bras that don't aggravate me. At some point, I'm going to some woman Mom knows who can size me properly and therefore buy some that don't piss me off. All that to say I'd actually pay more than the usual, but not a ridiculous price. Do you have any of your teachers’ personal cell phone numbers saved in your contacts list? My old Physical Science teacher, who is actually now a very close family friend and our landlord, is in my phone. Do you ever stalk peoples’ personal blogs, even if you don’t know them very well? No. What’s one thing about today’s generation that you just can’t stand? How ungrateful they can be. Be honest: how do you feel about abortion? I am pro-choice. Is there anyone you currently want to reach out to? There's a lot of people, actually. Old friends I miss. What is your favorite piece of art you own? It... sounds cocky, but it's probably the drawing I did in high school of Pyramid Head and the Halo of the Sun intertwined. I worked my fucking ass off and I'm extremely proud of it. What’s the one thing you apologized for this month? Hm. Probably just something minor, like bumping into Mom or something when passing her. My favorite color is ______? Pink, specifically pastel pink. I wish I had _____? A job. What did you buy today? Nothing. What has challenged your morals? Life, my dude. Live and learn. What made you pick up the last book you started reading? It's the sequel to the last book I read. What about your life concerns you the most? Concerns me, my physical health, especially just how weak my legs are. I'm terrified of them continuing to deteriorate. What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend? I cannot fucking stand the misuse of the word "retarded." Like just keep your damn mouth sewn shut if you have the audacity to say things like "hurr hurr this driver is retarded." ANY mental illness/condition is NOT to be mocked. Onto the next question, I'd say I'm more towards difficult to offend. It really depends on the topic. What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? I re-watched Fullmetal Alchemist w/ Sara. We're working on Avatar: The Last Airbender too, but I won't resume watching it again until we can do it together. What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same? Well, I weigh a lot more. .-. I gained back almost all the weight I shed since quarantine started, and I'm forever fucking furious about it. I'm the same in most other ways. If you could learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost, what kind of classes would you take? Uhhhhh meerkat behavior? Idk. Name a song you’ve listened to today? I've got Halocene, Lauren Babic, and Violet Orlandi's cover of "Aerials" by System of a Down on loop right now. It's fucking gorgeous and so mesmerizing. When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard? We had a small playhouse with swings and a slide. Is your mall nice? GOD no. You better accept the possibility of getting shot before you walk in there. There's nothing that cool at all there. Do you have a Sonic near you? If so, what’s your favorite drink from there? Yeah. I love the strawberry slushy, and the Reese's Blast thing if KILLER. Will you be voting in the presidential elections next time around? Yes. How do you feel about chocolate-covered strawberries? GOOD. STUFF. Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? I think so. Do you hate the last guy you had a thing with? No, he's my closest guy friend. To whom did you last give the finger? Probably some idiot that ran a red light. I'm sure it happened in the car, whenever it happened What was the last musical instrument played in your presence? I've got no clue. Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? No, I hate the texture difference. And just sprinkles in general. Honestly, have you ever crashed a party before? No. Do you know how to do the moon walk? No. Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice? Yeah, but I beg to differ. Onion rings or french fries? French fries. I'm not a big fan of the other. Has anybody ever described you as a heart breaker? Nope. Has anybody ever told you that you talk too fast? When I'm excited, yes, it happens sometimes. Who is the best cook that you know? Uhhhhh idk. Which meal throughout the day do you skip the most? I don't really skip meals. What’s the largest amount that you can juggle at one time? I can’t juggle at all. What was your favorite thing to go on at the playground as a kid? Swings. I'd dash to those at recess to try to actually get one. Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much? All I know is six pounds, no clue on the ounces. Which aspect of your daily routine takes the most time? What do you do? Sitting my ass at the computer, really... I don't exactly do much. Do you enjoy buying gifts for others, or could you do without this? It feels sucky of me considering whenever I do get someone a gift, it's because Mom is letting me use her money with me being without an income, BUT I still do LOVE the process of thinking of something meaningful for those important to me and hopefully seeing them love whatever I got them. I cannot wait until I actually can do that regularly. What is one thing you are expected to do, if anything? Take care of my pets. How do you tend to view driving? Monotonous or entertaining? I hate driving because you're in a speeding box of death, man. I do really want to start working towards my license though; I've long since reached the "enough is enough" point. But first I need new glasses so I can actually see five feet in front of me. Do you enjoy talking about music with others? Yeah! Is acting something you enjoy? No. I'm too awkward about it. When do you feel most accomplished? When I finish a big art pierce. Do you think Manwich is amazing or completely gross? I like 'em. Just messy, which I'm not a fan of. How many best friends do you have? One. Are you a smoker, drinker, pothead or none of the above? None of the above. If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced? I don't remember exactly, but I was a kid. Do you own any exercise machines? No. I wish. On Facebook, do you have people listed as your siblings who aren’t really your siblings? Nah, but I used to do that. Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait? Painted, but only because it was a school assignment. Who was your last voicemail from? I don't get voicemails because mine isn't even set up. Have you ever been falsely accused of something serious? No. Did you ever set up a lemonade stand when you were a kid? No. When was the last time you spoke to someone in a different language? Not since I was taking a test in high school for my German course. My teacher was a Germany native, so she was a total pro and fun to learn from. Have you ever received an anonymous gift? No. Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? No. That's always sounded miserable to me. When were you the saddest in your life? 2016 was fucking miserable. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? I don't know if it's abusive, but it's toxic and dysfunctional as HELL. I don't know WHY she keeps going back to him, I feel awful for the woman. I'm definitely not, 'cuz I wouldn't tolerate that shit for half a second. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? They've both moved out by now. Have you ever gotten searched by the cops? Yes, as a safety protocol with mental illness stuff. Do you like fried rice? Yes. What was the last thing you drank? Would you believe me if I told you I have water right now?

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''aerials'' by system of a down

3 notes · View notes

first-son-of-finwe · 4 years

Text

So this is my “leaving the fold” essay, which I mentioned some time ago. I wrote this mostly for myself because writing things down always helps me make sense of them, but quite a few people expressed interest in it, so here it is.

I was raised as quite a strict Orthodox Christian, and the religion is a huge part of my mum’s life. This is mostly my experience of its ideas and processes, and how and why I ultimately decided to leave. It’s a bit rambling, all over the place and very long, but I kinda wanted to post it somewhere, so 🤷

TW for mentions of abortion, alcoholism and general conflict.

When I was twelve or thirteen, my parents and I set off on one of our regular trips to Russia. We used to do this every year before time and money became restricted, and one of our compulsory stops was always a large, sprawling monastery on the outskirts of the city of Nizhny Novgorod.

It’s a place of smiling nuns but very strict rules, where God forms a part of every sentence and church is mandatory for both mornings and evenings. It’s a place of communal meals, harvesting vegetables and milking cows, ringing bells, and lots and lots of praying. For me, it was a taste of pure rural life. I loved running through the fields, swimming in the pond and helping out with the manual tasks of running a communal settlement. I gasped in delight when I saw the lone horse in the field. Deep down I was never meant to be a city kid, and being at the monastery fuelled my dream of living the simple life.

But the fact that we were there purely for religious reasons? That was only an afterthought. An obligatory thing I had to go along with, because the adults expected it. Perhaps I tried to feel the same spirituality they seemed to experience, but I never quite got there.

I put on the headscarf, held the candle, wrote the names of my loved ones on prayer notes for the living. I bowed to the icons, made the sign of the cross when everyone else did. But I never truly connected.

One year on the day of a particularly significant celebration, a huge icon was carried over a horde of kneeling worshippers, and my mum told me to kneel down and pray for my dad to recover from his alcoholism. And so I did.

This is something I’d been praying for for a long time. It’s something I was told to pray for at every holy site, and before every relic. And no, he’s never quit drinking.

But I already knew that he wouldn’t, even as I knelt, closed my eyes and begged whichever saint was on that icon to help my dad quit drinking. I simply knew that it didn’t work that way.

I knew it the same way I knew that Santa wasn’t real. Every child seems to have experienced a shock-horror moment upon learning that they’d been deceived, but I recognised him for what he was right from the start - a story. For someone who’s always thrown themselves wholeheartedly into stories and fantasy, I’ve always had a very clear distinction between fact and fiction - though I’ve also not been so close-minded as to think that there isn’t a grey area in between.

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I don’t think I ever truly believed in their version of what was supposed to be happening.

But I think my moving away from Orthodoxy truly began the day I heard my mum on the phone to her friend, who was at the beginning of a difficult pregnancy and was considering an abortion. She and her husband were on different pages with regards to this, though I don’t quite remember who wanted what. My mother’s advice was this: “Well you should really listen to your husband, because you know that a husband’s word is God’s word.”

Even being the believer that I was then, my immediate reaction was complete shock, followed by a thought process that went something like “Are you joking?? SERIOUSLY?”

And of course, it was hard not to think of my own father in his worst moments of drunkenness. So it seems “God’s word” is actually a whole lot of slurred, barely comprehensible nonsense occasionally sprinkled with some insults. That’s really the logic we’re going with here? And beyond that, how can you hand such a deeply personal decision to someone else??

When I went away to university for three years and spent considerable chunks of time away from my mother’s influence, my skepticism only deepened with every day. I couldn’t reconcile the science-driven environment I saw around me with the ideas being propounded in church. Sincerely believing in the Adam and Eve story, in this day and age? It didn’t compute.

Having said that, I would certainly not call myself an atheist even now. I think it is just as presumptuous to assume your absolute knowledge of the infinite universe and declare it contains nothing, as it is to declare that your religion is the only correct one. I find many things about the Christian God to be extremely convenient (just so happens to be an old white bearded man, oh fancy that), but I am certainly not convinced that there are no intelligent forces in the world, whatever shape they take. We are simply not in a position to know these things, and I’m okay with that.

In turn, I treat anyone who claims to know them with intense suspicion.

Ultimately, leaving Orthodox Christianity was a long and painful process (I say ‘was’ in the past tense, but the truth is that it is still ongoing) filled with guilt, second-guessing, deliberate habit breaking and an extremely distressed and persistent mother. But my reasons for it boil down to four key things.

Their ideas did not match my ideas. I will never believe that women are obliged to be submissive to men. I will never believe that being gay (or in any way not straight) is a sin. I will never believe that Eastern Orthodoxy is the one true faith among all the other hundreds and thousands of faiths that exist on this planet. Living with your partner without being married is not a sin. Eating some chicken on a lent day is not a sin. A woman on her period is not “unclean.” Their ideas of good and bad, right and wrong seemed so incredibly outdated and arbitrary that it became hard to take anything they said seriously. And I felt so uncomfortable standing there, surrounded by people who I knew believed in all of this wholeheartedly.

Despite the religion branding itself as ‘Christian’, I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of the priests or worshippers talk about helping others. It is not on the agenda. People walk into church and think that because they’ve said their prayers, abstained from meat and dairy and then said their prayers some more, they’re now good people. But what have they done to make anyone’s life better? Who have they helped? Who have they listened to, cared for, understood? It’s not about that. It’s about making yourself feel good because you recited the Lord’s Prayer before eating your lunch.

The process of participating is extremely rigid, and trying to remember all those rules and traditions is honestly just stressful. Which hand do I kiss? How many times do I have to make the sign of the cross before approaching that super special icon? Do I have to touch the floor, or is that optional? Oh, everyone is kneeling...I guess I should kneel too. Once, I accidentally addressed the Archbishop as ‘Father’ and got a slew of disapproving looks from everyone around me. I think perhaps people find a certain kind of comfort and stability in routine, but having one imposed on you when you’re constantly unsure of the rules is not a pleasant experience.

Sometimes there is a very thin line between a religion and a cult, and Orthodoxy is toeing it a little too closely for comfort. I’ve seen it overpower people’s rational thinking and tap into their most powerful emotions in a way that’s honestly quite frightening.

The first step to leaving was progressively going to church less and less. I’d only ever really gone because my mum demanded it, but now, I put up a bit more resistance. I got screamed and yelled and cried at, and at first, of course I gave in. But little by little, I began to get the message across that I was simply not interested anymore.

Then, I deliberately made the choice to break certain habits. We always faced a row of icons on the wall and made a sign of the cross before leaving the house, and coming back in. It was such an ingrained habit that I did it automatically, and for the first few months, I had to physically catch myself in order to stop. That came with its own sense of guilt and hesitancy, and with the feeling that hey, now God is mad at you - hope a brick doesn’t fall on your head when you’re out there without his blessing.

The next step was removing the cross I’d worn around my neck ever since I’d been christened as a baby. Even now I can’t not wear something around my neck, so I have a little key necklace there in its place. Having a bare neck just looks too weird to me.

That cross came off and went back on at least three times. Each time I’d be persuaded, guilted, given the simple but effective phrase of “just do it for me.” I’ve removed it for what I hope will be the last time, and “just do it for me” won’t cut it anymore. If I converted to Islam tomorrow, would it be okay for me to ask someone to wear a hijab “for me”, even though they don’t share my faith? No, it wouldn’t. Religion and expression of religion is a personal choice, and not something you can strong-arm your adult children into.

Now, I’m in a fairly comfortable place where I’ve shed most of that initial guilt and am happy with my choices. I’ve even been back into church a couple of times just to meet a family member, only catching the end of the service - and even then, I’ve been reminded of exactly why I left. My mindset is simply too far removed to find any spiritual value in Orthodoxy.

Does my mother still try to get me into church? Yes. Are the attempts extremely mild and infrequent, compared to what they used to be? Yes. On one hand, I’d like to have a deep conversation with her and explain all the reasons why I have no interest in the religion anymore, but on the other hand, I know it’ll likely make her extremely upset.

Perhaps it’s better to just let it be.

#out of silmarils #religion #personal

16 notes · View notes

trying-write-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Shouji Mezo X Reader part 57 Remember

That couldn’t have been her. She said her full name to them. It was her no doubt about it, and she was real. It was terrifying to see her in the flesh. To have so much history with her but she had zero history with him. His phone rang again and he answered.

“Shouji, I should have told you…” Deku started. “She didn’t recognize me either.”

“Aizawa was right about keeping anyone from looking for her. It just was too much.” Shouji said.”Why didn’t you tell me she was there?”

“I thought if I did, you wouldn’t come.”

He was right, he’d avoid that university like the plague. Shouji does have a tender curiosity for Y/n’s well being but he didn’t want to meet a Y/n that didn’t remember him and he wasn’t going to stalk her.

“I remember how happy you two were when you guys were together. She did a lot of questionable things, but you both seemed to really care for each other and I just thought if you two met again, you would make each other happy again, like that.” Midoriya explained.

“Midoriya, she may be an entirely new person now.” Shouji said, but then he made his decision. “I’ll stay on the security squad.”

“What! Really?”

“It would be awful if she got hurt again.” Shouji said. “But I’ll try and protect everyone at that gala.”

“Thank you Shouji!”

Shouji hung up and looked back at the hospital selfie they took when they had their official hospital date. There was probably never going to be a date like that again. Well he could only hope that he wouldn’t have a hospital date after his partner got burned to a crisp.

It was just his horror to talk to Y/n again, knowing he didn’t share the same history. He was a stranger to her. She held her hand out like it was their first meeting. It was like his insides were being torn from within, and he had to pretend it was nothing.

Shouji called the club for a more in depth tour, where attacks could hide, sources of power, the whole nine yards. The president of the club said he would give the tour.

Shouji got there and was greeted by the president of the club. He explained he believes an opposing club could be the culprit.

“Why would another club be out for this one?” Shouji asked.

“Ever since (last name) was made my Vice President, she’s been able to bring in more club members with her personality. A lot of members were drawn to our club because of her outgoingness and that she could persuade freshmen at orientation why we were the best club. Because of this other clubs have suffered not having any new members, which means lack of funding for them and more for us.” The president explained. “I didn’t think I’d be able to save our dying club, but when Y/n joined we made it to nationals.”

Shouji wanted to avoid this topic. He was glad Y/n was ambitious and found some direction in her life. She was doing amazing like she always was going to be. No, what he worried about was hearing about the possibility of a love interest.

“She sounds amazing.” Shouji told the president.

“She intimidated you didn’t she?” The president asked. “She scared the hell out of me when we first met. She barked out orders from day one on how to improve our club.”

“Do you think the attacker is going to be after her specifically?” Shouji asked.

“I never really thought about it. I don’t know if they know (last name) is the reason for our club’s sudden popularity. You would think because she’s so loud.”

“It’s only a guess, but she could be the main target.” Shouji said.

“Should I tell her? I don’t want to ruin her big night making her feel responsible for the threats.” The president asked. “But I also want her to be aware…”

“We probably should.” Though they were technically strangers now, he didn’t want her living in the dark. “But it is only a theory. I could be wrong.” Shouji told them.

“Here’s our club- and speak of the devil.” The president said as they opened the doors.

Y/n was in the lab, with a machine and computer beside her. She was conducting some sort of trial, that Shouji did not know. She was in a white lab coat, recording data. She turned to them as she heard the doors opened revealing she was wearing safety glasses.

“Oh hey, showing our security around?” Y/n asked the president.

“Yes, and what are you doing here? All our projects have been wrapped up for the moment.”

“Doing, my own projects. You get me, Mr. Tentacole, just because the assignment is complete, there is always more work to be done!” She sang. “You have your security missions, but you also catch bad guys!” she twirled in the lad.

“Please stop.” The president sighed. “Tentacole thinks you may be a target of the threats.”

“Me?” Y/n was surprised. “What did I do?” she got a little angry.

“It’s only a theory, but with the information we gathered we think another club suffered from lack of recruitment-” Shouji tried to explain.

“Oh because people wanted to hang out with me because I am one of the best scientists at this school, that I should get hurt and have my club’s work ruined all for something so childish!” She yelled.

“It’s only a hypothesis L/n, no one said it’s your fault we’re being targeted at the gala.”

“Not only are we successful in our technical skills, and our decision making, but because we also have social skills, covering all our bases for talents a good club needs, I’m to blame because I excel at all three, I feel like.” She explained. “It just hurts that someone feels so intimidated by me. They want to crush my beautiful success, after everything I've been through.”

The president rolled his eyes, but Shouji’s interest piqued. Did she remember?

“If Deku or Tentacole agree to be your body guard or something will you settle down?” The president asked.

“No! I must find the darkness that hides behind cut up magazine threats, and strangle them with my bare hands because I control my own fate, success, destiny-” She was going on.

Was she really the same Y/n! It really seemed like it.

“Its illegal to strangle someone.” The president told her.

“I have proof they were threatening me! Tentacole just a little strangle? You would understand right?” Y/n begged.

Her (colored) eyes were wide as she pleaded with everything in her heart to be allowed to beat the crap out of her attacker. Shouji turned his gaze away, fearing he might blow his cover of trying to only be the pro hero of security for this event, not a foggy memory.

“It’s only a theory you may be the target.” Shouji told her.

“Well that’s not a no.” She said.

Charming as ever. Voice as smooth as silk, and her soul always felt like she was on victory road. Except that short time she was at UA. The president sighed in annoyance at his extroverted counterpart that was able to fluster a pro-hero, especially one that is not known for being emotional. Being close with his vice president, he always saw things going easy for Y/n, she could charm just about any professor or sponsor, and ten minutes later get hammered with the sports teams, and never face any social consequences. But as he learned more about his counterpart, he saw that Y/n had a troubled past, that she was trying to overcome. With all his knowledge, he had to believe this cruise style life came from something science couldn’t explain, that there was balance trying to be restored.

“Well, I’ll be showing Tentacole the hall we’ll be in for the gala. We’ll leave you to your fun.” The president said taking Shouji out of the lab.

They began walking across campus to get to the fancy hall that the university uses to host their most elegant dinner parties.

“I told you she is very intimidating like a snake!” The president huffed. “You just have to be firm with your no’s with her, because she will choke someone and I don’t know how the hero stuff works, but I can assume you can get in trouble.”

“You think she’ll choke someone?” Shouji asked.

“I’ve seen it! It starts out all cute, or she’s flinging insults, and she gives a warning and goes through with it, every single time.” The president whined. “It was bad when the dean’s son liked her, because he didn’t know what the word no meant, let alone threats. She beat him with a chair, and she almost got expelled, but she was able to convince the sexual harassment case pretty far, and expose the dean for nepotism. I thought I was going to have to dissolve the club, and she turned it around.”

It all did sound like Y/n. She was still the same Y/n.

“She sounds pretty tough.” Shouji commented.

“It’s all in the element of surprise, or thats what I first thought. No one expected a physics major to ever go insane like her. But then when the rumors spread, people started challenging her, and she could whoop ass. She doesn’t remember, but I bet she had some martial arts training.”

“Why wouldn’t she remember that?”

The president realized they spoke too much.

“Keep this to yourself, but before L/n came to this university, she suffered from amnesia. The university almost didn’t accept her, but she took so many exams to prove she belonged. The martial arts is probably a muscle memory rather than a part of the brain that was affected.” The president said. “I felt bad because I also tried to find a way to deny her entry in the club, but she fought tooth and nail.”

So it all was true, she forgot them, there was no doubt, but knowing things were still difficult after losing her memories just made him ache. She was kept away from UA hoping to lessen the possible pain of remembering, but there were new obstacles always trying to stop her.

“That sounds awful.” Shouji said.

“I just assumed the school was giving her everything on a silver platter, and I wanted no part of it. Turns out I was part of one of her fights to belong in a space she is probably above.”

That night, Shouji decided to google Y/n. No social media, but achievements from school newspapers. With his pro hero perks, he was able to find the case of Y/n vs the dean’s son for assault and sexual harassment. There was no lie, chair and all. He then looked up the dean’s son, and found out that right after the case, he got married, which recently his wife committed suicide. Apparently she wanted to legally separate, but there was no suicide note found. That man may have not stopped his reign of terror, but at least Y/n was able to put some fear in him.

#shoji mezo #mezo shoji #Shouji Mezou #bnha shoji #shouji mezo #Mezo x reader #shoji x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #series #xreader

7 notes · View notes

recentanimenews · 3 years

Text

INTERVIEW: Jeff Trammell Speaks on Craig of the Creek and its Anime Influences

In celebration of Black History Month, Crunchyroll is releasing interviews with prominent Black figures across the anime world! Stay tuned for more announced features, or donate to Black Girls Code, which educates young girls of color to encourage careers in computer science and technology!

Anime has had and continues to have a huge impact across the globe, and that impact can be found more and more in Western animation! Kids who watched anime on Toonami are growing up and creating series of their own that take with them that seed of affection for the medium. One such creator is Jeffrey Trammell, the head writer of Cartoon Network's Craig of the Creek. Cameron Trentalange, our Associate Manager of Social Video, was lucky enough to talk with Jeff about his work on the series, his love of anime, and how the two are intertwined. See the video interview below, followed by a complete and uncut transcription of the full interview!

youtube

Crunchyroll: Thank you for taking time to meet with us. We’re really excited to be chatting with you today. To get things started, if you could just introduce yourself to our audience, your name and what it is that you do.

Jeffrey Trammell: My name is Jeff Trammell and I am the head writer, as well as a voice actor, on Craig of the Creek.

How has anime influenced or inspired your work?

How hasn't anime influenced my work? It’s been such a big part of everything we do. Everything I do as a writer … We're constantly thinking back to the storytelling, the kind of one arc, one-off episodes, as well as arc-long stories ... it’s really allowed us to use anime as a bit of a blueprint for the stuff we wanna do on Craig. Anime is a big part of the show. A lot of people on the crew grew up watching things like Dragon Ball and Sailor Moon and Evangelion. Samurai Champloo gets brought up a lot, too. So, any chance that we can get to kinda pay homage to those classic shows as well as the other stuff we’re into, we kinda jump at the chance to do.

via Cartoon Network

That’s awesome. Are there any other specific elements that reflect your experience with anime in Craig of the Creek or your other works? I know the Elders of the Creek seem to be very pulled from people you might meet in the fandom.

I would say I'm a bit more of a casual fan. There's people on the crew that are certainly closer to the Elders of the Creek. I'm more like Craig in that I have my own certain fandoms that I'm into. But yeah, anime is such a big part of the show in the weirdest ways — every episode has something we're sneaking in. Our crew early on would meet to do anime nights, so we would watch The Castle of Cagliostro or Totoro ... stuff like that. It's very ingrained in our crew.

That’s awesome. That sounds like a super fun environment to be a part of.

It’s really great when your workday ends and you’re just hanging out watching anime and playing D&D. Like there’s no complaints on our end.

Craig of the Creek often dips its toes into referencing anime, whether it's a background gag or, as you mentioned, an entire episode-long narrative like "Bring Out Your Beast." It sounds like, as a community, you and the team are largely inspired by anime. Was that kind of a coincidence that everyone was into anime or was that intentional in the structuring of the team?

Our crew consists of a lot of younger writers and creators, so naturally the stuff we grew up watching included so much anime and the stuff aired on Toonami. Even the co-creators, Matt Burnett and Ben Levin are like, really big into this stuff. You go to their office and there's like the entire Evangelion set, or all of Dragon Ball. I think they really created a show full of people who they wanted to be around, who were all going to tell really fun stories. I think it just happened that anime was such a big part of everyone's life on the show.

It’s kind of amazing to see how much anime has influenced so many people throughout the industry. You mentioned that you guys would do different movie nights for watching anime. Do you have any specific anecdotes or moments from working with the teams where you intentionally wrote an anime reference into the script and someone pointed it out later, or maybe an animator just added something entirely without it even being in the script? Are they any fun little kind of instances like that?

Yes. There’s a lot of instances where I’ll write something in the script and then at the boarding stage, the boarders would take it so far out. We did an episode where the Elders get trapped under Elder Rock and there's a bit about them having a very cool replica shovel from an anime called Shovelmaster Gorobi Q that I put in there. Immediately, it just became this whole other thing where the basis of the show was that this person's soul is trapped in the shovel, so if you use it, you can tap into their spirit. One of the Elders is in love with the character who inhabits the shovel ... it's wild! I never expected that whole story to come out of this one line I wrote.

via Cartoon Network

That's incredible. One of my favorite little background gags is one of the posters for a show called Sadboy Pilotgeddon.

Yes.

Was that written into the script, or was it an element someone else wrote in?

That was our storyboard artist Ashley Tahilan who is usually the impetus for those crazy moments in the show. She put in Sadboy Pilotgeddon really early on, and I think she's also the reason Shovelmaster Gorobi Q became the absurd thing that it is.

I love it. In one of the very early episodes, there was a character who was holding up a volume of manga and says, "you read manga backwards." I feel like I have said that verbatim as a kid!

via Cartoon Network

That was a really fun moment. We were trying to introduce the ninja kids who just hang out and read manga. We thought when you're introducing someone to manga, you can't start without saying, "Well, ya read it backwards!" We decided we NEEDED to put that in the show.

It was very true to life. I love those little moments. Speaking more generally, what does it mean to be a head writer on a TV show?

Being a head writer means a lot of different things depending on the show. On Craig, it's nice because I get to be the link between the writing and the storyboard artists. Our show is very cohesive in that it's very storyboard driven. That means we take the premise and outline and then hand it off to the storyboard artists, and they draw everything, including dialog. Then we come back together and they'll pitch their work to us. We'll make sure that we pitch ideas and jokes, and really punch it up to make it stronger. We have this kind of cohesion where everyone gets to really leave their stamp on the episode. Being a head writer means overseeing that process, the writing room, recording, assisting with directing, sometimes getting in on editing. It's so much more than just running the room. It's been a really cool experience for me. I get to follow the stories not just from their initial creation, but all the way to their end, which has been really cool.

That sounds so incredible. So, how did you break into being a head writer, as opposed to different writing roles?

I actually have only been a writer here in LA for about five years. Before that, I was a security guard at Target, oddly enough. I've always had an interest in writing, and I wanted to break in, but I didn't know how. I was able to find out about a yearly contest called the Nickelodeon Writing Program, where you would enter scripts and, out of around 2,000 applicants, they choose up to four people every year. They move you out to LA, and you get to work at Nickelodeon as a writer. You get to learn, you get paid, and you get all these amazing perks. I got to take improv and sketch writing, just all of these incredible things. When I moved out here once I finished up at Nickelodeon, I eventually found my way to Cartoon Network. I started working with Matt and Ben on Craig of the Creek. I was a staff writer for the first year, and by the second season, I was promoted to head writer. I've been very fortunate, the way I got in. I think it was a lot of "right place at right time," but also luckily having the skills to back it up that led to this quick rise.

That's amazing, what an incredible journey!

Thank you!

To be selected from over 2,000 writers — I think that says a lot about the talent you have.

Thanks, that's really cool.

In addition to Craig of the Creek, I know you have also worked on shows like The Owl House, and you mentioned that you spent some time at Nickelodeon. What is it like to write specifically for animation?

Writing for animation is tough because there's a lot of visual storytelling you have to be aware of. You are also writing for someone else. I think if you're writing novels or similar stuff, you can write the story exactly as it is in your mind and someone else can read it and see where you're coming from. When you're writing for animation, though, you have to be aware that whatever you write, someone else has to draw. Someone else has to design. Everything you write is going to be on someone else, so it's tempering all of those expectations you have for your own writing. You have to tell a fun, captivating story without pushing it too far, or making every shot a crowd scene. Then people would have to animate 50 people running by in every shot. It's a very intricate level of storytelling where you have to really see what the most important parts of the story are and convey that.

That's an interesting point. I think there's this sense with animation of like, "Well the options are limitless because I can just draw it!" But then there's the realization of, "Ah, well that burden is laid on a bunch of people who actually have to animate the thing."

Yes.

I imagine there's a good amount of give and take there. Did you always want to break into animation, specifically? Has animation been a passion for you?

Yes and no. I mean, I've always wanted to work in animation because I've been a fan my whole life. A lot of people have that teenage phase where they think, "I'm too adult for cartoons," and they kind of move away from it, but I've never done that. I've always appreciated animation. But I also appreciate live-action. The first time I got to work on an animated show was Harvey Beaks at Nickelodeon, and I really got to work with that crew and see everything that went into creating 11 minutes of television. It's so much work from so many people. It's like watching a conveyor belt in action. Seeing those things really laying out in front of me gave me a brand new appreciation, even more so. Since then, I've known animation is definitely where I want to be.

via Cartoon Network

That's so cool. Craig of the Creek features such a wide cast of characters. How do you and the team approach writing for so many different voices from different backgrounds? I think the thing that's been really successful for us has been to reach beyond our writing room. At the end of the day, we only have so many experiences and can only write from so many perspectives. Our crew is dedicated to representing perspectives people may not have gotten to see growing up. So, we reach beyond our room to the crew. People are welcome to share their stories, welcome to pitch ideas for stories and characters. We really want to make sure that at the end of the day, we're making a show that people are not only proud to work on, but that they're excited to show it to their family and friends.

Is it common for writing teams to be structured in a way where they have opportunities to work across other departments, or is that harder to find?

It really depends on the show. I've been on shows where the writers only hang out with writers and the artists only hang out with artists. Coming from Harvey, which was a very closely connected group, I knew that was something I wanted when I was starting on Craig. Matt and Ben had come from Steven Universe, so I knew they wanted the same things. Early on, we really made an effort to make sure our group was close and our crew was excited to hang out, to talk and share ideas. It's kinda been ingrained from the very beginning of the show.

I love hearing about the kind of collaborative environment. So, I know you've lended your voice to one of the characters on Craig, and that you've done voiceover for other cartoons as well. Did you always have an interest in voice acting, too?

I've wanted to be a voice actor since I was a kid! I was definitely that one kid who recognized voices in shows. I was like, "Oh that's Phil LaMarr!" I immediately knew! I always thought it was cool — it was this way to embody a character. You really get to step into their shoes and become someone else in a way that's similar to writing. I've wanted to be a voice actor forever, so it was fortunate that I finally got that opportunity on Craig. It was really nerve-wracking, though! You go into the recording booth and it's really quiet, and you're immediately aware of every single noise, like the weird click your tongue makes when you speak. Everything is hyper-focused. But it's been really cool. I appreciate them giving me the opportunity to really get to do it on Craig. I was able to transition into other opportunities by doing voices on this show called The Fungies! at Cartoon Network. I have a blast every time!

You touch on something really interesting, which is how writing and voice acting both go hand in hand in terms of getting into the head of a character. What have you learned about writing through voice acting and vice versa?

The thing I've learned about writing from voice acting is that, even if I'm not sure of a joke while writing it, actors are so talented that they can usually deliver it in a way I wasn't expecting. They'll usually knock it out of the park every time. It's also really taught me to write to someone's strengths — just knowing that one actor is really good at these frantic moments lets me know that I can really play them up in the writing. Or maybe another actor is great at delivering heart and emotions, so we can make sure to nail their speech. Being in the booth really taught me that voice acting is so difficult, so I want to make sure we're setting up everyone who enters that booth for success with the best script we can give them, the best lines we can give them, and really set them up to knock it out of the park. It's this weird sort of symbiosis where you each try to prop one another up. Going from each side, from one side of the glass to the other, has shown me that I think we both just want to make sure we're. giving the actors the best material we can, and actors just want to provide us with the best performances that they can.

via Cartoon Network

It's really interesting to hear how that all comes together, and how both of those perspectives are sort of similar in some ways. I'm curious, how did the conversation about you voice acting in Craig of the Creek start?

I was able to find my way into the booth by begging a lot! Haha, not really, but it's one of these things I had to speak up early about and just say, "Just so you guys know, this is something I'm passionate about. This is something I've really wanted to do." I couldn't be afraid to take those risks, even in a room where I'm pitching a character, putting myself out there with a goofy voice, hoping that I'm impressing them with the passion I'm giving these characters. Luckily, it worked out, and I think they appreciated my drive and how much respect I have for the craft of voice acting. I was also taking voice acting classes as well, so I was really not shy in letting them know that this was something I seriously wanted to pursue.

I know on Rocko's Modern Life, one of the writers just kept inserting his voice audition in the pile, and finally, someone was like, "This one is really good, who is this?" and he was like "It's me!" I'm always curious about those little moments for everybody.

I wish I had known about that story, I might have gone that route!

The sneaky route!

Plan B, you know.

Another question I wanted to ask is, how does it feel to know that people resonate with your work? Your writing and acting contributions to the show are excellent, and the series is a lot of fun for both kids and adults. There's something about it that just captures the charming innocence of being a kid with a big imagination. Everything is whimsical, but there is a lot of grounded humor and references to pop culture we all love. What does it feel like to have your work reach so many people?

First, thank you for all of those kind words about the show, I really appreciate that. It means so much. I think it's one thing when you're working on something and you get caught up in it and think of it as a day to day gig. But Craig has never felt like that. Early on, it felt very special. The crew felt special, and we were all proud of what we were making. We were all hoping that people would relate to it and really have fun watching it. So, seeing everybody watch all of these moments where we have Sparkle Cadet and people really resonate with a black magical girl in a Western animated show ... Seeing people resonate with our various Slide the Ferret gags which may or may not be related to Sonic — I cannot say legally. Seeing the very heartfelt stuff, the family stuff, the stuff you don't see a lot, and watching people see those things and feel good and feel validated ... it's been incredible. It means so much, more than I can really put into words. It's just a really good feeling, and I feel proud of the stuff we're doing and continuing to do.

via Cartoon Network

You and the team are doing awesome work. One of my friends recommended the show to me a while ago, and once I started watching I was like, "Yeah, I get it." There's just something really nice about it. Also, Jeff Rosenstock's music is just great.

Jeff's the best! Jeff's the absolute best. Every time he sends some music in, I'm like, "How do you do it?"

Do you guys work together at all? Is there a "meeting of the Jeffs"?

Oh, all the time. I'm very fortunate to call Jeff a friend. He's one of the coolest people I know. I think we're constantly in awe of each other, which makes for an interesting friendship. He's so talented and so funny, and he makes everything look so easy. It's kind of unfair how talented he is, but I couldn't be a bigger fan of Jeff, he's great.

Something I was curious about is if you had any influence on the music. The music really makes the scene sometimes, and then you have the opening and ending songs. Do you work with the music at all as a lead writer, like finding the right vibes for a scene or writing lyrics with Jeff? There's an episode where Craig sings in front of a live crowd, and I was curious what the creative process was like on an episode like that.

Jeff and I worked together on a musical episode called "In the Key of the Creek," where Jeff came to town. He was living in New York at the time and came to town for a week, and would sit in the writing room while we were breaking the story. He would just write these songs or he'd go home and like three hours later send us a demo saying, "Yo! I came up with this today." And it's like ... how?! This is incredible! Usually, Ben Levin, one of the co-creators, works directly with Jeff, but he's been very open to working with the rest of the crew. The episode you mentioned, "Vulture's Nest" ... I believe Tiffany Ford, one of our directors, wrote that song with Jeff. He's very open and accessible to working with the crew for songs and different episodes, which has been really cool.

via Cartoon Network

I have to circle back to this ... you mentioned Slide the Ferret — who may or may not be related to any other legal entity — but UNRELATED TO THAT ... As someone who is a huge fan of Sonic the Hedgehog (and also ferrets, coincidentally), Slide the Ferret really speaks to me. I was like, "This rocks. I love everything about this." I'm curious, was Sonic a big part of your childhood? Or the childhoods of the rest of the staff?

Yes, Sonic 2 was the first video game I ever beat, actually. I would always get to the plane level and then have to hand it off to my sister. I remember when I finally beat Metal Sonic and Robotnik, and I felt like I was the greatest gamer in the world. So much of our crew has similar feelings about Sonic. Slide the Ferret came into the show very early. I think Matt and Ben came up with the character very early into the show. And then, I think the second the crew was like "oh, this is our Sonic and we can create all the lore?" it just got out of hand. There's like this show within the show loosely based on Dragon Ball where there's these things called the Chaos Orbs that you collect. They're like the Chaos Emeralds but we treat them like Dragon Balls.

It's been great! It's been so cool to watch our design team really take that world and expand it even more. There's this character named Claus the Badger who is the coolest looking character I've ever seen. I keep pestering them to let me voice him, so we'll see how that goes.

That sounds like so much fun! I always love whenever there's a Slide moment. I'm just like, "Yup! I'm here for it." I'd like to know, what are some of your favorite anime?

Oh man, okay. One of my favorites is My Hero Academia — shout out to my buddy Zeno who plays Hawks as well as The Green Pancho on Craig of the Creek. I've been enjoying Fire Force, The Promised Neverland, I love Dragon Ball Z, of course. What else ... Samurai Champloo — I used to watch that one every week with my dad, so it's special for me. I could name stuff all day, and I know I'm forgetting some. After I'm done, I know I'll be like, "Aw crap! Why didn't I mention this ..." But these are the ones I'll go with.

Is there any message you want to share with fans of your work?

Yes! If you want to see more, please find me on Twitter @MrJeffTrammell. I post about my work too much there. I would also say that there is so much more fun stuff on the way. If you are a fan of Craig of the Creek and you love anime, there may or may not be an episode coming up in which the Elders do an anime convention. It may also feature Slide the Ferret and a cavalcade of characters from that video game. Definitely keep your eyes peeled for that.

This has been wonderful! It's been really cool to hear about your background with the show and how you broke into the industry. Thank you.

Thank you so much to Crunchyroll for having me!

via Cartoon Network

You can follow Jeff Trammell on Twitter @MrJeffTrammell. Craig of the Creek airs on Cartoon Network and is available on HBOMax and Hulu.

By: Guest Author

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

5 notes · View notes