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lamptracker · 3 years

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FIC: This Seat Taken? (Seo Changbin/Female Reader)

Literally the only reason I got this done was because I broke my toe and have an abundance of sitting-around time. So... yay, I suppose.

Onward.

Title: This Seat Taken?

Pairing: Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)/Female Reader

Summary: The reader finds herself falling in love with her best friend Changbin.

Warnings: A few potty words but other than that, not much really.

Author’s Note(s): This takes place in a world where A. There have only ever been eight members of Stray Kids (we do not talk about the AT&T of people) and B. Minho’s cats live in the dorms with them.

Which brings up two questions: Why don’t Minho’s cats live in the dorms? And have they fixed that stupid curtain yet??

As per tradition I tag @jisungiesbunnie I keep bringing this up in the Discord lol

The very last thing you wanted was to be part of a cliche.

They were everywhere. The “enemies to lovers.” The old standby “oh my God, they were roommates.” The good old fashioned “best friends to lovers.”

You wanted absolutely no part of it.

So why were you in danger of falling prey to “best friends to lovers”?

And moreover, why were you falling hopelessly in love with Seo Changbin?

You met Seo Changbin at a very vulnerable time in your life.

You were sixteen years old, and it was your first day at your new high school. You knew absolutely nobody. And since you were the new kid in school, there wasn’t a soul that wanted anything to do with you. Nobody wanted to sit near you in class. Even the teachers didn’t call on you, which was super unfortunate since you totally knew the answer in your math class. That wouldn’t have stung so much if the kid she called on had gotten it right.

So, at lunch, you found a table in the far corner, nobody around for what seemed like miles. This is as good a spot as any, you thought as you settled in.

You were partway through your cheese sandwich when you suddenly heard a deep voice say, “This seat taken?”

You looked up to find… a boy. He was short - not much taller than you were - but he had a lean yet muscular build and kind eyes.

“I don’t suppose so,” you muttered quietly.

The boy sat across the table from you. “I don’t recognize you,” he said. “Are you new?”

You nodded.

“Ah! Okay. Well, my name is Changbin, Seo Changbin?”

“(y/n),” you replied. “You’re the first person all day that’s actually said more than five words to me. And those five words have usually been get out of my way.”

Changbin scoffed. “That’s terrible. Look, some of these people can be real jerks, I-”

“Hey, Changbin! What’re you doing talking to that loser?”

The voice belonged to a boy who was in your social studies class, one who’d shoved you out of the way in the hallway to get to the lunchroom first.

“She’s not a loser, she’s just new. And she seems really nice. So if you can’t be nice to her, just go sit down.”

The boy rolled his eyes as he walked away.

“Thank you,” you said shyly.

“No problem.” Changbin flashed you a lopsided grin; you couldn’t help giggling in response.

“I have a really hard time making friends,” you admitted. “And my family moves around for my dad’s job, that doesn’t help.”

“Well, I am honored to be your friend. I mean, if you’ll let me.”

You smiled warmly at him. “Of course.”

The two of you were thick as thieves after that. It wasn’t long before you were over at each others’ houses all the time - it got to the point where your mom was picking up Changbin’s favorites at the store - and texting each other constantly. You didn’t let a day go by without at least texting each other once.

Even when you graduated from high school and went your separate ways - you went off to college, studying communications and mass marketing; he auditioned for a new K-Pop group that was forming - you made sure to talk every day.

You were there for each other when times were good - when you got accepted to your dream school, when Changbin was selected for Stray Kids. And when times were bad - Changbin was really down when Minho was eliminated, you’d had to have knee surgery right after you graduated college, and let’s not forget every failed girlfriend he’d had and every failed boyfriend you’d racked up.

He helped you find your job, too. You were six months out of college and still hadn’t found a job yet.

“I’m starting to think I majored in the wrong thing,” you lamented to Changbin over coffee one afternoon. “I loved my studies, but I just can’t seem to land even an interview. I thought communications was a growing industry, but…”

“I’m so sorry,” Changbin replied. “Let me see what I can do.”

“What you can do?” you echoed. “What can you do?”

“Give me a week,” he assured you. Shrugging, you turned back to your coffee.

“My mom wants me to join a temp agency,” you said. “If you can’t find something for me by this time next week, I’m going to.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Two days later, you’d gotten a call from an administrative assistant at JYPE. Your resume came across their desk, see, and looking over your credentials they thought you’d be perfect for a job that just opened up. Well, have you ever heard of the new group, Stray Kids? You’d be their assistant, pretty much. JYPE would book appearances and organize tours; you would be responsible for booking flights and hotels and meal reservations and whatnot. You would also live in the dorm with them - you’d get your own room, of course, far away from the rest of the guys (they’re all nice but Chan snores, a lot of them are talkers and Minho curses in his sleep). You might be asked to do a little light housekeeping, maybe cook on occas-

“I’ll take it!” you exclaimed.

The assistant laughed. “You don’t even know how much we’re paying you.”

“Don’t care,” you replied. “I’ve been jobless for half a year, and I have student loans. I’ll take it.”

Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a cup of coffee at your favorite shop, looking over the email from JYPE detailing your contract.

“This seat taken?”

“Seo Changbin! You did it, you son of a bitch.”

“Did what?” Changbin sat across from you and took a sip of his coffee, thoroughly confused.

You chuckled. “JYPE called me today. I’m going to be Stray Kids’ official assistant. I’ll be booking flights and hotels for appearances and the tour, I’ll be living with you guys and-”

“What!” Changbin rose from his seat and ran around to your side of the table, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “That’s amazing! I thought they’d just get you a job in the office or answering fanmail or something, I wasn’t expecting that!” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Okay, um. Fair bit of warning about the guys’ sleeping habits, uh-”

“They told me about a couple. Uh… Chan snores and Minho swears in his sleep.”

“Hyunjin and Jisung talk in their sleep,” Changbin added. “Felix always has to be hugging someone or something. Seungmin always, just, screams right as he falls asleep. Jeongin’s a sleepwalker, that’s super fun. We had to put like four locks on the door, we lock every other one because he just goes down the line and thinks he’s unlocking all of them. And-”

“You talk in your sleep too,” you finished. “Most of the time you’re looking for something or you’re lost, but I have definitely heard you do it.”

Changbin looked slightly wounded. “I was going to say I don’t think I do anything, but… okay, I guess.”

You laughed. “Hey, um, thanks. For helping me out. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He squeezed your shoulder again before sliding out of the booth.

Some people who fall hopelessly in love with their best friend will tell you they can’t pinpoint the exact reason why they fell in love.

You can, though.

It was a year after you first moved into the dorm… and it was all Lee Minho’s fault.

You were going through the bedrooms, gathering up laundry.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, “if these morons could get their underpants in the vicinity of the hamper, I’d be happy.”

“They’re not mine.”

You jumped, nearly bonking the top of your head on the top bunk of one of the beds. “Damn it, Minho, you scared the crap out of me.”

Minho chuckled quietly. “Sorry. How’s it going?”

“Peachy. I’m so glad I went to college so I could clean up after a bunch of overgrown children.”

“Oh, come on. We’re not that bad, are we?”

You laughed. “No. I’m just… I guess I’m grouchy today, that’s all. Didn’t sleep well last night. I actually really do like this job, I’m grateful that Changbin helped me get it.”

Minho nodded slightly. “He's going out again tonight?”

“Yep. This girl he met at the grocery store, Ha-Rin? That might be right, I’m not sure. I can’t keep track anymore.”

“Wow,” Minho said. “He’s been really unlucky in the girls department lately, hasn’t he?”

“He really has, I don’t get it.”

“Do you think… do you think they’re jealous of you?”

You shrugged. “It’s possible. I’m a girl who lives with him and has been friends with him for years. Plus I am a snack.” You made a passing motion over your body. “Who wouldn’t be jealous of this?”

Minho laughed loudly. “I might be out of line here, and feel free to punch me for it, but… but do you ever get jealous of them?”

You wrinkled your nose in confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you guys have been friends since you were sixteen. You’ve never wondered what it was like to date him?”

You scoffed. “No! Absolutely not. He’s my best friend, that would be so weird. Like dating my brother or something, gross.”

Minho laughed again, raising his hands in a sort-of defensive gesture. “Okay! Sorry I brought it up.”

But that night, you had a weird dream. You were at your senior prom (in real life, you and Changbin had skipped it to have a Marvel movie marathon). You were wearing a beautiful royal blue dress, with sequins - not too many, just enough to make it classy.

You were slow dancing with… someone. You couldn’t tell who. It was dark, and your arms were wrapped around their neck, your head nestled on their shoulder; their arms were wrapped firmly around your waist.

“Close your eyes,” a soft, yet vaguely familiar voice whispered.

You did; the person holding you unwrapped one arm from your waist, tipped your chin up, and gently pressed their lips to yours. You quickly melted into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to them as the kiss deepened slightly.

The other person pulled away slowly; you opened your eyes…

...and found yourself staring at none other than Changbin.

You sat up with a start, and you were a side sleeper, so you nearly fell out of bed.

“God damn you, Minho,” you muttered as you pulled the blanket over your head. “I can’t tell him. I can never tell him. I don’t want to lose his friendship.”

So you made two solemn vows: You vowed to punch Lee Minho in the face the next time you saw him, and you vowed never to tell Changbin how you felt about him.

You settled for giving Minho a dirty look over breakfast the next morning. As for the other thing, well...

Every time Changbin had a new girlfriend, your heart dropped ever-so-slightly in your chest. And always twice: Once, when he’d first start dating her; and once, when she broke up with him.

It was practically identical every single time: He would meet a girl. He would rush into the living room, a big smile plastered on his face, and exclaim: “I met the most amazing girl!” He would list off her qualities - pretty, smart, funny, ordered the same obscure thing from the Thai place that he liked, etc. They’d start dating. He’d come home after their third date and proclaim: “I think she might be The One, y’know? She’s - oh, wipe that look off your face, Lee Minho; I mean it this time.” Things would go really well for a brief amount of time. The longest was five months; the shortest, two weeks.

And when it inevitably went south, that was practically identical every single time as well. He’d trudge through the door, kick off his shoes, slump down on the couch, and say: “Okay, Minho, you can say I told you so now.”

Minho would always refrain, to his credit, except for when Changbin and Ha-Rin (the grocery store girl) broke up; he did not like Ha-Rin. That was a really long story. But let’s just say if cats think you’re evil, so will Minho; and his cats absolutely hated Ha-Rin. (Especially Dori, and Dori loves everybody.)

Anyway, after giving Minho the chance to gloat (which, as previously mentioned, he only did once), Changbin would give you a Look™ and you would follow him into your room. The other guys knew not to bother you in there, so it was a safe place. He’d slump down onto the bed and smile sadly at you while patting the space next to him.

“This seat taken?” you’d ask, mimicking one of his favorite lines. He would shake his head ever-so-slightly. And you’d sit, and open your arms, and he’d fall into them, sobbing all the while.

Sometimes, he would tell you why they broke up with him. They were all terrible reasons, too: Just wanted to see what it was like to date an Idol. Wanted to make their ex jealous. Needed a date to this work/school/family thing. Just trying to get closer to Chan (twice), Hyunjin (four times), Jeongin (three times), Minho’s cats (once; that girl was weird). In at least one case, it was because of you. (That was why he and Ha-Rin broke up; he never told you that was why, but she did. Seems she made him choose between her or being friends with you and he picked you. Of course, you’d never tell him you knew.)

And every single time, your heart shattered right along with his, because you knew that you would never do this to him. So why didn’t he know that?

Those feelings only solidified the night you got dumped.

You had been dating Daeshim for roughly eight months or so. You’d met at the grocery store, and were immediately drawn to him. In hindsight, you admittedly pulled a Changbin: You fell for him, hard and fast. The two of you were practically inseparable. You’d kissed on the third date, he said “I love you” after a month, you were already making plans for you future house (try to find something within a few miles of the dorms), your wedding (he didn’t bat an eye when you said that instead of bridesmaids, you wanted your eight roommates to stand up with you), even your kids’ names (Nabi for a girl, Yu-jun for a boy). He not only wasn’t jealous of the fact that you lived with eight men, he embraced it. “They were here before I was,” he’d said, “so why would that bother me?”

Daeshim was your person.

Until… he wasn’t.

The guys were all at the studio, practicing choreography for their upcoming music video, so you were home alone. Perfect environment for wallowing.

You were on the couch, curled up in a giant blanket, sobbing so hard that at one point you were afraid you’d cry your brain right out of your nose. You were a hot mess - your hair was disheveled, your eyes and nose were red and puffy, your face was wet with tears and sweat and God knows what else. You did not look cute.

And, naturally, that was the moment Changbin came home.

“Oh, no, hey,” he said softly. “Did something happen with you and Daeshim?”

You nodded hastily.

“Want me to make the other guys go away for a bit?”

You shook your head. “They’re okay.”

“Well… do you want to go to your room? We can talk there.”

You sniffled as you reached for the box of tissues. “Okay.”

Changbin helped you off the couch and gingerly led you to your room as the other guys came spilling into the living room. Felix started to ask what was going on, but Changbin just shook his head and silently mouthed I’ll tell you later.

Changbin carefully helped you onto the bed. Reversing the roles slightly, you smiled sadly at him and patted the seat next to you.

Changbin couldn’t help but smile a small smile as he said, “This seat taken?” You shook your head; he settled down next to you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to tell him what had happened, but a loud sob came out instead.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Changbin soothed as he wrapped his arms around you. “Take your time, tell me when you’re ready.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest as a fresh wave of tears came. Changbin said nothing, just held you as you cried, occasionally rubbing soothing circles over your back.

Finally, you sat up and took a deep breath. “He cheated on me.”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “He did what now?”

“I caught him,” you explained. “I went to the coffee shop down the street to get a drink and one of those croissants with the chocolate in the middle, you know? And I did a little work while I was there, too, figured it’d be nice to get out for a bit. Anyway, I walked out to come home and… and I saw them.”

“Oh, no.”

Just when you thought you had no tears left, an altogether new supply started welling up in your eyes. “He met someone at work,” you said. “They were put on a project together, they got to talking, one thing led to another. He says he loves me but he loved them too and he couldn’t choose. So… you know… I chose for him.”

“And this person still wants to date him?”

“Went back to the cafe to get my laptop charger, saw them kissing when I came back out.”

“Ugh. Wow, (y/n), I’m so sorry.”

You snorted as you tightened your grip around his waist, resting your head on his chest again. “Usually this is the other way around, I’m the one consoling you after a breakup. Must be nice for you to have the situation reversed for a switch.”

“Actually, it kills me to see you like this. You don’t deserve that, I mean nobody does, but especially you. You are amazing, you know that? You’re sweet, you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, you’re completely hilarious. You’ve done two things that I thought were impossible, you can out-drink Jisung and you can out-weird Seungmin. And, do you even know how pretty you are? Daeshim fucked up, and royally at that. Any guy would be so lucky to have you.”

You couldn’t help but smile through your tears at his words. But, you knew they were just that: words. He didn’t really feel that way about you. He was just trying to make you feel better.

Or was he?

Nonetheless, he only liked you as a friend, as far as you knew, and he was just helping lift your spirits.

He was successful at that, but he was even more successful at making you fall even deeper in love with him. The feelings you thought you’d gotten rid of when you and Daeshim started dating not only resurfaced, but intensified.

You sighed deeply, finally allowing yourself to relax in Changbin’s arms. His grip was firm but not too tight, just enough to make you feel safe and protected. He didn’t say anything else, he just allowed you to relax; occasionally he’d give you a gentle squeeze. Before too long, you were dozing.

It was only slightly weird that it was one of the best nights of sleep you’d ever had.

You woke up late the next morning, alone, but there was a glass of juice and two muffins on the bedside table. Had to go to practice, the handwritten note under the glass read. Sorry I couldn’t be here to have breakfast with you, so I figured I’d at least feed you. They’re blueberry muffins, Felix baked them fresh this morning. Take the day off if you need to, I’ll explain everything if JYP asks. Please call if you need anything.

Love, Binnie

You smiled softly to yourself as you bit into one of the muffins. Changbin was so sweet, and wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Just like a good friend should.

You scoffed slightly. Friend. That was all he’d ever be. Better get used to it...

Not long after you and Daeshim broke up, Changbin started dating this girl he’d met… somewhere. You didn’t know. Or, honestly, care. But her name was Min Jee, and she was way different from the other girls he's dated. She was pretty for sure, but she was funny and sweet and everything Changbin had been looking for. (And Minho’s cats? Adored her.)

Plus, she didn’t seem to be threatened by you in the slightest, so that was a definite plus.

You tried so hard to be happy for them. You even went out for coffee with Min Jee a few times, just the two of you, while the guys were practicing. That whole funny and sweet thing was no act - she really was that nice and that hilarious. She was touched that you wanted to be your friend, and you could have been her best friend, except for the fact that you guys had one thing in common: You were both madly in love with her boyfriend.

Two months into their relationship, the dynamic changed.

“You’re home early,” you said as Changbin gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t expect you back until later, how’s Min Jee?”

“We broke up.” Changbin hung his keys by the door and started into the kitchen.

You sighed. “Oh, Binnie, again? I am so sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Changbin shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, you know?”

For some reason - to this day, you have no idea why - but for some reason, this was the moment you finally snapped.

“You know, you go out with a lot of girls,” you started. “You always fall for them really quickly, and really hard. And you always end up single again after a few weeks. And it - you know what, Changbin? It breaks my heart, it really does. I thought Min Jee was different, but looks like I was wrong, you know? It absolutely breaks my heart to see this happen to you over and over and over again, because you deserve so much better than that. You deserve someone that truly loves you for who you are, not just because you’re an idol. You deserve someone who cares about you, who’s there for you when things are rough, who just… who loves you with every fiber of her being. I can almost guarantee that there’s not a single girl out there who can be even a fraction of those things, who can even come close to loving you as much as I do.”

Changbin’s eyes grew wide as your rant came to a close. He just stared at you for a moment, jaw slack, not saying a word…

...and that was the moment when your brain realized what your mouth had done.

Oh, no.

You know that thing you were never ever ever EVER going to tell him? That thing you were going to take to the grave with you?

Yeah, you just realized your greatest fear: You opened your mouth, and out it went.

Look, brain, you said to yourself. You can beat me up in a minute, okay? For now, though…

“I have to get out of here,” you said. You turned around and ran out the door, not even bothering to pull it closed behind you. You ran out the front door of the dorms, down the street, to the park just at the end of the block. You didn’t stop running until you reached the small pond near the back of the park - not too many people knew about this pond. It was small and clean and had a bench off to one side of it, facing the water.

Changbin found it one day, not long after he’d moved into the dorms. It was the perfect place to go to catch a breath of fresh air. He brought you here not long after you’d moved in; the two of you came here often to talk about things you didn’t want the other guys to overhear.

You slumped down on the bench, buried your head in your hands, and started sobbing.

Do your worst, brain, you said. I deserve it.

Of course you do, moron. How could you say that? How could you tell him you love him? There is no possible way he loves you back, you know that, right? You’re probably responsible for him being dumped so many times anyway, they’re all jealous of you. Even Min Jee, she didn’t REALLY like you. She was pretending, for his sake. He just hasn’t figured that out yet. You know what you just did, right? You ruined any chance of a romantic relationship with him, and not only that you’ve completely ruined your friendship. You are such a…

“This seat taken?”

You didn’t answer, instead you kept sobbing quietly into your hands. You thought that maybe if you ignored him, didn’t acknowledge his presence, he’d just… go away.

Weight settling onto the other end of the short bench told you that he did not just go away.

You heard Changbin heave a deep sigh before he started speaking. “Min Jee didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her. Uh, it was the most insane thing that set it off, too. Um, she was telling me all about her day. She always tells me all about her day. And she was telling me about her day, like she always does, and I caught myself thinking: Wow, I really do not care about this even a little bit.” Changbin chuckled quietly to himself before continuing. “I didn’t want to hear about her day. You know whose day I really wanted to hear about? Yours. Min Jee and I were together for two months and I was already tired of hearing about her day. I’ve talked to you every day since we were 16, and I never get tired of hearing about yours. Not even after you started living with us, and I got to see you every day. And I got to thinking: I have dated a lot of girls. But I think about them, even the ones I thought I loved, and I realize something: not one of them would have my back when things would be bad. When my anxiety is too high, none of them would have helped. When I felt like I had a bad performance, they’d just shrug and talk about themselves. Sure, they were pretty, and funny, and smart. But none of them cared about me the same way you do. Not even Min Jee.”

You raised your head, gently wiping your nose. “What are you trying to say, Changbin?”

Changbin gently grasped one of your hands in both of his. “I’m trying to say… I’m definitely saying that I love you too.”

Another tear slipped out of your eye as you stared at him. You tried to wrap your head around the ridiculousness of this situation:

Seo Changbin, the boy you loved and was sure did not love you back, just told you he loved you back.

Take THAT, brain.

“Um… really?” was all you could manage.

Changbin smiled softly at you; your heart fluttered in your chest. “Really. And you… you really love me?”

“Yes.” You were taken aback a bit by how quickly and effortlessly you answered the question.

Changbin’s grip on your hand tightened ever-so-slightly. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, almost shyly.

“I’d really like that.”

He let go of your hand and cupped your cheeks in his hands, carefully wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. He leaned in, licking his lips slightly before pressing them to yours.

You had dreamed of kissing him before. But even your dreams couldn’t have prepared you for the real thing, how wonderful and warm and sweet it was.

His lips were smooth and dry against yours; they parted slightly as one of his hands moved down to your waist. His other hand stayed cupped against your cheek, thumb lightly brushing your cheekbone. As the kiss deepened, you could feel him pour every emotion he’d been repressing - love, mostly, but also a sense of tenderness and longing - into it.

Changbin broke the kiss, pulling back from you; he was smiling softly and looking at you as if you were the only other person on Earth.

Not even Daeshim had looked at you like that.

“Uh… wow,” you breathed.

“Yeah,” he replied, “wow.”

You smiled back at him, resting a hand on his knee, and you leaned in to kiss him again when a sudden stiff breeze rustled through the surrounding trees. You shivered involuntarily.

“Cold?” he asked.

You nodded. “Can we go home?”

“Sure.” He stood first, gently pulling you to a standing position. You walked back to the dorms, hand-in-hand; before you left the park, he asked: “So, how was your day?”

You grinned as you told him all about your day. And he was smiling the entire time.

When the two of you got back to the dorms, it sure looked like you were alone. Changbin settled down on the couch; smiling up at you, he patted his lap.

“This seat taken?” you asked, a goofy grin plastered on his face. Changbin just raised an eyebrow as he grabbed you around the waist, pulling you into his lap. He lightly tickled your sides as you laughed, trying to settle into his lap but squirming instead.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be nice,” he said, gently kissing your cheek. “I’m so glad I finally get to hold you this way.”

“Me too.”

“You really weren’t going to say anything?”

“Were you?”

“Fair point, I guess… didn’t want to mess up the friendship either, huh?”

“You are correct, sir.”

A short pause, then: “Only one of them broke up with me because of you, you know.”

“Ha-Rin, yeah. She told me. That was totally unfair of her to make you choose.”

“She told you? She swore me to secrecy and then she told you?”

“Wanted to make me feel guilty, I suppose.” You shrugged. “Didn’t work, I hated her guts. I was never happy to see you get dumped, except when Ha-Rin dumped you.”

“Yeah, that was the only time Minho said I told you so, too.” Changbin chuckled, shaking his head. “You know what, though? None of that matters anymore, now that I’ve got you.”

You hummed happily, leaning back slightly in his arms. “You’re right. But I am dying to know what that one girl was thinking.”

“Which one?”

“Dating you to get closer to the cats?”

Changbin laughed. “Some things, you just never find out.” He nuzzled the side of your neck. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, Binnie.” You turned your head, letting his lips connect with yours. Just as the kiss was starting to deepen, you heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

You turned your head away… and there were Changbin’s seven band members, all arms crossed, staring down at you.

Changbin grinned sheepishly at them as you waved and said, “Hey, fellas.” Chan started to open his mouth, but you cut him off. “Since I know you guys, and I’m reasonably sure you guys had money riding on this situation, I’ll just settle the main bet and the prop bets. I told him first, extremely by accident but it was me. He broke up with Min Jee because he felt the same way, but that happened before I told him, not because of it. He kissed me first, and… that should settle it, right?”

“Pay up, suckers.” Jeongin held out a hand as the other guys groaned and reached for their wallets.

“How did you know he was going to break it off with Min Jee but (y/n) would be the one to say it first?!” Jisung grumbled.

“I didn’t, I just guessed.” Jeongin shrugged. “Your money, sir?”

“Go buy yourself something nice,” Jisung said. “Anyway, now that that’s out of the way…I’m really happy for you guys, I really am. Even if you did cost me 20,000 won.”

The rest of the guys nodded in agreement, a few offering their congratulations.

“Look, we’ll leave you two kids alone, if that’s what you want?” Chan said, almost awkwardly.

“Nah, you guys have the living room.” You climbed out of Changbin’s lap, offering him your hand; he took it and you helped him stand. “We’ll just go make out in my room.”

Changbin laughed as you led him down the hallway. “Awfully presumptuous, aren’t we?”

“Look, I know what I want.” You pulled your door shut behind you. “And right now, I want to kiss you.”

Changbin smiled as you sat down on your bed. “This seat taken?”

“Just get down here.” You pulled the front of his shirt; he fell onto the bed, hovering over you.

“God, you’re amazing.” He leaned down, closing the gap between your mouths.

You cannot believe you were just never going to tell him how you felt. But now, as his hand slid up to your stomach, you are more than happy you did.

Was that a cliche? Of course it was. But a cliche was making you blissfully happy, so you didn’t seem to mind it so much.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #seo changbin #seo changbin fanfiction #changbin fanfic #changbin #i think i can squeeze eight more tags in here

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gideongrace · 4 years

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Talking amongst ourselves - fanfic writer interviews: @ihni

(Originally, these interviews were done more conversationally, but this interview is a LONG one! So I edited it down for tumblr. You can read the whole unedited, uncut interview over on a03! There are pictures involved. :)

Please say your first name, your age, your pronouns, the fandoms you write for and provide a link to your a03. You can also mention your sexual orientation or other details, if you'd like.

Ihni:

My real name is Moa, but I go by Ihni online. On AO3, I have an account under Ihni (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihni) but that's for rhymes (and doodles). I only wrote rhymes/poetry for a long time, and when I started writing fic, I wanted to put that under another pen name. I was NOT comfortable writing stories for YEARS. Now, though, I don't care. So, I write fics under the pen name Thei (https://archiveofourown.org/users/thei/).

It's all Stranger Things, these days. Harringrove (because I love the fandom and I like the two of them interacting) and Billy-centric (because I love his character, SO MUCH).

I am ace and aro, so my fics tend to not contain any sex (I have ALLUDED to it a couple of times, but that's basically as far as I go). I am also just as happy to write fics without any romantic or sexual relationships at all. Billy and Steve can be buddies only, as far as I'm concerned.

How do you feel about being aroace when so much of fanfic is all about romance and sex?

Ihni:

I live by the tried and tested rule of "don't like, don't read".

There is a lot of romance in our fandom, for sure. But it's not like it's lovey-dovey IN OUR FACE romance, you know? 97% of Harringrove fics are two dumb boys who are bad at communication and who can't deal with Feelings. And I fucking live for that! Also, even the lovey-dovey fluffy romance stuff is cute, when it's them. I may not want a relationship for myself, but I don't mind at all if the boys are in one! (If they want it, they deserve it <3)

And as for sex ... well. I can read about sex, if it's well written or if it furthers the plot. If it's too graphic, I tend to scroll past it though, or just skim through it. It doesn't... give me a lot? I guess. Like, it's not like I read "smut" in the tags and go "oooh I have to read this!" - rather the opposite, in fact. I can read it, but it's not something I actively look for, and when I stumble upon it, I don't always read all of it. If I know the writer, I'll probably read through it to honor their work, though.

I just won't ever leave a "omg that was so hot!" comment! XD If someone expects that from me, they'll be disappointed (and I'm constantly terrified of disappointing or offending people for NOT commenting on their smut).

Basically, I am the master of my own fandom experience, and if something makes me uncomfortable I will keep away from it. Simple as that.

More people should live by that rule.

What's your writing process like?

Ihni:

Uuuuuuuugh.

That's an interpretation of my writing process.

No, but.

I usually get SUPER INSPIRED to write a specific scene, or concept... and THAT part goes well, but then I have to build a STORY around it, and that takes SUCH A LONG TIME and SO MUCH EFFORT!

And also, usually, it gets out of hand.

I usually have to force myself to get the words in, honestly. And also, I get real tired of what I'm writing, real fast. So I have to force myself to finish (I have a few WIPs that are more than a year in the making...) before moving on to other things. (And I usually write the other things inbetween, anyway.)

I get easily distracted, when I write. Like, actually sitting down and writing takes an hour and a half. Then I MIGHT write for like twenty minutes, lol.

Cold Turkey Writer was a godsend XD.

If I have internet on while I'm writing, not a lot will be written, let's just ... let's just say that.

How do you edit?

Ihni:

HAHAHAHAHAHAA

Erm.

Well.

Sometimes, I read through it once, and change a few things, and let that be it.

In a couple of cases, for the longer ones, I have actually made an effort to read through it more than once. (The problem being that by then, I'm so sick of it that I will skim through it just to get it over with.)

A couple of times, a friend has read through it for me, and given me pointers. Which is VERY HELPFUL! But they've offered to do it for me, I would never ask it of someone.

And about the editing process ... I check for spelling mistakes, or when something sounds wrong, or looks wrong ... and then I fix it, so it looks and sounds better in my head. I don't know. That's editing, right?

What fanfic authors do you admire?

Ihni:

In the Harringrove fandom, I have to mention LEMONLOVELY, because I'm in love with the way she writes Billy, and the way she's shaping her fics as she goes, and the way her attention to detail brings a whole mood (I am OBSESSED with her "Words Left Unsaid" fic, and am probably that fic's biggest fan).

LYMRICKS, because fucking hell, they sure can write a fic that draws you in. There's something about long sentences in combination with short sentences that really makes them easy to read, and the language is like a punch to the gut, at times.

CALLIEB, because I love their stories and I'm currently following "Second Thoughts" and I love how they write everyone like ... like they're holding their breath, waiting for something.

And I'm not even gonna mention any others by name because I'm terrible with names and I'm bound to forget someone and I'm just, I don't want to do that. Our fandom is full of talented writers, and I just. If I've commented on your fic, I read through all of it and I liked it. If I haven't - well, I HAVE been writing more lately = less time to read, and I have like 100 fic tabs open on all of my devices ... I hope to get there, some time!

In other fandoms, let me mention PeaceHeather (for how they write Loki and that world), aloneintherain (such good whump!), isaDanCurtisproduction (the absolute best Spideypool!) and gaelicspirit (who writes lovely angsty whumpy Musketeers fics). Like. Just to mention 0.01%, or something.

I don't think any of them, particularly, have impacted my style - because I don't HAVE a style - but I soak up every word of every fanfic I ever read, and if one sentence is a particularly pretty string of words, I will copy & paste it into a word document that is now 170 pages long, or screenshot it to keep it forever. ❤️

Words. <3

What's your favorite story of yours?

What's your least favorite story of yours?

What's your favorite line you've ever written?

Ihni:

Like, in what SENSE? Even though I know my writing isn't up to par, they're still my babies. Still my creations. I love them in different ways! Like. I love "Coming Back" because it was the longest I had written back then, and it's probably the one I am most pleased about, writing-wise, and it's also the one I went through and edited the most. So it feels like the one I worked the most on.

I love "Toy Soldiers" because it was a totally self-indulgent piece of writing that I wrote for the joy of it, and because I wanted to read it and no one else was about to write it for me.

I love "About Apologies" because something about it pleases me, it was an experiment that didn't fail, and I like it more and more with time.

I love "Less of a mistake, more of a miscalculation" because I had fun while writing it, and it turned out kind of like I wanted it to, plot-wise.

I love "Actions and reactions", because I had no idea what I was doing back then, but I still did it, and somehow it got long and I still don't know how that happened.

And I realise that this makes me sound a little self-centered, but I worked hard on them. I love them, even if they're my ugly and imperfect babies. And even if I cringe if I re-read certain parts XD

I guess my least favorite story of mine (and I'm guessing we're talking Stranger Things things here?) is "Not unusual" because a) I never re-read it and b) it was the start of something that I have to actually FINISH at some point and ugh, that was not the original plan. If we're talking least favorite stories in all fandoms, then definitely "In which there are mistakes made", which was a Teen Wolf fic, and the reason why I don't do WIPs anymore. The last chapter was written simply to fucking END it, and ugh, I hate it.

The favorite line I've ever written ...? I don't know. Are we talking in fic? Because I write my best stuff in comments, honestly. :p I don't think I have an answer for that one, actually. Sorry :S

What part of writing is easiest for you?

What part of writing is hardest for you?

Ihni:

Easiest? Dialogue. I like dialogue. Like, as a non-English speaker I can at least imagine a plausible exchange of words, and banter, and make it sound somewhat realistic, I imagine.

Hardest? The rest. Like, some people are just fucking WIZARDS with words, can write these long descriptive sentences that perfectly sets the mood for when a character gracefully moves across the room ... whereas I am just, "He stood up and walked over. End of fucking story."

What do you do when you're struggling for inspiration?

Ihni:

Give up?

Or do something else.

Or go and read. (That's basically the same as giving up.)

Or, if I'm still writing, I go to another part of the story and write THAT, and hope that I'll feel like connecting the two pieces, later.

Inspiration is a bitch.

Who introduced you to fandom and when?

Ihni:

Oh god. I am old. I don't remember.

I started writing stories when I was real young, and I was always reading something. I started writing stories with my friends when I was a teenager. Then we discovered the internet (yes, this was around the time when we got internet access in school and at home, told you I was old!) and when doing that, I guess we found more like-minded people.

Fanfics ... weren't an organized thing, back then. But I've been reading them, and been in fandoms, ever since I discovered that there were people online who liked the same things that I liked.

I would say, actively, from maybe around 19-20 years old? Like, that was ACTIVE fandom-ing.

What is your advice to fellow writers?

How often do you jump between fandoms?

How long have you been writing?

Ihni:

As a WRITER, I am not the best person to give advice to writers, I think. I'd rather TAKE advice than give it, at this point.

As a READER, my advice is to WRITE, WRITE, WRITE, because you are doing a good thing and you are creating a version of a world that is yours, versions of characters that you can shape into anything, and SOMEONE out there will love you for it (probably me).

I jump between fandoms ... hmm, as a WRITER? Seldom. Billy's my jam and I'm not moving.

As a READER? All the time. I mean, I'm pretty deep into Harringrove and Billy and Stranger Things, but sometimes I need something light-hearted, and then I go back to some of my basic fandoms, and read something else. I will never run out of things to read.

❤️

And how long have I been writing? FOREVER. I wrote when I was young, and thought I was going to be an author (wrote in Swedish, back then). Then I wrote when I was a teen, for fun. Then I stopped writing. Then I started writing rhymes, in English, because it was a craft I could do and train in, and it was short pieces. And only in recent years (very recent), have I started writing fics. And now, I write long-ass fics in English, so I guess I have at least come a long way!

Why do you write?

Ihni:

...

I just sat and stared at the screen for a good ten seconds.

I'd say that it differs.

Sometimes, I write because I want to READ something and no one has written it (or is going to).

Sometimes, I write because I want a very specific thing or feeling, and it doesn't exist yet.

Sometimes, I write because I am inspired.

Sometimes, I write because I want to.

Sometimes, I write because of a deadline.

Sometimes, I write because there's something in my head that Won't Leave Me The Fuck Alone until I get it out.

Sometimes, I write for fun.

Sometimes, I write because I want to hurt.

Sometimes, I write because I need to.

Sometimes, I write because I want to become better at it; learn; reach towards the writers whose work I love.

And sometimes, I just sit and stare at a document, don't write a single fucking word, and go watch a movie instead.

#talkingamongstourselves #ihni

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alukaforyou · 4 years

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and ALSO sry to post bs on main im mostly just talking to myself in my personal tag half the time so yolo, no need to respond to this or reassure me or whatever but these days i licherally question how much of my - sry to sound like a broken record - bs is dépression or just my shité mentality, like i rly was not designed to last, huh? physically or mentally? lol. like who gets motion sickness on swings lmao anyways. i think i give up too easily. theres a bunch of reasons y but i dont feel like saying. its a different thing to kind of kno something, and to admit / speak it (confront it). i could psychoanalyze myself all day and tell u exactly why some things are the way they are but its too unpleasant to neatly state stuff like that u kno?? like... *i kno* but im not gonna say i kno. anywho, i digress. so i give up easily and kind of have a defeatist mentality too, its so exhausting lool. actually its weird cuz duality of man, i'll be rly determined / stubborn abt doing some stuff and not care abt fear of failure with certain things but when it comes to My Life / My Future i just think i cant rly do anything? i mean that literally like i got no skillz *laugh crying emoji* not particularly good at anything, and art - the only thing im maybe arguably ok at - i dont wanna do as a career, that is art therapy for me i dont feel like commercializing it. not interested in working in my major, maybe things wouldve been different if i went to culinary or cosmetology school?? that sounds fun. or if i majored in bio cuz i was so good at that, or even if i majored in japanese language or literature or idk. but no regrets tho cuz i learned a lot abt drawing in art school which i can use for myself. and hmm i like staying home and not rly going out of my way to meet new ppl so connections what? i h8 hearing how most opportunities come through the ppl u kno cuz its true and ik like 10 ppl tops so hm very sexi of me :^) i just feel like im p much f*cked and it rly doesnt help that i have no functional dreams, goals, or aspirations nor the confidence and drive to work towards anything so ah ok cool. u kno suga's songs "the last" and "so far away" ? that p much sums up my feels minus the part abt having to deal w fame obviously LOL. its so easy being a student (for me at least) but being a good student isnt really worth a whole lot in the """""real world""""" and the current education system doesnt even rly prepare u for reality or w.e like Deep Sigh also the political climate rly lookin like shité out there like hmmmmm do i even wanna try so hard to be here anymore tho??? also going back to the self confidence thing, ya idk her LOOOOL like it doesnt very much bother me tho? i really, honest to god have no idea what my redeeming qualities even are. being nice? and my mindset re - tolerance and compassion for others, etc, ya im rly proud of that actually but besides that i mean like what can i Do tho like hm im not particularly good at anything also im hideous like uglee but thats ok too like none of this Bothers me, thats just literally how i Am so ok fine, but i feel like it makes it hard for me to exist in the world i happen to be in??? and i realize im speaking with a huge bias here cuz my brain is totally out of whack im p sure if some1 saw me / read this they would lit be like um u literally do not have it hard girl, which is fair ur kinda right actually from an objective pov, probably? its amazing how um. hard? of a time my brain is having given my relatively ok circumstances but thats just how it is ig. and if i may quote shakespeare - o full of scorpions is my mind. and its weird cuz duality of man - i actually have a lot of good times w friends and whatever i have a lot of fun, im not even very Sad or in Agony its all very a mild? sensation? but that might be because my plan b is to simply *** so nothing rly fazes me anymore lool.

its usually a v confusing emotion, im either feeling happy, or if not that, very ???? im literally that duwang quote get a feeling so complicated its just "ajdjsjsja" idk its not overly repulsive and upsetting im like :s LOL u kno wat at this point idek what im even saying anymore but its good that im writing whatever cuz im gonna need to look back on this later and organize my thoughts for presentation cuz remember i have a s.o now???? i wanna let them kno so we r on the same page, and i dont feel like im tricking them, i thought it over more and there are like 4? major cards i wanna lay out on the table early on and they are 1. im not that close w my family emotionally so do not seek their approval or expect to deal with them much. 2. personal ideology / political views like im bi lmao and pro lgbt if that wasnt obvious also i dont rly wanna be around racists / terfs etc and if ur right wing or not on that respect women juice uhhh bye.. 3. my weak ass mentality how i might Maybe *** in the future like no promise but errrr theres one more but its a little more negotiable and also too early to discuss so i wont mention it but i already got the first two outta the way so ya. theres the most troublesome of all, #3. the last thing i wanna do is traumatize someone that loves me (and i love back) with that kinda thing, its too late for my dear friends whom i love, sorry i didnt kno i was gonna be like this LOL yall already got attached but its a little different with my s.o cuz i feel like its not too late to uh.... stop getting as attached LMAO like dam i've known my girls for almost 10 years whereas i've only known my s.o for like a month.

and this is totally not gonna come across right but if my s.o very understandably desides to dump me id be SO RELIEVED LIKE WOOOO ok cool cuz like essentially what i'd be saying is you are getting attached to someone who's future is not as stable as other people, including u. *huge exhale* from the bottom of my heart, my bad lol. and then i probs wont ever get involved w. a s.o again, sorry to reference snk in 2020 but remember how e*win smith is single cuz he doesnt kno when he will ***? big mood. i have never acted out on my interests before but i was like ok for once lets go off the shits and do smth ooc, i uh... didnt expect for it to actually go anywhere tho so now im like ???? i shouldve thought it through more tho, like i felt low key irresponsible af and selfish and dumb for getting involved w. someone even tho i Know how I Am like...... Also i just lov being single and staying home and chilling alone lmao like i seriously...... never get loney....

ok so what was i talking abt? how the passage of time makes me nervous cuz idk how i can manage to keep up w it??? how i feel like i cant do jack shit???? that life is hard???? and maybe a bih just wants to rest? permanently?????? i think the most irritating part of all for me, like what i am most mad about at myself is that i have no dream. yikes. naruto, do u think thats sad? well yoongi said its okay, and what counts is just being happy, so i will console myself and forgive her and idk just try my best for the time being??

#.txt

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kingsofeverything · 7 years

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Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

*All answers should be about works published in 2017.

1. List of works published this year:

In the order that they were posted

Fall At My Door

Collide

Mercedes Boy

The Oldest Magic Word

With a Word (part 2 of FAMD)

Possessing All of Me (part 2 of MB)

It Had To Be You

One of Many

Stranded in a Dream

How Fast You Fall

Soft Wings

Has The Ocean Lost Its Way

Splish Splash

Don’t Want Shelter

Wasted Like A Memory (part 2 of DWS)

Just Around the Corner

Find You Home

Sweating ’Til My Clothes Come Off

Number 84

Let Me In (part 3 of DWS)

Admission

Intention

Resolution

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Don’t Want Shelter, definitely. The idea for it came to me over a year ago, and that was basically exes to lovers stuck in a hurricane together. I tried to write it earlier in the year and scrapped it. It was a completely different story and they were actually exes, but it just wasn’t working. RIP those 10k words. But I set out to write something with more emotion and I wanted to write something different and I feel like I succeeded. I’m very emotionally attached to their characters in DWS too. It’s been hard to get my head out of that universe.

I’m putting the rest under a cut because this got really long.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Soft Wings. It was soooo hard to write at that time. I was just struggling to write anything at all and every single word of that fic was a giant pain in my ass. It was a bday gift and I actually decided not to do gift fics anymore because of how hard it was to write. The last gift fic I wrote was DWS and it was like 2 months late-- sorry about that @justafatbirdonaboat <3

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

So, this was actually difficult and I would rather include the sex scene I mention below in question 7, but it’s long and... it’s smut and I feel like dropping it in here with nothing leading up to it or after it takes a lot away from it. This is from DWS:

If he keeps himself busy enough, which he’s fairly successful with, he doesn’t have time to think about Harry and how once again he practically laid himself bare for absolutely no reason. It’ll fade, he knows that, but at the same time he doesn’t want it to. It’s how he finds himself going out of his way to some specialty store to find Harry’s organic cinnamon toothpaste. It’s why he bought some fancy vanilla candle for his bedroom. He’s fighting with himself over trying to forget and wanting to remember, because he knows that eventually it’ll be gone no matter what he wants. The toothpaste will be empty and the candle will burn down, and it’ll all become a distant memory.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

i got a super long and detailed comment on FAMD from one of my favorite drarry authors and bloggers that came at the perfect time when i was feeling really shitty about writing and also life in general. it was such a surreal thing for me because i was reading the comment and it was just super lovely and the whole time i was reading it i was like OMFG and fangirling lol

all of the comments on DWS from people who read it as a WIP. they were like some sort of super fuel for me. and it was... idk a special thing for me. i’ve never done a WIP before and idk if I ever will again. it just worked out with that fic because of the chapters and betaing etc. but every time i posted a chapter and people would comment on it, it was just... idk it meant a lot that anyone would follow along, i guess.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Writing Soft Wings, so late May, and then again after I posted DWS, I struggled with Sweating ’Til My Clothes come off. That was Reason #14 and literally NO ONE wanted to write that prompt, so I took it. Mainly though, my struggles have been with fics that either I’ve abandoned (the old version of DWS) or my unfinished sci fic au.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

i feel like everything i write surprises me. i’m constantly shocked that i write anything at all. i think that most of dws was surprising to me. i had a vague idea of what i wanted their personalities to be like, but the way they ended up was so much better than i thought they’d be. I MEAN, i legit thought that the entire fic would take place over 3 days and would end when the storm ended! and then the storm ended and i was like... wtf i’m not anywhere near finished with this. and then a scene specifically, umm... there’s a sex scene in ch 7 of dws that ended up being wayyyyyyyyyyy more emotional for me to write and it still makes me sad to read it. and i’m like 99.999999% sure if you’ve read that fic, you know what i’m talking about. i wrote that and immediately was messaging nic like “i’ve made myself sad with smut! what is wrong with me?”

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i’m much less messy, though i’m still messy. i think i was easier on my beta this year. less cliche (unless i’m cliche on purpose) and better at getting the emotions across? I DON’T KNOW @louandhazaf is better at this stuff. she answered a different question about this earlier in the year actually.

wait. also. i think i’m better at conceptualizing a story BEFORE i start writing. i still suck at it, but not as badly as last year.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

i’d like to write another long fic. i’d like to get better at developing secondary characters. i’d like to write more emotion into my fics. i’d love to be better at outlining and planning fics, but idk if that’s who i am lol

tbh i’d like to be better at the part of writing that, up until this point, and to a certain point, come naturally to me. i don’t think about my character’s motivations or what they’re separate stories are or backgrounds and shit like that until i’m writing and sometimes i do it and don’t realize i’m doing it? i guess? I DON’T KNOW. coming from a math background and never having written or even taken a creative writing class or anything like that, like... some of the most important aspects of writing, i have no clue about them. at least that’s how i feel. a lot of what i do is just................. like me flying by the seat of my pants.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

this is my answer from last year and i’m just going to leave it because it’s still true.

NIC @louandhazaf my friend and forever beta. one day we’re going to take over the world. just depends which one of us is in charge of the brain that day as to whether it’s for good or evil.

however, i’ll add to this a bit. nic is the best cheerleader and beta and all of that. bouncing ideas around with her is always fun and always productive. we laughed so hard when we were talking about ideas for DWS. like... i think we both laughed so hard we cried.

having writer friends -- so all of you -- has been such a positive thing for me. knowing that we all sort of go through the same shit makes it easier when it’s my own lol.

specifically, i’ll say that @phd-mama influenced me with her fic ‘feels like coming home’ because i read that fic and when i finished i decided that i needed to write something with more emotion behind it, something with a really great (though not necessarily good) back story. the history between her characters in that fic..... idk a lot of it hit home for me. and because of that fic, i wrote DWS. so, thanks <3

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

ummmm... yes. let’s just say.......... yes.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

yes! write what makes you happy, even if that means writing something sad and depressing. but also try to challenge yourself to write things you’re not used to or things you haven’t done before. also, just write. you can edit later. put words down.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

my near misses fic, which is what i’ll call it until i title it, that i am super excited about (this one just came to me yesterday)

moodboard fic - it’s anon, so i can’t say anything other than that. i started it, but i think i’m going to start over.

2 time stamps for ‘don’t want shelter’. one that takes place the summer they’re 13, and one that takes place between chapters 8 & 9, but before ‘let me in’

my sci fi au - it’s been kicking my ass for most of this year

i have a fic idea where they go from friends to lovers, but it’s a long long road to get there. idk if i’ll get to it. it would be loooong.

i want to do a valentines fic but idk if i’ll have time. i’d like my near misses fic to be for valentines, but that’s a lot of pressure on me and then on my beta.

28 proposals with jess @someonethatsfunny and if we want to do it for an advent fic for next year, i need to at least write a proposal per month.

i want to do the new relationship travel the world fic with nic @louandhazaf that we’ve talked about co-writing, but we both have so much going on.........

oh and the tiny penis fic series. which is 5 short fics that are not connected, but one of them has a tiny penis in each fic (it switches around and also maybe they both do in one fic)

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

I would like to tag all of my writer friends, sooo you’re all tagged. Also, this is more than 3, but idc

@dinosaursmate @allwaswell16 @letsjustsee @gaycousinlarry @goodmorningtoyouuniverse @assisreal (writing or art, saori! or both!) @prettytruthsandlies @someonethatsfunny @phd-mama ok i’ll stop tagging so that y’all will have people you can tag lol

#*#2017 writing self-evaluation

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vanchlo · 7 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Twenty, “Defeat”

Hey there, everybody!!!! How has your September been so far?! I hope that school and work and life are all going great for you! I am SO psyched for Niall’s new album, his new song is such a bop! :D Luckily, I’ve had some free time from school lately to write and I made up this little beauty for you guys- haha what am I even saying LOL. On a sidenote, I’m so stoked for all of the new seasons of the shows coming back this Fall! Are there any that you guys are looking forward to? I love too many shows haha, so to name a few I’m super excited for are: Jane the Virgin, Supernatural,Riverdale, The Walking Dead and This Is Us! I’m already loving the new AHS Season, I’m crossing my fingers it won’t disappoint hehe! Thanks SO MUCH for those of you who have stuck around and waitED soooo patiently for new chapters, I know it’s been rough. You have no idea how much you guys mean to me. It kinda has been rough for me too, but I’m SO HAPPY to share this new one with you. Please let me know/message me/comment on your reblog or in the tags what you think, I LOVEEEEEE to hear what you guys think and your comments mean THE WORLD to me! Ok I’ll stop talking now, I hope that you guys enjoy and looooove this chapter!

Here’s a link if you’re new and want to read from the beginning or freshen up on old chapters! :)

Whack!

Jumping out of my seat again, I groan and look up to find the culprit. Speak of the devil, would you look at that.

“A simple ‘hello’ would suffice, you know,” I comment, pushing my hair back and glancing to the object he dropped in front of me.

“Well maybe ‘d consider bein’ that nice t’ you if I wasn’t havin’ all these problems with these files,” Harry retorts with a pained sigh, combing his fingers through his messy hair. I’m guessing somebody is getting sick of all of these meetings this week that he for once has to go to.

“What are you talking about?”

Sunday came and went, and before I knew it it was Monday. I spent the next days carrying out the tasks outlined on Harry’s list, as his notable head of hair was absent from the office due to some reason that contained the words ‘meetings’, ‘important’, ‘many’ and ‘yearly’, and without a hint as to when his return will be. I could care less about him returning to the work scene, as I’ve tucked away the happenings of the other night coated with a light haze of alcohol into a corner in my mind. But the tension and discord underneath it all is clear as ever. Too clear.

A cough racks my lungs as dust flies up into the air at me, my hands heavy with files. “Well God, sorry for disturbing your peace,” I mutter under my breath, a sneeze disrupting my vision and work a mere second later. I shift my legs, wincing at the rough carpet digging into my bare knees as I kneel in front of my desk- well in back of it. Dropping the new files I just digged out onto the stack of others, I attempt to shuffle them together into a uniform stack with them all facing the same way after I messed them up digging one out. But apparently that’s just a little too much to ask. Along with some other things.

Smack!

My shoulders jolt along with the rest of my body forward, almost making me smack into the open drawer in front of me spewing dust. “What the f-”

“Hey, ya got dat Woodman file fer me? I need t’ get my mind on somethin’ else,” a voice bites from across my desk, only scaring me more.

“Scare me much?” I retort, organizing the stack some more before giving up and gathering all of the files into my arms. “God, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“Ya got tha file I want or not?” Harry spits at me as I get to my feet and lay my eyes on all of him. Damn. Veiny hand resting on my desk, next to a tall cup of Starbucks. Good God am I glad that I’m (for the most part) past being his food-run bitch. But now that I say that, it’ll probably jinx it and make a dreaded return.

“It’s not done yet. I didn’t think you would be back . . well, for awhile. I’m working on it now.”

“I sent you an email that I wanted it done by dis afternoon,” he replies curtly, tired green eyes pricked with anger. Something I only ever used to see pointed at somebody else. Not at me. And not because of me.

“What email? I didn’t get an email saying that.”

“Well maybe ya should focus on doing yer job, than bloody organizing and dustin’,” Harry returns with a smack of his hand to my desk, making me jump before he whips around with his long curls doing something like a twirl behind him, along with his luxurious coat. A new scarlet one I’ve not seen before. “I want tha file on my desk in half an hour. Don’ you bloody test me, Holte,” he finishes from over his shoulder. But if it seemed like he said it over his shoulder that’s wrong, because you say things over your shoulder when you’re looking back at somebody and he’s not wasting another look at me. Having to look at me for the last half a minute already seemed devastatingly horrific for him.

What a bastard.

“Here’s your stupid file. I’m so sorry for the wait,” I say with mock sadness, dropping the perfect looking file the color of his new coat onto his desk, with a good old smack.

A sigh falls from his lips, but I don’t stay to see it. I hear it from over my shoulder as I make my way for his door, but it’s not soon enough.

“Ya betta watch how yer speakin’ t’ me. I don’ allow that kinda shit here,” he shoots at me, making me stop for a millisecond.

I keep going and wrap my fingers around the cool smoothness of the handle, ready to turn it when I hear him clearing his throat. A strong ‘what’ drops from my lips, but I don’t give him the benefit of turning around. “Did ya bloody hear me?” he replies, and I hum a ‘mmmhmm’ in reply. “Is that understood, Holte?” he goes on, his voice thick with annoyance and other negative things that I don’t care to make out.

I deal him another ‘mmmhmm’ before twisting the handle and getting a huge slap in the face. Well, not literally. But the sight in front of my eyes may as well be as bad that. And apparently the monster standing in front of me feels the same as her botoxed face caked in makeup creases in disgust. The feeling’s mutual.

“Oh, hey, Amb,” Harry rasps, a sweet like candy tone adorning his voice as she squeezes in past me managing to ram her shoulder against mine in the process. Yeah right like that was an accident, your tiny ass had plenty of room.

“Hey, baby,” she coos, making my eyes roll into the back of my head as I step through the door and out of their little disgusting bubble, making sure to slam the door a little too hard on my way out. It serves you right.

I may or may not hear a little jab from the other side that is clearly about me from Amber, but it doesn’t get past my walls. Making my way down the hall and back to my desk, my ears prickle with the faint hint of something else.

“Sometimes I dunno why I even keep Holte ‘round, she’s more trouble than what she’s worth,” a deep harsh sigh trickles out from underneath his door, and this time the walls around my heart are like sponge. Keeping some out, and letting others in.

Another jab is felt in my chest at a certain one of his words. More so the one he didn’t say, and what one he said instead. Holte. Not Becks.

My eyes drift along the words stamped into the screen of my computer, the words refusing to register with my mind as I deal with the temptation of my eyes rolling back into my head.

“You coming?” a voice jolts me from my daydream or whatever it was, making me jump as I look up to find who the voice belongs to.

Jennings stares back at me before raising his bushy eyebrows at me in a silent question, giving up a moment later as he walks away with his Macbook in hand and frames penned to his coat pocket. A faint ‘yeah’ falls from my lips, although I don’t know why I bother because he can’t hear me. I watch him disappear into a room, giving me my cue to get up and wake up. With a tired sigh, I stand up from my not so comfy chair, closing my laptop and grabbing my trusty pad and pen that longs to be used for the first time in weeks.

Dammit, I wish I had asked for a few more shots of espresso in my coffee this morning.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I step into the bright chatty room full of people in suits staring at their phone or laptop. I stalk off to the very back of the large noisy room where a few other people stand looking just as excited to be here. My legs had just halted when a figure blows past me, almost knocking me into the wall I stand by. My gaze hooks onto him and watches him cross the room to sit down in one of the few remaining wheely chairs surrounding the dark wooden table all of the important people surround. The surprise is little when I register the chocolatey curls and hard set features that rarely budge these days to break a smile.

Harry.

The bright lights flicker off and send us into a thick darkness, one that I welcome so I don’t have to look at him anymore. That smug look painted on his soft face and red rose-

“Alright lot, let’s get this show on the road!” Jennings announces from the other end of the table, stepping up to stand by the first slide the projector shows on the wall. Ugh, yet another meeting with all of the lawyers about this and that.

Clicking my pen on, I hold the pad out in front of me and write down the date, thinking back to the last meeting we had and how mad Harry got at me for not paying enough attention. And so this time in order to avoid his fiery wrath, I blink hard to try and wake up so I can catch every word. Oh this is going to be one long day.

The keys click and clack as my fingers dance across them, composing a reply to a client about something or other. My attention is elsewhere, coming up with all of the same old shit that I have to say, but it’s just a different day. My gaze darts across the room, watching people walk back and forth from the print room and pick up a phone here and there with not even a hint of a smile stuck to their lips. Or as my grandma likes to call it ‘people watching,’ which God knows she could do for hours on end just sitting at the shops or at the doctor’s.

“Hey!” a cheery voice interrupts, pulling my attention up and over to find smiley Asher in front of me with his hands stowed away in his pocket.

“Hey yourself. God, way to scare me.”

He laughs, eyes crinkling and dimples showing. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re awake,” he replies, freeing a hand to pluck one of the goofy pencils from the ancient mug on my desk to play with.

“Yeah, that’s debatable,” I reply, plopping my chin into my hand as my attention goes back and forth between him and the email in front of me. Glancing over it one more time, I fix an error or two before clicking Send. “But look at you, you’re certainly all bright eyed and bushy tailed today.”

“Yeah, I try. I mean somebody has got to be happy around here with Ms. Grumps here and Mr. Grumps over there,” he replies, nodding at me and then back at Harry’s office.

“Haha aren’t you funny!”

“I try,” he shrugs, making a smug face before dropping the pencil back into the mug with a soft clink. His head whips to the right suddenly, taking my eyes with him although I wish I hadn’t been so keen to look.

“I’ve already seen her too many times this week, what the hell does she want now?” I groan, hot rage trickling out of the cracks in my walls as I look at her, repeatedly wishing that she wouldn’t come any closer and just get back on that damn elevator.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I hate seeing her, I can only imagine how much more you do. She’s already a bitch to everybody, but she’s especially more bitchy to you which I didn’t know was even possible.”

“Tell me about it. She has some problem with me that I don’t know about,” I reply, lowering my voice towards the end as I look back to my laptop after it dinged, again.

I hear somebody clear their throat, and when I look up I don’t know who did it. If it was Asher, or the blonde dragon standing next to him and glowering at me.

“Is he in his meeting still?” Amber asks hastily, tapping away on her phone with fake Barbie pink nails.

“Yeah, it won’t be done until two,” I reply after bringing up the calendar and glancing at today’s agenda.

She huffs annoyingly, although every single thing she does is annoying. I don’t get how he can handle it. “Fine, tell him I’ll be in his office,” she bites back, still staring at her phone before stalking off to his hallway.

“I do not get what he sees in her,” Ash remarks once she’s out of earshot, as I follow her order and email him to let him know she’s here. “Or frankly, if there is anything to see past all of that makeup and hairspray.”

“Me too,” I comment, watching her hips sway down the hall and around the little corner as the words weigh heavy on my tongue. Gulping, I return to my computer where a bolded email sits in my inbox waiting.

The work never ends.

“So I heard something funny about you the other day.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” I answer, skimming over the email before taking bits out here and there to send to Harry. To see what he thinks. His word is final, Mr. Dictator.

“I heard you and a certain somebody got stuck in an elevator together at the Halloween Party.”

My eyes lift and I give him the dirtiest look I can muster at quarter to 2 in the middle of a Wednesday. His lips explode into a nervous laugh before he throws his hands up and pleads innocent. “What, I’m just saying what I heard!”

With a shake of my head and the slightest hint of a smile sticking to my lips, my fingers flit over the keys once again for the hundredth time today. Closing my laptop, I reach over to pluck the maroon red folder from the edge of my desk.

“What’s that for? Does it have some juicy stuff, like infidelity or murder?”

“No, stop it, you weirdo. I forgot to drop this off to Harry earlier and he’ll be pissed if he doesn’t see it on his desk when that meeting’s over. I’ll be right back.”

“Actually I have to split, too. I just wanted to come say hi and you know, give you shit about the new office rumor,” Asher replies, starting to walk away with that sly grin stuck to his lips. “Good luck with the she-devil in there, try not to get caught in her crosshairs.”

“I’ll try my damndest not to,” I say, waving at him with a small goodbye before we part ways.

With every step towards his office and towards her, my body screams ‘no’. My hand jumps on the bandwagon when I push open his slightly ajar door to find the one and only sat at his desk. God, I don’t know how she gets away with it, I know he hates when people sit in his chair. Only her, of course.

“What do you want?” she bites, looking me over oddly as she taps away on her phone. Perfect legs shown off in a tight gray dress crossed under his desk, my eyes flitting to her plunging neckline that makes me want to vomit along with the harsh whiff of hairspray I get from her long blonde curls. She sees me staring, and it only makes my cheeks hotter.

“Uh nothing, I’m just dropping something off for Harry,” I reply, forcing the words out one by one as they come out sticky. I don’t have to tell her, why does she need to know.

“Whatever,” she puffs, daring a glance at me to show me those beady snake eyes before she flips her hair and looks away as if I’m the last thing she wants to see.

Yeah the feeling’s mutual, I silent yell at her in my head as my feet drag over to his desk to lay the bulky file on the free space of his wooden desk even though my fingers ache to throw it at her and scrape up that perfectly fake face.

If only.

Ouch.

Warm red blood oozes quickly out of the invisible cut. Sticking my finger in my mouth, I suck on it with a wince and look back to the words staring at me.

Dear Ms. Holte,

Hello, I am contacting you with the interest of hiring Mr. Styles for …

Blah. Blah. Blah. Casting my eyes away, I pull my finger away and glance at it to see the bleeding is almost gone. This time I slowly and carefully flip the page of the stapled document in front of me, making sure not to give myself another stupid paper cut. As the words sink into the folds and grooves of my mind, my stomach tries to distract me with a grumble, but I ignore it and keep on reading. A string of words cling in my mind. Cheating. What about the kids. Her audacity. 28 years of marriage. With my coworker. Rubbing my temples, my attention pulls away from the thirty-page court document I’ve hardly made a dent in. Why I need to be reading this soap opera shit is beyond me, something about precedence and working with new cases of the same nature or something like that, according to Harry.

Whack!

Jumping out of my seat again, I groan and look up to find the culprit. Speak of the devil, would you look at that.

“A simple ‘hello’ would suffice, you know,” I comment, pushing my hair back and glancing to the object he dropped in front of me.

“What are you talking about? I’ve been getting the files to you on time.”

“Hardly. You got tha Woodman file t’ me at tha last minute, and now I come back from a meeting t’ see the crime scene photos missin’ from tha O’Pete’s file,” he replies, face creased with annoyance and anger. “Maybe if ya weren’t so busy chattin’ with yer friends you’d be doin’ a betta’ job and wouldn’ have bloody lost ‘em. ‘m sick of havin’ t’ put up with this shit, Holte, I shouldn’ hafta be doin’ yer work for you . . And don’ you bloody expect me t’ go an’ find those photos for you.” his words hit me like a double-edged sword, and I know that he knows that too. It’s what he intended. And what Amber intended when she ratted on me about talking to Asher.

“I had the pictures in there when I dropped the file off in your office, I promise you.”

“Sure ya do,” he responds curtly with ice held in his eyes, but he holds my gaze for a few seconds longer than I thought he would. And he softens. Just a little bit. It makes me wonder if he believes me, or what the hell he’s thinking. No, you can’t pull that card, Harry.

But my wondering changes when I see a flash of blonde and something else entirely behind him, just before a pair of arms go around his middle and some cheesy greeting pricks my ears, making them want to bleed if I have to hear that squeaky voice once more.

“Hey, I was jus’ leavin’,” Harry says, turning around and intertwining his hand with hers, forgetting he was even talking to me a moment ago. I don’t care to listen to the rest of their conversation and her nails-on-chalkboard voice, and so I go back to my emails.

But when I look back and see his rose lips puckering to plant a kiss on her lipsticked lips, I feel my insides wrench and all thoughts of the box of granola bars in my drawer go out the window. My gaze lingers for a second too long allowing me to see her look back at me and wink. A piece clicks, and now I have a ‘duh moment’.

It was her. Amber messed with the file.

There’s a long bleeeeeep. Shaking my head, I rub at my eyes and stand up from the wheely chair and the long wooden table. Dragging my feet, I pry open the door and pick up the plate of an ooey gooey cinnamon roll to bring it over to the table. I unlock my phone just as there’s a click and when I look up I find a bright smile. But I find it too hard to return.

“Hey, why the long face, Grumps?” Asher pokes, but when I look back down without a response especially one including a laugh, he hums a ‘heeeeey’.

“Sorry, today’s been too long,” I reply, poking at the soft roll with my fork.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure,” I answer, looking up to find him helping himself to a cinnamon roll at the counter where they sit in a box from the bakery. I don’t even know why I grabbed one, because I can’t stomach the idea of putting it in my mouth and swallowing.

“Hey,” he says, walking over to me and waiting for me to look up. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know . . ,” I say, plopping my chin into my hand and going back to playing with my food.

“You were fine when we talked last, did something happen between then and now?” he questions, waiting for me to answer, but I don’t. And with a sigh he says, “did something happen with Amber?”

I don’t want to and I don’t know how I do, but I nod. And then my lips part and words start pouring out. “I dug up an old case file for Harry for this new case he’s working on. It had a ton of stuff from the trial and prelim stuff- you know the usual. I left it on his desk when Amber was in there, and then he comes to me after his meeting and says the pictures from the file were missing and that I lost them. But I looked over the file before I left the basement, and everything was there, Ash. I saw the photos with my own eyes, and they were there when I put that file on his desk,” I drown on, words coming hot and fast and so does the dryness in my throat that appears out of nowhere. Come on, Becky, don’t cry now. “She took them out and did something with them, knowing that it was my job to get that file to him, and also knowing how pissed he would be that they were missing. Plus she knows full well that he already hates me, so it’s just fuel to the fire … I know it’s a longshot, but that’s the only thing I can think of, and with how much she seems to hate me it makes sense.”

“It’s not a longshot, I believe you … Did you tell any of this to Harry?” he replies, hand resting on the back of my chair as his soft eyes stay on mine.

A shake moves my head, and I tear my gaze away to look back to the roll. “No, he wouldn’t believe me. She’s his perfect little angel. He didn’t even do anything when I told him that one night how she came into his office and started screaming at me, so what would be the point now?” I answer, blinking hard and letting out a heavy sigh that gives the feeling that tears aren’t far behind. Please no.

“Becky, you have to tell him. He can’t just go on thinking that you messed up the file when it was her fault. You shouldn’t take the blame when it isn’t yours.”

“I know and I want to, but he’s back to hating me lately. I-I’m so sick of it, Ash, he treats me like shit and still expects me to answer his every beck and call. He’s so moody, and on top of that, there’s his stupid girlfriend. First, she just about harasses me and now she’s trying to sabotage me or something,” I recount to him, letting my head fall into my hands as hot tears slowly trickle down my cheeks.

“Hey hey, it’s ok. I know it’s a load of shit, but it’ll be ok, Becky… As much as I’d hate it, i-if you’re not happy here then you should find something better, than having to put up with his shit. I’m so sorry, none of this is fair at all.”

“Thanks, Ash,” I reply, voice muffled against my wet arm. I don’t know what else to say. “I don’t know what to do,” I finish, lifting my head and swiping a finger across my cheeks right as the door to the break room opens. Hurriedly wiping the rest of the tears away, I look down and away to cast the attention from me, but when I look back up I know I was too late when I see the look on their face.

“Hey, I uh- there’s sumbody on line three for you. I guess ‘s important,” the slow words fall from his lips that I can’t look at without thinking of them being on hers, and her manicured fingers running through those dark curls and along those tattooed arms.

“Yeah thanks,” I reply quietly, saying a soft goodbye to Asher before dumping my untouched cinnamon roll into the bin on my way out the door. Harry a few steps ahead of me. And my cheeks red as a tomato.

After a little while, it’s evident that he’s slowed down for me and even more so when he comes up behind me as I take a seat back at my desk. But I don’t understand. A nervous ‘hey’ is all that leaves his lips, before I interrupt him and pick up the phone with the usual greeting. I pretend not to see him falter there for a second biting his lip before stuffing his hands away in his pockets and walking off like there was more he wanted to say.

But I’d much rather talk to this stranger on the phone than to him.

“Seriously!” I groan through my teeth, itching to pick up my foot and let it swing but I resist. A heavy sigh leaves my lips and I whip around leaving the scene of the crime, or more so the disaster.

With a purpose in my step, I’m on a mission as I nearly stomp through the floor in search of that baby face and those glasses. Out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of yellow, and when I look in that direction I come up with nothing. But I’m glad.

“Hey, Matt, just the guy I’m looking for!” I exclaim, painting on a smile.

“Oh hey, Becky. What’s up?” Matt the IT guy replies, stubble evident on his cleft chin as his round cheeks bunch together with a smile. A whisper of chest hair poking out from under his checkered green button down that hugs his round shape.

“The uh printer is messing with me again.”

“I hope you didn’t kick it this time,” he quips and I laugh along with him as I follow him back to the print room.

“No, I resisted,” I reply, going along with his joke as I watch him sign into the little touch screen in charge of the printer.

Minutes pass of staring into the distance as Matt dinks around with the printer, a beep here and a beep there while I stand there awkwardly not knowing what to do. After a couple more minutes, Matt ever so kindly hands me the documents I printed and I’m back to my desk and back to staring at the dwindling list for this week. I feel the plop of my heart plummeting into my stomach when my eyes land on the next task that doesn’t have a check.

- Filing.

No, this can’t be happening, again, I tell myself although I clearly remember the last time I did it and how little I got done. I try my best to resist letting my eyes roll into the back of my head, but it’s hard. It’s a feat in and of itself. I try to recollect my breathing and myself, but it’s hard.

With imaginary weights tied around my ankles with chains, I readjust the heavy crates digging into my arms and I stop in front of his godawful door. With a preparatory breath, I juggle the weight of the full crates onto one arm as I knock on his door with the other one. Bracing myself, I stand there patiently and wait. And wait. With a sigh of relief, I twist the handle to find it open and nothing but air sitting at his desk. YES! Giving the door a little push, I let it close behind me and I walk over to the object of my nightmares. Just about.

I’ve made it halfway through the song list on my phone by the time lunch rolls around, but I haven’t even organized a quarter of these damned things. The rumbles of my stomach threaten to bounce off the walls of Harry’s office, as dark gray clouds move in on the other side of his floor to ceiling windows.

The chorus of a John Mayer song fills the room as I settle another small stack of organized files into the last to the bottom drawer, relieved but wishing it was more and not so little. An excited click! cuts into my jam session as my focus is severed from the new pile I plucked from the crates. I look up and over, fearing the worst and knowing that whatever I get won’t be good and can’t be good.

Harry doesn’t even bother a glance at me as he storms into the room looking to be on a mission himself, booking it over to his closet and that’s when I stop looking.

“Yer tha most jumpiest person ‘ve eva met, ya know that?” he rasps, the clink and clatter of the wooden hangers holding his most prized possessions mixing in with my music much to my dislike. I was hoping I could get in and out of here without having to bump into him.

“Yeah, I’m well aware,” I answer, hearing something in his tone like sarcasm, but I don’t want to mistake it and dig myself even farther than I already am. You can’t play mean one day and then go and play nice another, it doesn’t work like that.

The song ends and switches to another that I cling to as to avoid the awkwardness floating in the room, the voice of Matt Willis from Busted pouring from my phone as I try to focus on the files. But it’s hard as I feel his stare on the back of my neck, for some crazy reason I can’t put a name to.

By the last words of the song he’s gone, but it’s not soon enough. And the whole time he was behind me trying to find whatever jacket or scarf, I didn’t get even one file done. My head too wrapped up in my thoughts about him, thoughts too twisted the song couldn’t even drown out.

My hands are itching and my stomach is jumping as the seconds slowly tick away on the screen, and they’re practically ripping open the door when it bleepsssss at the zero. Getting comfy in the wheely chair at the head of the table I’ve claimed as my own, I shovel a spoonful of last night’s leftover lasagna past my lips as Netflix loads on my phone. I do that weird chew-carefully-with-my-mouth-open thing as the hot sauce and noodles try their damndest to burn my tongue. Thumbing a spot of sauce from the corner of my mouth, I tap on the next episode of American Horror Story excitedly and lean back to enjoy my break from my worst nightmare that is filing Harry’s shit built up over the last few years.

The story of the all-girl witch coven went by too fast and so did my leftovers, landing me back in Harry’s office luckily to my lonesome and listening to some random song. My head begins to hurt after looking at all of the tabs the color of the rainbow. With a sigh, I start making piles based on the color of the tabs, and I find out I suddenly hate the color green.

The rest of my day looked about the same, and so did the next day. Friday. The last day of this ever so long week. Just one more day, and then I get to have two of them all to myself. Two glorious days away from this place and away from him. And away from her, after being in her line of fire for this past week. First, the file thing and ratting on me about talking to Asher, then little things throughout the week as she made her appearance every day and made my existence more of a living hell. Stopping by my desk to ask for Harry and putting her hand down wrongly on accident and hanging up on the person I was talking to. Bumping into me out of nowhere and making me spill my coffee everywhere including all over myself.

Slowly, my courage grew as the filing seemed to get a little easier, and before I knew it I was past the halfway mark. And only a few songs left on my phone unlistened to. And my secret box of Cheez-Its giving up on me.

My finger floats across the screen, stabbing my number in before pushing the door open to leave the stuffy breakroom with cutie Evan Peters hot on my mind. With a spring in my step and caffeine once again flowing through my veins, I point my feet back to his hallway as a hum leaves my lips. A phone rings behind me from one of the cubiclers, somebody laughs and my phone dings with a new message. To this day, I still don’t really get what they do. All I can remember from my rushed tour with Harry, is something along the lines of “e’rybody ‘s pretty much assigned t’ their own department, answering calls an’ doin’ shit fer them - whether it be Financial, Real Estate, Immigration, Criminal, Personal Injury, Corporate, Med Malpractice, Family, Contracts, Civil, General or a li’l bit’o all like me.” The new text appears on my screen as I twist the handle to his door, reading the first few words of Skye’s text about going out of town for the weekend with some new guy. My eyes glance over the rest of her words as I walk into his office mindlessly

Thud!

I both feel it and hear it this time. Wondering if I ran into the wall or into one of the many pieces of furniture adorning his office, I lift my head quickly and almost jump. Again. Out of nowhere my heart begins to race, wanting to run me out of here. And I can’t blame it.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” the voice belonging to the body I just ran into barks at me. I mutter a small apology, pressing the lock button on my phone and stowing it away in my back pocket just in time to hear a ‘pft’ come from the other person in the room. The room that was empty the last time I was in here roughly half an hour ago.

“What are you even doing in here anyways?”

“I’m doing filing for Harry,” I reply to her annoyed, wishing to add in a ‘what does it look like I’m doing’, but I save it for good measure. But boy oh boy is the temptation there. “What are you doing here? Harry’s not even here today.”

“What does it matter to you. This is my boyfriend’s office, I can be here whenever I like and whyever I like,” Amber responds, adjusting her bleached curls on the shoulders of her pink peacoat. Yeah okay, I’m pretty sure ‘whyever’ isn’t really a word, but go ahead I guess.

A shallow ‘fine’ jumps from my lips as I walk back to my corner where my work sits. But I have a feeling I’m not going to get a chance to start it again.

“I thought I told you the last time that you’re not allowed in here,” she bites back, words jumping at me like knives with the way that she says them so snarkily.

“Harry said I can be here. I’m doing my job.”

“I said you’re not allowed in here, so um get out!” she exclaims, and all of a sudden I feel a pair of claws dig into my arm. Whipping my head over, I find her hand wrapped around my arm.

“Get your hand off of me,” I snap, eyes knitted together and my mouth hanging open in a large ‘O’. Ripping her hand from my arm, I step away from her still feeling the sting of her nails digging into my skin through my shirt. Wow, somebody needs to request a different style at the nail salon next time.

“Oh I didn’t even touch you,” she argues, twisting her features into a snotty look that looks too similar to her resting face. “Now get out!”

“No! I’m doing what Harry asked, maybe you should get out.”

“You’re unbelievable, I can’t believe Harry’s even kept you around with your backtalk and all of the times he complains about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sacks you sooner or later, he doesn’t even like you anyways,” she retorts with those beady dark eyes pointed at me.

For a moment I let her words get the best of me, I let myself believe what vile things she says about the way Harry feels about me. And it’s a few seconds too long, allowing her claws to meet my chest, taking the fabric of my expensive dress with her as she drags me towards the door. But it’s not so much dragging as it is throwing me onto the ground by the door, making her point loud and clear.

I land hard on my side, and crack my head on the trim on the wall at the base. Wincing hard, I find my bottom lip between my teeth and soon feel a warmth trickle into my mouth along with the unmistakable metallic taste of blood. My own blood. I swipe my thumb along my lip, pulling it away to see the whole pad of my thumb coated in red. It’s far past crying time as I slowly look up at Amber to find her stepping up to me to yank me up by the arms. With my blood seething at her hands being on me and my heart galloping away in my ears, I push at her and away from me. Her hand slips somehow and knocks her back in the face much to my pleasure, but when she straightens in a matter of seconds and looks back at me shocked with a line of red much similar to my own above her lip, I know that wasn’t good. Even though a notch in my forehead throbs with a harsh stinging to it.

“Get out!” she screams at me, pushing me out the door and almost making me fall on my face. Once again. Using my hands like a little kid to get back up on my feet, I stumble down the hallway mindlessly not knowing where I’m going until I feel my feet working against me and back in the direction I came. Why oh why.

Throwing the door open a second after it met its hinges, I stomp back into the room to find her wiping at the small beads of blood collecting above her lip. Yeah you ain’t got nothing on me. “You know, I forgot to ask just now and you know the time before that and before that, what the hell is your problem with me?!” I roar breathlessly, feeling a pain in my chest I wouldn’t be surprised at being a heart attack, or something akin to that.

“Nothing, get out of my face!”

“What, before you fucking assault me again?” I reply, wiping my mouth to find even more blood but it’s no surprise as the taste coats every millimeter of the inside of my mouth.

“Pft, ‘assault you’. Yeah right, I didn’t even touch you. And who would believe you anyways?” she snarls, a nasty smile contorting her impossibly full lips as her snake eyes dig into my skull. Her next words send chilling shivers down my spine, the coldness seeping into my chest and writhing around my heart, “I could just as easily say that you assaulted me.” And with that her long legs start to move towards me, catching me off guard to let her push me into the wall as she leaves the room. Because apparently saying ‘get out of my way’ is too much work. I see somebody has a hard time using her words.

The click clack of her heels on the tile floor drill into my throbbing head, and only when they start to become faint and then disappear altogether do I stumble out of his office and down the hallway mindlessly without an idea as to where to go. If I go onto main and back to my desk, people will notice and stare at the gash spewing blood on my lip. And they’ll stare even harder and maybe even laugh- definitely laugh when they see me sobbing, because I’m hardly out of his hall and I feel my throat starting to dry up like the Egyptian desert.

My legs feel like those Jell-O cups you’re given in the hospital after having a surgery. Wobbly, unpredictable and threatening to cave at any second. I drag my feet to the back of the hall, finding the elevator quickly and glad that for once it opens its doors within a matter of seconds and not minutes. I can’t get off the sketchy thing fast enough, welcoming the musty smell of sawdust that begins to surround me. Stumbling through the piles of sawdust, plastic tarps and pieces of wood, I finally find the bathroom at the other side of the hall, untouched from the sawdust. Slamming the door shut, I twist the lock with a satisfying click and brave myself to touch the lightswitch. But at first I can’t, because I don’t want to see what looks back at me in that mirror. The image of defeat painted all over my face with splashes of red and most likely faint blue, all because of her. My back hits the wooden door and I slide down it into a slump, feeling my chest tighten before unleashing a guttural sob. Sob after sob leaves my lips, tears flowing down my cheeks and mixing with the blood pooling on my bottom lip. My forehead pulsing with a new fervor to it, and my lip hot and prickly with pain.

Bee-o!

I don’t know why I do it or how, but I’m pulling my phone out of my pocket to find a new notification on my screen.

One new email.

I drag my thumb across the screen, opening the notification to find the name attached to the email through blurry eyes. My chest shrinks together and I skid the phone across the floor and away from me, with the name burned into my eyes.

Harry.

Because there’s no coincidence that he just so happened to email me a mere few minutes after his girlfriend just tried to beat me up, and possibly succeeded. My head throbs a little harder at the wonder of what his email has to say, and all of the possibilities it could be. I squeeze my eyes shut tight at the thought of how not one of those possibilities can be good.

She won.

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