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#i was waiting to have something smart to add but guess what burnout is a bitch
gilbirda · 10 months
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Danny is the rightful Ghost King, but since he's not of age he needs a regent who is a) his species, b) his family, and c) an adult. The only adult haftas are Vlad or this Red Hood guy from Gotham that he's never heard of. Since Vlad is not going to happen looks like it's Red Hood, now how to make the guy count as family...
Jason has had a lot of weird shit happen to him over the years but a woman tracking him down as Red Hood to propose a temporary political marriage so he can be regent of a death dimension until her brother is old enough to rule in his own name is a new one for him. Of course he accepted. The only other option was apparently a creepy uncle figure. He's read enough romance to know a forced marriage of a woman to her creepy uncle never ends well. A forced marriage of a woman to a crime lord doesn't usually end much better, but he's ignoring that for now. He's going to woo and romance his spit fire of a wife with respect, spontaneous poetry, his damn good cooking, and by not being a Darcy. And he is going to rock not just this whole regent thing, but also and more importantly the mentoring her brother and his new ward on how to rule this dimension. Competence is always attractive. He runs a tight ship in his crime empire, surely running a dimension can't be that much harder.
He actually already has a plan on how he's going to handle the whole 'The USA declared war on the dimension he's regent of' thing. It's simple really he goes to the next family dinner and causes chaos. The faces everyone will make will be glorious when he drops that he's lord regent of a dimension, the USA is at war with his dimension, and it's such a shame that no one can meet Jason's wife or ward till there is a peace treaty. Then he just needs to sit back and watch the entertainment as his siblings realize he has forever won the position of favorite child by being the first married and first to give Bruce a grandkid. Also you know the chaos of Bruce willing to wage a one man war if necessary so he can meet his grandson. Jason figures it will take at most a month for the government to cave.
And like a cherry on top he's going to get on a medical treatment plan for the pit. Everything is looking great for him.
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pluto-glow · 1 year
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I’m having brain rot for my rvb mall au so have some notes and thoughts I have so far for the Grif sibs and Simmons. This is still very much in progress so some of this might change
I’m gonna make more of these for the other people too- but this whole au started Grimmons centric, so I’m starting there
Psst here’s the original post where I talk about this au
Grif:
He/they pronouns? Gay and poly
Owns a piercing/tattoo shop with his younger(?) sister
Is the tattoo artist at said shop
He’s kinda shy about his artistic abilities and down plays them a lot, but he’s been drawing since he was a kid and he’s really good at it
He’s also a good cook from having to cook so much for himself and Kai when they were growing up
Has overworked smart kid burnout syndrome but he tries to push through it since him and his sister own a shop together and he ends up handling a lot of the paperwork type stuff
The first year Grif and Kai had the shop Grif didn’t have the money to get Kai a birthday gift so he did a tattoo for her and they add onto it little by little every year
Has vitiligo and is originally from Hawaii
Maybe has OCD? Or is neurodivergent in some way? Possibly ADHD
Kai's the only one who gets to call him Dex, only friends get to call him Dexter. Some of the others sometimes call him Dexter, but Tucker's the only one who calls him Dexter more than Tucker calls him Grif
Dating Tucker maybe? And eventually gets with Simmons
I know I said this is Grimmons- and it is- but I’m curious about playing around with Grif x Tucker in this
Kai:
She/they pronouns (maybe neos too?) bi and poly
Owns the piercing/tattoo shop with older(?) brother
Is the piercer at said shop
She likes to play music in the shop and she’ll probably be dancing around to it while doing stuff like cleaning or restocking supplies
Is a pretty good cook, but she likes Grif’s cooking more
Is originally from Hawaii
Is colour blind (I need to double check some stuff about colour blindness, but I'm leaning towards protanopia?)
Probably has ADHD too
Probably has the combined type of ADHD (am I projecting my ADHD onto her? Maybe a little)
Probably has at least one matching tattoo with Grif that they designed together, maybe a saying that their mom used a lot when they were kids, or the first logo for their shop, or something related to Hawaii, I haven’t decided yet
Absolutely has a bunch of piercings 
I haven’t decided what all piercings yet tho- probably at least her seconds on her lobes, stretched ears, an industrial bar, maybe spider bites? (I love spider bites so much you have no idea)
Dating tex
Simmons:
He/him trans guy. Gay or bi poly
Is the owner of the new flower shop in the area
Neurodivergent and has an interest in flowers, especially their meanings
Not great with words and expressing feelings so tends to do it through more- uncommon non-verbal ways? Like flowers and their meanings and gifts
Was in an accident as a kid so now has a prosthetic leg on one side, plus a lot of scaring
He hides his prosthetic and scaring a lot and is super self conscious about it
Pre-op when the story starts, but he’s on the waiting list for top surgery
Part way through the story he gets his top surgery, but since Simmons cut contact with his family, Grif and some of the others help with his recovery
It started as Simmons just asking if someone could check on his shop while he’s gone but evolved into people insisting on running his shop for him so he doesn’t end up super tight on money from having his shop closed for however long his recovery takes
Grif stays with Simmons for a few days, he was originally only supposed to be Simmons’ ride to and from the surgery but at one point while talking with the doctor or nurses about the recovery and post-surgery care it gets brought up who was gonna be at Simmons’ place with him to help him out. The doctor/nurses thought it was gonna be Grif, and Grif just responds with “well it is now I guess”
Whoever Grif was talking to was concerned that this wasn’t already figured out-
But it worked out in the end so oh well
Some fruity stuff happens while Grif stays with Simmons to help him with the recovery
Maybe a little bit of “oh no, he has to spend the night and there’s only one bed!”, who knows /hj
Eventually gets with Grif
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pandorafics · 5 years
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A College Bartender Au
(( Well then 🙃 I'm still breaking my rules here. Psst @sk-1522. It' here. I want to thank @apologieslogan for dropping the initial idea for the fic so this is for them.
-Pandora
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Cw: I don't think so, not yet
Word count: 2,064
 “ Roman? Are you okay?” Patton finally questioned while he looked at his friend pouring over textbooks. Two empty coffee cups by the drama nerd's side. To the young baker… this was like seeing every world monument at once.  It was amazing. However, it was also frightening that it was possible.
    “No, I am dying. I have all this stuff to do, and barely any time. Mrs. Dominic is going to laugh at this exam grad, it's curtains for sure!”   Roman groaned dropping his head into the books in front of him with a sigh. Ro reached for his third coffee, he only raised his head when the cup was gripped tightly in his hand.
    “You never worried about Mrs. Dominic's class before and you typically pass. Which is impressive enough. She doesn't like anyone.”
    “Patton I have been bewitched by this handsome glasses clad fellow with a mind sharper than my sword.” Roman whined before taking a sip of his coffee, “ She actually likes him, Patton.  She is actually a human with him! I don't get it!  How! How does any one person get into a casual conversation with her? Debate with her. And then carry on as normal!”  He ranted in frustration his hands moving as he talked. However, his movements were more spastic since he was tired.
    The baker sighed his hand reached into his bag and pulled out two cookies setting them down on the napkin. The smaller man ignored the sounds of annoyance coming from others in the coffee shop. “ Logan?  He is just really smart. Mrs. Dominic has a lot of respect. For kids like him. I am sure he is not a snob just talk to him.”
    “No I will prove I am sm- oh there he is.” Roman silenced himself looking down at the multitude of books. As the nerd entered the shop placing his order.   Logan glanced around the boisterous shop before spotting an acquaintance of his, Patton (he hoped), gently patting the back of another student appearing to try and study.  
    Trying was the keyword in Logan's mind. The man was hunched over multiple books. His hair ruffled from shoving a hand through it repeatedly.  There we two empty disposable cups by his side and one griped in tight fingers while he stared at the same spot on the page from only inches away.  That settled it.
   “Greetings Patton, how are you today?”  Logan questioned as he walked over. He had time before his order was completed. Patton smiled at his friend waving.
    “Hi, Logan! I’m doing pretty good, what about you? “
    “Satisfactory, unlike your friend it seems, anything I can assist with?” Logan remarked in a seemingly neutral tone.  
    “I am fine!” Roman protested, in an offended tone. Logan hummed looking at the page he was trying to study, and then looked up to meet the brown eyes that were narrowed in a glare at him.
    “You're failing to study correct?” Logan said his blue eyes narrowed at the stubbornness of the other.
    “Logan, please. Just let him focus. This is important to him.”  Patton interjected looking between his two friends.
    “This is actually very important to me and I have it under control,” Roman added with a huff.
    “Then how about this. I'll ask a question answer it correctly without peaking at the page in front of you and I will let it go. If you answer incorrectly. I show you how to study properly.” Logan said calmly looking at the boys in front of him.  Roman looked at the nerd, who had the balls to talk to him like that.
    “Fine ask away to teach. I have been studying for hours I got this!”
    “ Alright.” Logan pulled a notebook from his bag and opened to a blank page. He wrote ‘Long-term Memory’ at the top.
    Patton sat to the side sipping hot chocolate with a small smirk, to avoid sighing at Roman’s mistake. Like it or not this was one of Roman's worst subjects. To Patton, Roman Just let his stubbornness dictate his actions.  
    Logan drew two branches one veering left and the other veering right. The branch on the right he left a two line gap then drawing a branch going down a line. Before stopping. On the left branch, he left a two line gap drew a branch going down another two-line gape and then two more branches veering right and left.  “This is the graph at the top of the page, fill in the subdivisions of long-term memory and what falls into those categories.”
    “ Logan Croft?” The barista called out, Logan stood up and looked at Roman.
    “One moment.” The nerd said before walking away Roman looked at the paper Logan had just drawn and grumbled. His pride kept him from cheating. However, Ro struggled to remember what he had read.  
    “You have got to be kidding me. I literally have been studying this page for an hour. I should know this.” He grumbled before naming the ones he kinda thought that he knew.  He was disappointed in himself, to say the least. However Roman kept trying. This nerd was not going to strip him of his pride.  
    Not when this nerd also charmed him.  He bowed his head trying to think. It was not working. Nothing was helping.  “ So, have you finished?”
    Roman huffed as the neutral tone spoke to him again. “ I huh- no I'm not.”   
    “Right… at any rate, I have twenty minutes to get to class and will probably not be able to wait until it comes to you. Here are my address and number. If you want the help simply text me when your coming. And please get some rest. It is important if you actually want to retain any of the information you have been haphazardly gorging on. Good day.”  Logan set a piece of paper on the table. A gloved hand holding his coffee as he walked away.
    The drama kid looked at his friend with wide eyes. “What the-”
    “ One more thing?” Logan called over his shoulder looking at the pair.  Roman swallowed nervously.
    “ Yes?”  
    “ Water helps the brain function more than coffee.”  The nerd said before leaving to his class. This time Roman waited until the ding of the bell before allowing himself to give a look of sheer bewilderment.  
    “ Did that really just happen?”
    “ Yes, I am so sorry Ro, he can be a bit-”
    “ I have a study date!  And it is something he has a passion for!” Roman sang out as if the spirits had just been lifted by guardian angels. Several ‘hushs’ were hissed out at the pair. It was early enough that nobody was ready for Roman Prince's version of extra.
    “ No no no. Roman this is bad. How do you intend to focus when you're sitting less than two feet in front of him. You couldn't even manage to keep it together in the same room as him!” Patton snapped hoping his hopeless friend would see reason.
    Another hush from the people behind them had Roman packing his bag. He wanted to sing and scream from the rooftop.  These people wanted to be boring and wake up for the day. Roman understood. As for what Patton said, Roman could only sigh. “ Patton I will take care of this don't worry.  I need to go, rest, bathe, and rejuvenate!” Roman standing as he adjusted his bag and moved to walk out the door.
    “Roman. His number. “ Patton sighed holding out the paper Logan had left behind.
   “ Oh, right, thanks,”  Roman stated rubbing the back of his neck. He walked back and accepted the napkin. The grin on his face so wide Patton thought the skin would tear.  
    Patton put on a smile, “No problem kiddo just try not to upset your roommate again.”  
    “Surly Temple will be fine. He is used to my antics that is if he is even there. The grouch usually leaves for work by now.”  Roman says calmly as Patton gathered up his own belongings. By the time Pat looked back up Ro had disappeared. Whatever happened, Logan better not break his friend's heart.
   Logan shook his head with a sigh as he went to class, that poor, huh, he hadn't even gotten a name.  That was… unlike him, usually, Lo would get to at least know someone before offering to help someone study. Yet, the young man seemed to be the exception. No matter. He will behave better next time. Granted coffee boy didn't think he was an asshole and never spoke to him again.  
   The twenty-year-old sighed softly when his phone buzzed twice, and then twice more, curious.  A flick of his thumb would show one text was His co-worker and friend Virgil, the other was an unknown number from presumably the coffee boy from fifteen minutes ago.  Virgil first, after all, it may be business related.
    ‘morning teach, hey we still practicing at noon? I really need to get away from the singing lunatic. He just burst in the damn door singing Queen and I can not handle it if I have work at four thirty. ‘
    Shame, Virgil was always having issues with the theater kid, and it was annoying  ‘ You have my apartment key, go rest there. Just try not to make a mess. And we will practice when I come home. Free pouring, hopefully, you won't plant me into the ground this time.  Your muddling needs work, desperately, so we will also make a pitcher of Sangria. Pop quiz: What does “with a twist” mean?’
    ‘ I'll take that as a good morning. with a twist is a ref to the garnish a piece of lemon to add flavor to the drink.’
   ‘ What is the form of lemon?’
   ‘ Lo, it is 7:43 in the morn. Lemon wedge I guess :/’
‘  “With a twist” is the addition of citrus peel used to enhance the flavor of a beverage based on the flavor profile. I will see you after class.’  
   ‘ Do you ever slow down? You just ran a 7-3am here it is 7:43 am and you're starting again? Ever hear of burnout?’
   ‘ If your free pour counts were as accurate as your astute observations of the clock. I'd be out of a tutoring job.’
    ‘ Uhh fuck you lo’
    ‘ I am not a fan of aggravated copulation rituals, therefore I am going to have to reject your… less than the kind offer.’  Logan responded a final time before walking into his first class of the day. His phone turned off and put away as the professor started the discussion with an air of expertise that Logan had always idolized. The confidence, and demanding presence.  The teacher didn't force people to pay attention to. His words were thoughtful and questioning prompting discussion from everyone while notes were written on the board.
Logan Croft loved to learn. it was his blood.
   Virgil shook his head at Logan's response, taken literally again. He had no clue if it was intentional or not at this point. However as much as it annoyed him, it was funny that Lo could be so smart, yet so dumb.  The rookie stood grabbing his bag and sauntering out of the door. Honestly, “ We Are the Champions, ” is a solid song even if it isn't his cup of coffee. However, there is a time and place dude.
   Roman undressed his eyes glancing at the scars, it was a liberating feeling.  The binding had never done his singing any good. Nevermind he was not the most cautious, but he could breathe deep now. Hold a note.  His eyes never looked below the scars, he couldn't.
      A half hour later he was in bed,  his fingers laced behind his nearly black hair.  Roman could get some rest, he had sent Logan a text that he would be at his place by 12:45. That would do for now. He could pack study supplies later.    
    Logan hadn't realized he had dozed off in class. He didn't even recall feeling particularly tired. Well at the coffee shop maybe, but the caffeine, sugar, and taurine( from an energy drink at work earlier) should have assisted him.  He was still out cold in his astrology lecture.
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itsblissfuloblivion · 6 years
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Kindle - Chapter 4
A/N: It’s here!  Happy Monday!  We hope you enjoy :)  Let us know what you think <3
Also available on FF and Ao3!
Harry grinds his teeth and dials Ron’s phone number. The day has been a real pain even without Teddy to watch over and he blames it all on his fun little dream session from the night before. Still, it’s been awhile since he allowed himself to say bugger, grab his keys and wallet, throw on some random t-shirt and jeans, and just go out with the boys. Well, technically, it is the boy. The other part of their young adults complaining about life gang was stuck in her office - by choice, if he might add. Hermione never missed an opportunity for some extra studying, so working as a lawyer meant exactly that. Sometimes, he thinks Ron is the only one with a smart and successful career path.
He sighs and waits for the line to connect. On the other side, his mate’s sleepy voice forms a barely distinguishable “Hullo?” and Harry wonders how can someone be sound asleep at nine in the evening. Precisely because, yes, unlike himself, this someone is the only one with a smart and successful career path. Working when he wants and how he wants, Harry thinks with a trickle of envy fuelled by roughly ten liters of coffee and a couple of sleepless nights hunched over his desk.
“Wake up, we’re going out. Rosmerta’s pub down on Abbey Road,” Harry utters strict instructions.
“Hello to you too, you nutcase. Who phones a bloke in the middle of the night on a Saturday and commands him out his bed with no shame?” Ron complains, but nevertheless rolls out of his sheets to put some clothes on and swiftly brush his teeth.
“First of all, it is nine, which means there are three more hours until the middle of the night,” his old sass comes out as he impatiently explains.
“And second of all?”
“There is no second of all,” Harry drawls as if Ron just asked why two plus two do not equal three, but four.
“You can’t say ‘first of all’ if you don’t plan on following with a ‘second of all’, mate,” the ginger haired man points out matter-of-factly.
“Ron, I reckon spending all that time with Hermione has permanently damaged you,” Harry shakes his head and checks the time on his old battered watch. “Just meet me there in forty, alright?” He addresses the question in a rather harassed tone and slams the phone’s lid shut. Grabbing a pair of sneakers and mentally thanking his parents for agreeing to look after Teddy for the night even in the midst of another crazed packing session, he makes his way towards the hall and closes the apartment door behind him.
“So the reason you summoned me at an ungodly hour is?” Ron raises a ginger eyebrow as his best mate makes his way back clad with two pints filled to the brim.
“Ungo-Nevermind that,” Harry clicks his tongue and takes a seat opposite Ron. “I needed a break,” he shrugs and takes a long sip to get through the annoying foam left on top by the bartender. Not his day, it seems.
“Right,” Ron nods and mirrors his friend, lifting the pint to his lips. “But why?”
Harry ruffles his hair in frustration, searching for a way to phrase his answer. “Teddy - I reckon I’m all he’s got left and I can’t abandon him, I can’t!”
Apparently the expression on his face alarms Ron, because he bends over the lager stained table and pats Harry on the shoulder twice, whispering something close to “breathe” and “let it all out.” Harry has a hunch that this might be another of Hermione’s tips and tricks, but chooses to shut up, for the moment at least.
“I’m fine,” he huffs.
“Of course you are,” Ron replies, seeming unable to decide if he should repeat the shoulder patting or not.
“Listen to me, I only need a break! Or, at least, a break once in awhile, particularly when I’m working under a deadline from hell and so far my best option is not sleeping for at least a week,” he adds, conscious that he’s sounding a wee bit dramatic, but it’s not really the time to care. He did call his friend out of bed to complain, so complain he will.
“What about James and Lily?” Ron asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm. Briefly, Harry is reminded of another person with a freckle just above her upper lip, but nearly faints when he realises that he’s projecting those thoughts on Ron, the person he’s having the conversation with, and not his sister, who is probably out with some tall dark and handsome good-for-nothing at a fancy place or whatnot. He has a feeling this small detail, unconsciously burned into his brain, might have been the coal which fired his imagination into overdrive last night.
“They’re moving, along with Sirius,” Harry says with a sigh, “Yeah, the whole gang is packing as we speak and will soon move overseas, to New York no less.” He knows the lack of enthusiasm for his parents’ progress careerwise does him no honour, but it’s not really the time to start feeling self conscious. Sirius always did say that there are mornings specially designed for that, so where was the rush?
“Oh. Good for them,” Ron pipes up and lifts his pint in cheers. “Right. How about Ginny?”
Harry feels beer flooding his nostrils as he starts coughing wildly. Ginny? Ginny Weasley aka the girl he’d been thinking about mostly every second of his existence after that glorious day at the bakery? The girl that has haunted every one of his dreams, adult content included? Well, that seems like a mighty fine idea! Why not invite her to his home on a regular basis and just smack his head against the wall every time he wants to gawk at her? Yes, why not?
“Look, you don’t have to make a decision right now, but I’ll give you her number just in case,” the young man flips open his phone and punches the keys to find his baby sister’s number and sends it via text to Harry - who feels the urge to caress the bleeping screen that now shows the five letters forming her name. He blinks as he reads the name and the digits next to it for the sixth time, feeling like he’d just been told one of the best guarded secrets of humankind.
Ron tosses a peanut into his mouth with the same expert accuracy he honed in their school days and glances at Harry, “I know I do the whole sibling bit with Ginny, but she really is good with kids. Fleur even picks her over Gabrielle - which is a big deal since Ginny doesn’t know how to bake an adequate souffle, which is apparently considered a legitimate concern in that household.”
“I don’t know, mate. I reckon it might do me good to have a helping hand with Teddy while I work,” he ponders, tracing the brim of the pint with one finger. “My department head did put my name up for that big grant, by the way,” Harry suddenly grins and lifts up his gaze to meet Ron’s, leaving out the fact that he’d also signed him up for a burnout the size of an elephant in a mission impossible three months race to the finish line. There was time to commiserate about that later.
“Bloody brilliant,” Ron chimes and clinks his glass to Harry’s. Although his eyes sparkle with genuine enthusiasm for his best mate, Harry can’t help but wonder whether there has been any moment of regret for Ron, for giving up on his academic career when family took first place. The thought makes Harry’s stomach shrink and he’s filled with a wave of compassion for the man standing opposite him.
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that, right?” Harry speaks his mind on impulse, but is surprised to find that he does not regret it. Expressing emotion and feelings is not his strongest point, that much he knows.
“Aw, you’re not so bad yourself,” Ron grins toothily as his ears color a faint shade of pink and then coughs to hide his obvious glee at being complimented. “Now about Ginny,” he swiftly changes the subject, “I reckon she’d say yes, if you gave her a call.”
“W-Why is that?” Harry stammers and his heart wildly beats to an ever-increasing pace.
“Just a guess,” Ron replies and Harry thinks he might have even winked, but can’t be certain it’s not his tired mind playing tricks. “You seemed to have a good time the other day,” he cocks an eyebrow, studying the dark-haired man who is currently looking intently at his fingernails.
“Yeah, she’s nice,” he mumbles pathetically.
“Mhm,” Ron sips his drink slowly, “Right.” Harry believes his mate left something unsaid, but doesn’t feel bold enough to ask what. Looking down at the screen of his phone once more, a brief vision of Ginny laughing and spinning Teddy around in his living room plays before his eyes and he feels mollified. He gets an idea.
“But what will her boyfriend think about her spending all her time in another bloke’s house?” He asks smugly and Ron nearly asphyxiates himself with beer.
“Blimey,” he sighs, “I’ll be gentle with you and just say that she’s recently become single, but, mate, I need to add this - and it’s only as a favour to you, because I care about you, okay? If you want to have an actual date this century, bring up your charm game.”
“Said the man who wouldn’t have noticed that Hermione was in love with him even if she danced naked in his face and shouted it herself,” Harry comments, visibly incensed.
“Hey, that’s a different story, alright?” Ron blushes and slightly pouts, while Harry chuckles and gets up to order another round. Counting the empty pints piling up on their table, he realises they’ve already downed five each and immediately knows this is not his best idea yet. The young man braces himself for misery and regrets in the morning, but being so far away from the imminent moment, he chooses not to spend another second lingering on such an irksome thought.
Hours later, he’s violently woken up by a massive headache and has to fight his way out of the tangled sheets strangling him and run to the loo to hurl his stomach out. Eyes turned to slits because of the searing pain, Harry fumbles for the medicine cabinet and retrieves one ibuprofen, his cure of choice for the scarce mornings when he experiences the effects of an intense hangover. Chugging a full glass of water in one go, Harry notices his phone bleeping and flips it open. To his stupor, a text message from one “Gin” pops on the screen and Harry is a hundred percent positive he’s about to receive permanent brain damage from the shock.
Gin: Did u know the first time the concept of carpe diem was written down was in the Epic of Gilgamesh?
Sweating, Harry punches the keys to get to the sent folder and see what drunk slurrings he’d written in his state of inebriety and overconfidence. Bloody hell, he swears hard under his breath as the text “there are no messages left” appears on the screen. Apparently, at one point during his fun night he considered deleting all his sent messages to be a brilliant idea. And, to spice things a little, he’d also saved her number as “Gin”. We’re not even dating and I already came up with pet names, how efficient of me, he thinks, mentally kicking himself.
“Darn it,” he curses again, hitting one of Teddy’s strewn toys to blow off the steam. “The first time in a long time I get a girl’s number and it’s from her brother, for babysitting. And even then I somehow manage to scare her away by getting pissed drunk and generally being allowed to carry a phone with me,” he continues his annoyed musings, plopping down on the couch with his arms crossed.
Still, the message has been there for a while, so he at least needs to figure out some damage control.
Harry: I confess I did not.
He pockets his phone with shaky hands and pulls it out every other second to look at it. Feeling stressed out, he ruffles his hair and makes his way for the shower to at least attempt to relax.
Squeezing more shower gel than usual and massaging it into his muscles, Harry closes his eyes and tries to forget the whole text message fiasco. However, it’s no use as his mind goes haywire, delving into scenarios of disaster built around multiple ideas of what he could have written. Prayers are being sent to the heavens so that it won’t turn out that he’d acted like a total creep and promises to never lay lips on alcohol are being made to whatever deity is watching over him. Minutes later, he gives up and exits the shower to towel himself thoroughly and find his glasses.
Just as he reaches for his phone to call his parents and see what they’re up to and if they can come by and drop Teddy - there’s no way he’s leaving the house this hungover, the small device starts to buzz.
Gin: Ah, then that kinda kills my well prepared seize the moment joke :(
A smile creeps on Harry’s face and his deft fingers immediately start pressing keys. Oh thank God she’s not scared yet, he gushes inside his head.
Harry: Sorry? Can I ever make up for my disgusting lack of knowledge?
Feeling smug at his own wickedness and creativity, Harry throws the phone over his shoulder on the couch cushions only to dive after it three seconds later, for fear that she might respond and he might not hear the sweet beeping sound announcing it. To his utter pleasure, three dots appear on the screen, signifying that she’s composing yet another reply. Harry starts breathing hard under the pressure.
Gin: For this and for asking me to give up my only free Sunday to watch little Teddy ;) You’ve got a lot of making up to do, mister.
He’s mortified and would gladly dig himself a hole and hide there for the rest of his life. At this point, drunk texting her that she’s beautiful and sexy would have been a million times better than requesting that she sacrifice her weekends for his sake.
“Oh God, tell me that at least I asked nicely,” he breathes and falls back on the couch, shoving off his glasses and covering his eyes with the back of his palm.
Gin: Jk, don’t panic. See you at five, right?
Contrary to her request, Harry does panic. Why are they meeting at five? What did he say? Time for damage control suddenly became a thing of the past. Great job, Potter, you sly seducer of women.
Harry: Sure thing, but why?
Smooth. Real smooth. He thinks that if he’s going to make a mess out of the situation, might as well go in head first.
Gin: Erm you invited me to come for a test drive, see if Teddy and I would get along. Or was it some kind of joke? Because I cleared my schedule for the evening and let me tell you that I do not appreciate having to be that flexible when my thesis deadline is basically knocking at my door.
She sends in a harassed looking emoji after the long text and Harry is filled with new found hope. He did not invite her out on a date, did not offend her with drunken flirting (hopefully) and, most importantly, was sane enough to formulate a proposal that Ginny would accept. He mentally hifives himself and works up the nerve to respond.
Harry: I have tripped, fallen down the stairs, rolled down to basement level and have since been experimenting momentary lapses of memory and reason. Does this qualify as an acceptable answer?
Gin: Lol no
Gin: I’ve just run into my brother being very much hungover. No need to explain anymore
Gin: Psheesh boys
Harry: Oops busted! But I will make up for it, pinky promise
Gin: Now you have three things to make up for, I’m counting ;)
Harry: ughhh do I get off one or two if I say I’m terrible at maths?
Gin: Nope. See you later
Gin: Btw I like going wild with cheese toppings on pizza
Harry blushes. Did he just have the most amazing written conversation with a girl ever? Yes, yes he did. And it came so naturally, he didn’t even have to think it through. Grinning madly, he skips back to his bedroom to put some house clothes on and whistles as he starts tidying up and inspecting the premises to hide anything embarrassing.
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asenseofagency · 7 years
Text
5/24/17
Always it’s that question of balance...
I’ve continued working in the lab this summer, at a satisfactorily reduced capacity. I've been in this lab for about a year and a half at this point and my adviser and I have a sort of dissonance about my contribution. He assures me that I've been invaluable. I don't see a lot, materially, having come out of my time. I don't regret the collaboration but... it's a strange feeling to have this irreconcilable difference of perception about something you've both experienced.
There are projects half-complete; it’s an obligation in some sense for me to keep plugging away into June and July. The paper that will document many month’s of my work is just beginning to take shape this week. That’s gratifying but I’m cautious. It’s been an instructive experience, all of it. I’m getting better all the time at speaking my mind. That's a positive. My trouble is I so often swing between extremes of mood - compulsively courteous or blunt and rude. Uncomfortably, I realize I'm more or less obligated to trust the judgment and the experience of my adviser here about the value of this research tack versus that. I feel as if we've been on a treadmill for the last several weeks but it's been hard to define the boundary between slow progress and no progress. That sensation has burnt me out to some extent but the reality is that maybe that's the /normal/ state of affairs. It's hard to say. I've lived enough life to realize that most of us are just faking it: we rarely know exactly what we're doing and this holds for the very smart and reasonably experienced, too. Even the experts in many cases are making best guesses. For most people, I think, it's that first really shocking realization of adulthood.
That could be true in this case - the quality of work we're doing could be as flimsy as I worry it is - or we could be taking a perfectly reasonable approach. I just don't have the experience to know whether my dislike of what I perceive to be the frequent directionlessness of this collaboration is justified or whether this is, in fact, the nature of inquiry in most labs and the way most research is done. Maybe I'm right to be irritated. Or maybe I'm being naive. I’m in the position of trusting my adviser's judgment when he expresses total confidence about the value of our random-walk sort of scientific approach. In five years' time, I'll look back on this with the clarity of experience and be able to say "Oh, what an inefficient method! How sloppy we were!" or "Nope, that was perfect preparation for my subsequent career! That unstructured environment really did do wonders for my creativity!" but it's a strange thing - at least at my age - to have so little intuition about a thing as you're experiencing it...
I've also been spending an enormous amount of time alone and I'm beginning to worry that it's too much. The problem is I'm between lives in a sense right now, between jobs, between moves, between locations, between goals. My trajectory is set to put me somewhere very different than where I'm at now. I'm as disinclined to invest in any personal relationships as I've ever been but... maybe that's a mistake. I had a really gratifying couple of conversations in the last two days with a friend I've been reestablishing some closeness to and with my brother. I was shocked to find how parched I’d been for that kind of contact - apparently. I'd have told you I wasn't lacking in it - in small talk about movies we'd just seen and sharing bile about current events - but it was so totally refreshing it spooked me. Still, I don't know how, or quite if, I want to remedy that right now. I swung from one end of the pendulum to the other in the last year, having been basically social to being, now, pretty isolated. I wasn't happy with the before, I'm probably not happy with the after, but I suppose that's what you have to do to get a sense of where the point of equilibrium is. Your relationships with people ground you. Maybe other things could too but there is, it seems to me lately, a vital need to be removed from your own thoughts periodically, you're own self-scrutiny. That's the only trouble with solitude if you're a person like me: you never stop examining anything because you're never pulled away from that compulsion. Your relationships reinforce a sense of worth that you find you yourself can be a threat to in their absence.
Any remediation of that is complicated by what has to be recognized as my general dislike of people, once you get to know them. Hardly anybody improves with acquaintance. This crappy stance of mine may be an unhappy result of geography: I'm a sort of vague political, cultural dissident, hopelessly scrutinizing, in a part of the country that's still awash in nostalgia for the Confederacy, still touts a Christianity it only vanishingly practices. It boggles the mind and it can be extraordinarily difficult to find kinship on matters of what I would consider basic decency. Ick. It prevents a certain amount of trust, closeness, and then, eventually, discourages even a willingness to broach new relationships. Add to that a natural isolation I should have seen coming as almost everyone my age marries, settles down, and has kids. The wagons are circled on anything that might have the appearance of a new idea or a new experience and if you’re someone, like me, absolutely starving for fresh, meaningful experiences, someone desperate even just to bump up against another person whose intellectual passion survived high school and college, you feel you’ve lost all common ground with others at times.
I'm just complaining now but, bottom line, I'm going to have to find some community in the long term. Certainly, if my reaction to positive contact expresses such a hunger. The Summer of Solitude will have to be temporary.
I'm torn generally between being compassionate and making space. I've been thinking a lot, especially in this political climate, about pettiness and exploitation and selfishness. I'd have told you even a month ago that I believed these things to be the natural condition of mankind but, really, to what extent are those things immutable characteristics of human nature? I'd love to live abroad for a while. I think some degree of my low opinion of people - their pettiness, their resistance to self-examination - has to do, in the end, with being an American, with the oppressive weight of myth and ideology in the American life and the general unhappiness and disillusionment we all feel but rarely speak about. If I take myself: I’m extraordinarily bitter, I find it tough to be in a decent mood many days, and the immediate cause of it is sort of obvious. I feel trapped in many ways in a job I hate and don't feel I really have any political agency in the affairs of my country. Isn't that, really, the case for most of us Americans? Think about what that does to people to spend a life working at something potentially valueless, peripherally aware that things around you are not getting better but that's there's hardly a thing you can do to change that. If it induces people to be bitter and walled-off, that's probably no great surprise. The great act of rebellion then, is to resist the temptation to withdraw, shutdown, and acquiesce to the inevitability of all that...
More tangibly, money has been an issue lately. It's paycheck to paycheck to some extent until maybe July for me and when you’re preoccupied with getting by, everything sort of closes in to some extent. Everything you'd like to be doing becomes wishful thinking and the immediate realities are all economic. I think what I need in a mental sense is a vacation, a little break from my surroundings to reset, but the cruel bit is that that will have to wait until later in the summer if at all. Hopefully July. I'm having a lapse of creativity trying to come up with another way of accomplishing the same thing - a break in routine - when I've not got the cash to leave town or shop or treat myself to much. The one thing in my favor is that I do have a mountain of paid time-off, so in all likelihood, I can at least start taking regular time off work - a good thing!!! Free days to sleep in and watch movies. I can avail myself of that if nothing else for now. Anything to alleviate the burnout.
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