#he’d probably write me one and i’m proposing something in his field but lol that’s embarrassing

[treecakes]

didn’t realize this deadline was approaching quickly lol SENDING EMAILS. and follow up emails. stressed out now.

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part One

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!

No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.

The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.

You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.

On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.

Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.

“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.

“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.

“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”

Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.

“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”

He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.

“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”

The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.

“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”

He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.

The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.

“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”

When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.

“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”

“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.

“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.

“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”

“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“How old are you?” you asked immediately.

“I’m 21.”

Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.

“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.

“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”

He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”

He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”

For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.

You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.

“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”

“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”

“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”

“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.

As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.

“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”

“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”

You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”

Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.

“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”

“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.

You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.

“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”

“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.

“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.

[evermoreholland]

Paper Rings | Tom Holland

summary ❥ it’s your anniversary and you propose to tom with a song.

warnings ❥ fluff

word count ❥ 2,152

a/n ❥ you can listen to paper rings by taylor swift while reading this because this is obviously what it’s based off of lol. also, this was edited by my good friend @tefilovesreading! 

Today is your second anniversary with your boyfriend, Tom. The past two years have been the best of your life by far. You have had your fair share of relationships, but Tom took you by surprise in his love for you. You were a singer and it was difficult for you to pursue relationships, but Tom understood you because he has gone through similar. You would often write songs about your experiences in relationships. You have been writing a song for Tom for a while now and you thought that today would be a perfect day to show him.

Tom knows that he wants to marry you. He can’t imagine a life without you in it. He has been thinking of how he was going to go about a proposal for months now and he realized that your second anniversary would be the perfect time to confess his never-ending love for you and his commitment to be yours forever.

Tom picked out a ring for you many months before today, without your knowledge. The two of you had talked about marriage before, so a proposal wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. Tom called your mother, sisters, and even got his own mother’s opinion about an engagement ring for you. He finally found the perfect ring to propose with.

Tom made dinner reservations at your favorite restaurant tonight. He planned to spoil you the entire day, making sure that you knew that you were his queen.

Tom rises early. He lifts the blankets off of himself and steps out of bed. He tucks you back under the cover gently, not making a sound. He tiptoes to the kitchen to make you a cup of your favorite tea. He fills the kettle with water and then places it on the stove. He turns to the refrigerator to take out some of your favorite fresh fruits as a part of breakfast. He prepares toast as well and then he sets it all up on a tray to bring to your shared bedroom. He walks to the room and finds you still sleeping peacefully. He places the tray on the bedside table beside you and then leans to kiss your forehead. You were a light sleeper so the action woke you up almost instantly. Your eyes open and you see your boyfriend preparing something besides the bed.

“Morning,” you whisper. You toss and turn until you eventually sit up. “What are you up to?”

“Happy anniversary, my love,” Tom says and sits on the foot of the bed. “I made you breakfast.”

“Thank you, love. Happy anniversary.” Tom hands you your mug of tea and you take a sip. This was exactly what you need to start your day, which a warm cuppa. “This is probably the best cuppa I’ve ever had.”

Tom giggles at your compliment and he blushes. You just have that charming effect on him. “Well you are my best girl, aren’t you?”

You smile at your lovely boyfriend. “I guess I am.”

You and Tom eat the rest of your breakfast in bed together. Tom insists on feeding you to be romantic and you hesitantly accept. After, you put on a sundress that Tom purchased for you for today; a pink flowy sundress with strawberries on it. You match it with a pair of cream color wedges.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Tom compliments when he sees you walk out of the bedroom into the living room where he was sitting on the sofa waiting for you. He’s wearing navy slacks with a light blue short-sleeve button-down shirt. His hair is gelled back, which you hated because you couldn’t run your fingers in his beautiful chestnut-colored locks. “Absolutely stunning.”

“You look gorgeous too.” You walk towards your boyfriend and take a seat beside him on the sofa. You take his hand in yours and you can feel how sweaty his hand was, but you decide not to comment on it. To be honest, you didn’t think much of it anyway. “What are our plans for the day? I have something for you, but I want to give it to you later.”

You wrote Tom a song in an attempt to propose to him, and you were hopeful that he’d say yes. Although you did like tradition, you want to pop the question to your boyfriend, and what better way to do it than what you know best; music.

“Oh, you do? What is it, love?” Tom was not a fan of surprises and for almost every occasion he would try to pry his present out of you.

“You know that I’m not going to tell you,” you reply.

“It was worth a try. I was thinking that we can try strawberry picking,” Tom says and then kisses your cheek. “How does that sound, darling?”

“Sounds wonderful, Tommy,” you mumble. You kiss him and then get up from the sofa. You hold your hand out for him and say, “Let’s go, baby.”

“Let’s do it.”

The drive to the strawberry field was full of giggles, music, and love. You get to the field and Tom opens the car door for you, as per usual. He grabs the basket from the backseat and he guides you to the field. Tom takes photos of you dancing through the field and picking strawberries. He didn’t want to forget this moment, he couldn’t forget how beautiful and ethereal you look in this moment.

You get back home and wash the strawberries that you picked. You cut some up for you and Tom to eat. You gather by the sofa once again while Tom turns on your favorite film. You pull out your phone to text your best friend, Natalie, to set up the backyard for the proposal. Natalie and Harrison knew about your plan to propose to Tom and set up a stage for your small performance.

Tom cuddles beside you after he presses play on the television. “Who were you texting?”

“Just Natalie,” you answer vaguely. You didn’t want Tom to catch on or possibly find out about your plan. “Just chatting.”

“Ok,” Tom says, not buying it completely but he didn’t push. “After the movie, we’ll go to dinner, yeah?”

“Gotta show you something first, baby.”

“Tell me what it is,” Tom groans. He nuzzles his face into your neck and kisses it. “Please spill.”

“That’s not going to work with me, Holland. Now, let’s watch the film, silly.”

“Fine,” he says.

The film passes by fairly quickly. You clean up the living room with Tom, and then you tell him to wait in your bedroom until you text him to come outside. “Why must I wait in our bedroom, darling?”

“I just want to make sure that everything is perfect first,” you reply as if it were obvious. “Please don’t peak.”

“I promise that I won’t, angel,” Tom says and then kisses you. You cup his cheek and pull him closer. Your lips linger on his for a moment before you pull away. “What was that for?”

“I just love you, alright?” You choke up a bit. Thinking about what you were about to do made you emotional. You have never been in love with someone like you were with Tom. “You mean the world to me, Tommy.”

“I love you too, darling. You’re my entire world.” Tom always knew what to say and he gives you the reassurance you need. You pull away from him and walk towards the yard.

You finish setting up everything for the proposal and set up the projector for the slideshow. As the song plays, you planned on showing a slideshow of photos of you and Tom. You send a quick text to Tom telling him to come to the backyard. You hear him come outside and soon enough, he is standing in front of you.

He notices your display. He notices the decorated deck mimicking a stage with flowers surrounding it, white roses to be exact. He notices your microphone and speaker. “What’s all this, love?”

“I wrote a song for you,” you began, but you pause to rub your hands against your dress. Nerves were building up. “For our anniversary. It explains how I’m feeling.”

You see Tom smile at your explanation. “Let’s hear it then, baby. Whenever you’re ready.”

You prerecorded the acoustics and harmonies, so you would simply just turn on the speaker to play the music. “The song is called Paper Rings. I hope you like it.”

You turn on the speaker a pop upbeat sound fills the air and you immediately feel at ease.

The moon is high Like your friends were the night that we first met Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

As you were singing, you think about the memories that you and Tom share. You remember meeting him at an outdoor pub. You were first introduced to Harrison, Tom’s best mate. They were stoned, to say the least, but it was still probably one of the best nights of your life.

The wine is cold Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street Cat and mouse for a month or two or three Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night (Oh!) Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life (One, two, one two three four!)

Tom looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world, yet he doesn’t know what your next lyrics would be. He didn’t know that you want to marry him as much as he did.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams Oh, you're the one I want

He begins to pick up on what you’re telling him, and it warms his heart. His eyes begin to water as he watches perform for him. You look very gorgeous too.

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool When you jumped in first, I went in too I'm with you even if it makes me blue Which takes me back To the color that we painted your brother's wall Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws We wouldn't be standing here so tall, so

Kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night (Oh!) Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause you waited your whole life (One, two, one two three four!)

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams Oh, you're the one I want

I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

You wrap your arms around yourself for emphasis and Tom giggles gently. He is crying at this point and you feel yourself tearing up too.

I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays Wrap your arms around me, baby boy Uh huh

You sing the chorus once more, and you begin dancing along with the music and Tom couldn’t help but smile at you.

You're the one I want, one I want

You finish off the song and you do a little bow as Tom claps for you. You walk towards him and he wraps his arms around you. “I loved that, baby,” he whispers in your ear.

You look at him and notice the tears streaming down his face. You wipe them away and say, “So?”

“So?” He repeats, not fully understanding where you’re getting at it.

“Will you marry me, baby?” You ask.

Tom smiles and instead of answering, Tom reaches for something in his back pocket. He pulls out a velvet ring box and gets down on one knee. Tom opens the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yes it does,” you giggle. “I guess that we both had the same idea.”

“It’s not a paper ring, though,” Tom says, referring to your song.

“Well, I do like shiny things,” you joke. “I’d be honored to marry you, Tom.”

Tom slips the ring on your finger and stands up to kiss you. This moment couldn’t be more perfect.

“Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lover.”

~

Tagging: @canwekissforever-hazzy @storybookholland​ @petesrparker​

[peralta-guaranteed]

Wishing I could read something about Peraltiago talking about how they feel on all Teddy's proposals to Amy. They are really akward, uncomfortable moments and Teddy really crosses the limits every single time, and wish we knew more on their takes about it. Once I read a fic about Jake sending Rosa to stop Teddy and take care of Amy but it just not the same.

lol I have a fic on that topic exactly - I have a proposal for you - where I had the cathartic experience of writing about Rosa breaking Teddy’s hand for being so awful, but I agree with you, Teddy reappearing in the show is so uncomfortable each time ugggh. I thought the wedding one was the worst but then he shows up literally fathering a child with someone else and still does it, disgusting.

So maybe take this as taking place before that fic of mine, where Jake does mention how bad Teddy's proposals make them feel!

Jake can tell, just from the simple drop of her purse in the hallway, that it wasn't a good day.

Weird, how it's these tiny things that he's learned to read instantly - or maybe not, given that he's a detective trained to focus on details others would overlook, and being unable to stop the habit when it comes to the most important people in his life.

She tries to be all smiles when she comes into the living room, though, where Mac is happily rolling around in his playpen while Jake is folding laundry on the couch, the very picture of domesticity as she leans over the pen to kiss their squealing, giggling little baby. The view of her in one of her old pantsuits instead of her Sergeant's uniform is already making his hearts do little leaps even before she makes her way over to Jake for their customary Welcome Home kiss.

"How was that inter-department meeting today?" He asks as she shrugs off the suit jacket and continues her pace into the kitchen, setting aside a set of Mac's bibs that can't be folded anyway.

"Okay." She replies, and that's enough to make him abandon the laundry alltogether and follow her (one eye on Mac, of course, but he's not even crawling yet, and couldn't roll himself into any danger on his foam-based playmat - probably). It's rare that she doesn't have at least one inspiring, 'interesting' or just generally informative story to share from her meetings, the only person in probably all departments looking forward to them.

She's staring into the fridge when he reaches the room and leans against the counter, trying to gauge her level of upset. From the raised shoulders and the fact that she doesn't need to check the fridge to know they were going to order Chinese tonight, he guesses it's at a solid 8, at least.

"Teddy was there." She mumbles into the cold, bright space in front of her, and Jake's shoulders tense up just as much as hers even as he tries to sound as chill as possible.

"How is he?"

"Still extremely boring." Then, after a pause. "Still hung up on me."

So much for chill.

"Did he propose again?"

She nods and sighs, her shoulders dropping as she closes the fridge, but doesn't turn toward him.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." She says through gritted teeth, suddenly. "He has a child with someone. He has a wife. How can he look at them and turn around and-"

Mac's little happy cooing from the living room interrupts her, as do Jake's arms as they wind around her middle, his chin dipping into the space between her shoulder and her neck.

"That's probably a question only a therapist could answer, babe."

Amy sighs as she leans back, falls into the warmth and support of her own husband, the father of her child that she can hear happily babbling to himself from a room over, and wonders some more how Teddy could ever think he would be a better option for her.

"He wasn't like this when we were dating." She muses, and feels Jake's kiss against her jaw - a reflex action she's noticed whenever she mentions a past partner or anything, frankly, that reminds him that there was a point where he wasn't Jake Peralta-Santiago yet. But she kind of needs to finish this thought, and she knows he can handle it. "He was nice and kind and he wouldn't- he wasn't manipulative, pulling something like that in public, or deluded enough to think he was in the right for it. I mean, he thought he was pretty great, but he wouldn't have -"

"You musta broken something pretty major in his brain when you left him." Jake's voice is joking, luckily, but she can sense a hint of something more. "The absolute devastation of a Santiago break-up speech, rehearsed or not."

"Harsh, Jake."

"Remember manbun musician? He went downright insane after your split - not that he was probably the sanest person around before that, but-"

"You promised we'd never mention him again."

"I'm just saying. I don't think any man left by you is going to be completely right in the head after that."

"You're making me sound like some black widow monster." She smiles, though, hearing the awe and affection in his voice bleed through.

"I'm not judging those guys, anyway." He continues, and that tinge of something else in his words is back. "I mean, I can't imagine what I'd be like if you ever decided to take Teddy up on one of his proposals."

She straightens up from her lean on his chest, twists in his arms without breaking the hug, and stares right into him as she studies his face - his actually slightly scared face.

"Jake, you know that's not ever-"

"I was joking babe."

"No. Jake. That's not even an option. Not even an idea. Never. Not in a million years. Not if-"

She grabs his shirt where it's unbuttoned, right next to his heart, and his hand reaches up to squeeze hers like it always does, thumb swiping along her rings.

"I know, Ames." The soft kiss that follows calms her just as much. "I cashed out that jackpot and I'm not giving it back."

She hums as she kisses him again, leans her forehead against his for a deep breath.

"It's just... sad." She returns to her original train of thought. "That he can't move on despite his life doing so. I mean, it's been years. He's got a new job and a new partner and a new baby, and he's willing to, what, dump all that? For me? For that idolised image he probably has in his mind of me now, because nothing between us has been real since ages ago?"

"Wow, this is really bugging you."

"Yes! He's barging into my life and thinking he knows what's best for me and that it's him, like I'm some love-struck silly dreamgirl who's going to drop her entire world because he's romantic enough to go down on one knee in front of our colleagues and superiors who have no idea what's going on-!"

Mac's noises from the next room turn from content to disagreeing, growing into what is sure to be a cry any minute now, and it's the only thing that can make them break apart from their hug. He calms down immediately when Amy lifts him out of his pen, and holds him close while she settles on the sofa next to the half-done laundry basket, snuffling against her chest in a very obvious I’m hungry mom couldn’t you tell?! move before she can even unbutton her dress shirt.

He latches on immediately when her shirt is open and her bra pulled down - not a nursing bra today, considering she got ready for an important work meeting - while she feels Jake rearrange the pillows behind her and to her side to get her comfortable, without a second of hesitation or having to think about it. He moves on to pick up the jacket she's dropped onto a dining room chair, drapes it on a hanger in the hallway, and she feels the soft prick of tears in her eyes before he settles down again next to the two of them with a glass of water for her set on the coffee table.

Jake only hums as he notices the shine in her eyes too, and wipes across her cheek. He knows that nursing can get her into a pretty emotional state sometimes, but this is probably a bit more than that.

"I love you." She says, and barely waits for his return of I love you too to continue. "I can't believe Teddy expects me to look at Mac, and look at you, and still think he could ever be a better offer for anything I want."

"Aw, babe." He grins softly in return while playing with Mac's foot that is kicking in his direction, covered in the fuzziest green socks with red apples on them. "You scored a pretty dope 2-for-1 deal with us, I admit."

“Before that, too.” She insists, leaning to unlatch Mac and hand him over to Jake to burp as they always do while she buttons back up, thinking about Teddy’s many proposals before Mac was even planned on. “Jake, you know that, right? You alone were the best deal first and foremost.”

He smiles at her, Mac’s soft little curls right next to his cheek as he sways and pats his back, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Jake-”

“You were happy with him.” He says, quietly, while Mac lets out his usual milky burp and smiles at him much wider when he wipes him clean with the linen cloth pulled from his shoulder. “I know it’s in the past and I - I’m not jealous or anything that stupid, but. Like you said... He wasn’t like this back then, and you were happy.”

His eyes seem forlorn, even as he smiles at the now sleepy baby in his lap that looks so much like him it always makes her heart twinge, that little bundle of joy with Amy’s dark hair and skin that seems to know the Cuban sun without ever having been there.

“And I know it’s not - and it doesn’t make sense to think about, but - sometimes his stupid proposals made me wonder what would’ve happened if he’d done that while he still made you happy.” His voice turns low, and it’s probably not just to avoid waking Mac back up as he falls asleep. “And that just makes me think about how I had to watch you be happy with him, and that’s not - that’s never a good memory to revisit, honestly-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes.” She leans over into his field of vision, the most serious look on her face. “Even back then, I wouldn’t have said yes to his proposal.”

Jake’s eyebrows scrunch up in question, his eyes turning into those puppy dog eyes that she knows as a direct hit to her heart when he’s actually sad or worried, and she can’t not hold his face in her hands again.

“Yes, I was happy with Teddy for a while, but looking back at it I realise I was- there was always this feeling of waiting for something. Hoping for something to be different.” She kisses him, careful and short and barely there, but enough to make him close his eyes and lean towards her a bit more. “And maybe back then I thought I was waiting for him to change somehow, but really I was only waiting for him to change into you.”

“Teddy couldn’t change into me if he had major brain surgery.” Jake scoffs, and Amy huffs a laugh with him.

“Yeah. And that’s why he’d never been right for me. That’s only ever been you.”

He finally, properly smiles now, eyes open again and set on her with a soft shine to them before he leans over more, as much as he can without waking the deeply asleep baby in his lap.

“I’m glad you figured that out when you did, in the end.” He quips and earns himself a shy nod. “And said yes when it came to the only good proposal you got.”

She snickers at that, thinking about the gaudy but wonderful boxing belt in her mementos box, and leans in the last few inches she needs to kiss him again, neither careful nor short this time, but equally as soft. 

“And the next time I catch Teddy trying to propose to you again I’m going to punch him out before he can even get down on one knee.”

“You are not assaulting a fellow officer.”

“Kick in the balls?”

“How very mature, Mister-I-have-an-actual-child-now.”

“Can I at least tell him where he can stick his ridiculous ideas of marrying you at any point in the future, no matter the circumstances?”

She hums for a second.

“You can. If you add in how ridiculous the idea was in the past as well.”

“Oh now, that’s a good deal.”

[princess-havok]

Love Fast Los Angeles readthrough: Chapters 38-42

I told you I was gonna wrap this thing up this week and goddammit I will!

I realized I don't remember if I actually mentioned that both Mythicals died a while back? Like... that just happened, and it fueled Al's hatred of Jamie (one OD'd and Jamie wouldn't call 911; the other committed suicide after that) and then was more or less never mentioned again? At least everyone in this book only seems to exist in their relationship to Al and not, like, as independent fleshed out characters lol.

So anyway, Al's back in Hollywood at the Roxy at Jamie's album launch/film premiere. He's under the impression that Sky is going to dump Jamie live on stage during the encore even though she came there with him and has been hanging out with him all night. He cannot be swayed in his belief.

He also remains oblivious to like, anything going on around him, like the mysterious masked man in VIP with him and The Barbie yelling about "You loved me first" when Jamie asks Al to come on stage and 'document' the moment.

Anyway, 'the moment' is not Sky dumping Jamie, but Jamie announcing that she's pregnant, which Al doesn't even have proper time to react to, because immediately afterwards someone starts shooting at the stage. An interesting choice given that this book came out not even 2 years after the Bataclan shooting in Paris but like, I'm not gonna say you can never write about something because it happened in real life but I do wonder how close to that event this part was written, y'know? Although it's clearly not the same scale at all so this is probably not worth mentioning OH WELL.

Al grabs Sky and The Barbie (and Jamie tags along I guess) and bails out the back doors to his car. There's literally a car chase between Al and a mysterious Porsche Cayenne. Al thinks it's one of his pap friends because he always does but Jamie recognizes the driver -- Jon Golden, aka Sky's father, aka Uncle Noah. This dramatic reveal is punctuated by a standoff where Al nearly shoots him with the gun he gave him and has Sky and The Barbie playing angel and devil on his shoulders, Sky telling him to shoot and The Barbie telling him not to.

Uncle Noah ends up shooting Jamie instead, because he's the one he'd been ranting about 'you loved me first' and hey how gross is it that now there are two people who were effectively Uncle Noah's sugar babies and then hooked up with his daughter!!!

Anyway, everybody flees the scene, Al and Sky end up in some motel outside of town, he's ditched his car and gotten his motorcycle back. She claims she lied to Jamie about being pregnant and is now going to stay with Al, but when Al goes to the diner (and has a really weird and kind of pointless interaction with two cops, but also maybe a hallucination? idk I don't get that scene AT ALL), Sky disappears and Al finds himself relieved.

There's some really interesting ideas in the ending here that I actually really like. The landline in the room keeps ringing, and Al doesn't answer for a while because he assumes it's Sky and he doesn't want to talk to her, but!!! back when he was hiding out at the beach house in Malibu there was another landline that kept ringing, and it was The Barbie trying to get in touch with him, and I can't help but think THOSE TWO THINGS ARE RELATED, MAYBE.

When he finally does answer the phone, he never says who it is but it's a woman, he's happy to hear her voice, and wants to tell her he has something for her (the ring) and is going to give it to her in Disneyland 'whether she likes it or not.' The Barbie had scoffed at his plan to propose to Sky at Disney because she hates it, ALSO UNRELATED maybe?

He makes promises to work on his shit, and their shit, and she says 'we should do this in Hollywood.' Then the book ends with 'There's no way I'm letting her go now. No fucking way."

So, the ambiguity here is actually pretty cool. It seems that Sky is the only one who knows where he even is, and he says 'I love you hard' which is what he said to her, plus there's the ring, and him asking where she ran off to. But he was so relieved when she left, so a sudden about face like that would be kind of poor writing. The left-field option would actually be Star, when he promises to work on 'our shit', but he's also barely mentioned her since he left San Francisco at the beginning of the book and he's a very out of sight, out of mind person -- he was almost over Sky when he was in Malibu and sleeping with Cherie. The only constant through that was option 3, which I think I've been clear is who I think was on the phone, The Barbie. There've been just enough hints that she's in love with him, that she's sad about his plans to propose to Sky, that it makes the most sense. Like, I'm sure that's what we're supposed to get out of it but I do appreciate the ambiguity.

And that's that on that!

Over all, I think this book is more coherent and less cringey than Pop Kids, but I would love to see Davey grow as a writer and have like one character with their own ideas and motivations that have nothing to do with the POV character, because that's very much missing here (and in Pop Kids, but it made so much sense there because Score is so self-centered and oblivious to everything that isn't him).

Thanks to the like, three of you who read these and follow along lol.

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Hidden in Plain Sight (3)- Tom Holland X Reader

A/N: This story is fun to write, but school is taking over little by little so sorry if this gets delayed more than I mean for it to be! Enjoy Chapter Three!

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Swearing? Maybe? To be honest I can’t remember if I swore or not but knowing me I probably did. But there is mention of a killer moth so if that’s as trigger as it was when it was flying around my room then I’ll mention it here.

You had the absolute worst day. You were hoping it was going to be a good day since you had put on one of your favorite outfits to wear to work. But as soon as you got to work, everything turned into a shit show. A project you thought was finished didn’t save the last days edits, your boss got on you for something that was your coworker’s responsibility, and someone ate your lunch, which you’re not entirely sure how that happened, but it did. Add to it you have the start of what you think is a migraine, the last thing you want to do is anything work related, but because you’re behind on the project that is due tomorrow, you’ll probably be up all night working on it before going in tomorrow to continue working on it at the office. So heating up some soup to eat while you work, you decide to scroll through Tumblr while you wait for it to heat up. 

The news of Spider-Man, and therefore Tom Holland, staying in the MCU still hasn’t died down, which let’s be honest why should it? It’s fantastic news. Out of all the Spider-Mans, Tom’s portrayal of it is your favorite and you would be so sad to see him taken from Marvel just because Sony, Marvel and Disney couldn’t come to an agreement on things. It’s only been a couple days since it was announced, but you wouldn’t be surprised if this was talked about for weeks at least. You reblog a couple of photos, adding some of your usual hashtags. Honestly, you want to be distracted by asks, but you know that the likelihood that people will respond is low, plus you shouldn’t let yourself be distracted by Tumblr when you have the project due tomorrow. 

Hating seeing notifications, you click on the second icon from the right on the bottom of your screen. You clear off the notifications from reblogs and likes but notices your app is still showing a notification, on the messages side. It’s probably just from one of your friends. You flip over to the other screen and see a message from none other than Tomholland2013, who you’ve been messaging on and off over the past couple of days, ever since you sent him that edit.

You haven’t been super active on tumblr lately. Everything ok?x

Been super busy at work lol. Big deadlines coming up.

You don’t expect to get a message back since you figured from your messages where he mentioned he was in the early hours of the day while you were only in the late afternoon, that he was probably asleep since you got home later from work than you had planned. So you set your phone aside as you pull the broccoli cheddar soup from the microwave. However, you’re pleasantly surprised to see a message waiting for you when you pick your phone back up to head back to your computer to keep working.

Ah, big deadlines. What kind of work do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?x

Hm, this new tumblr friend of yours is awake even though it’s probably the middle of the night for him?

I don’t mind. I work in graphic design. Isn’t it the middle of the night for you? 

It would be if I was at home. I travel a lot for work. I’m currently in New York, so it’s only 9pm.x

But it definitely feels like I should be asleep. I’ve only been in New York for a few days and my mind is still on London time.x

What kind of work do you do? 

You set your phone down and boot your computer back up. You know you have shadows to deal with and layers to add back before even getting to the stuff you were meaning to get on today. This project was going to be the death of you. 

Tom stares at the message. How does he respond to that? He can’t very well tell you he’s an actor. That blows all of this. He likes being able to be open with you and the moment that it comes out that he is actually Tom Holland, well you might not be open with him. Could he tell you he works in the movie field without having to admit who he is? Could he play it off that he’s still a fanboy, because he will be a marvel fanboy until the day he dies, without blowing this whole thing up? There’s just something about you and being able to connect with someone who has no idea who he is that is different. 

Even on your blog today, you shared things from months ago and still reacted like it was your first time seeing them. Your whole blog just radiated positivity, even though your messages sounded like you had a lot on your plate outside of the internet world. He wants to be able to know you without the pressure of having to be, well, him. But you’re not asking him to spill everything about who he is. Just a snip-it. 

Film production. Getting ready to head off to a new project actually.x

Must be fun to travel for it. Anywhere fun?

Cleveland actually. Haven’t been there before, so maybe I’ll find something fun to do outside of the project while I’m there.x

Maybe you’ll run into Tom. He’s supposed to be there shooting a project I think. Especially if you’re also in the film industry, you’d already have more of a way into things than say I would lol 

I don’t know if I’ll have that much time off to look for him.x

Well if you happen to run into him in said little time off, tell him there’s probably half a million if not more tumblr users willing to marry him, should he be in need of a wife, husband, or nonbianary pal.

Would you happen to be one of those said half a million?x

He shouldn’t have sent it. You have been pretty good about responding, but after sending that message, he hasn’t heard from you in over twenty-four hours and he’s beside himself. You also haven’t posted on your blog. Which makes him think you’re avoiding him on the site all together, which is even worse. The flight to Cleveland, wouldn’t have been half bad if he wasn’t worried the whole time about what you might have been sending while his phone was on airplane mode. And of course the one time he would have paid any amount for on flight wi-fi, it was down and no one could use it.

As soon as the plane lands, he’s flipping the switch to connect his phone again. He needs to see if you’ve messaged back. He’s ignoring all the other notifications that pop up, looking for only on apps notifications. And while you haven’t posted again, you have messaged back. Which makes him suddenly feel like he can breathe again. 

I’m not the one who took Tom’s name on here. I feel like you might propose to Tom before I even have a chance to meet him IRL.

I don’t think I’m Tom’s type.X

And what do you think Tom’s type is? 

And it takes everything to not just describe you. It wouldn’t be hard. He had spent a lot of time deep diving through your blog. He had looked through your #me tab on your blog. It was filled with everything from selfies to posts about things you had done. And you were the kind of person that he was into. It wasn’t an only physical attraction thing. It was the things that you found important enough to post about. The little things about your day that you shared about. But instead of typing back you, Tom decides to type something different.

I think he would be into someone down to earth. Someone who is into sharing time with friends and family equally and someone who has a great sense of humor. Oh and they would HAVE to love Tessa. That would be a must.x

Wow you’ve thought a lot about this.

Do you disagree?x

Surprisingly no. But I thought you’d say something more… I don’t know physical I guess.

Why’s that?x

I don’t know. I just did.

What do you think he’d be into?x

He can’t help but ask. He wants to know what you think he’s like. There’s enough speculation out there about what he’s like, but for some reason, knowing what you think about him, it means something to him.

I would say, similar to you- family, friends and Tessa would definitely be at the top. Sense of humor would be important. I also feel like with there being so much he can’t talk about to the public, having someone he can trust with stuff would be important. I also think trust would be important so that he has a space he can just be himself too. 🤷‍♀️

Pretty spot on. All of those are important to him. He wants to ask if those things are all important to you, but asking that would come off weird, so he takes a different approach.

Honestly if I wasn’t such a div when I was making accounts I would have just made a Tessa fan blog. I’m a bigger fan of her than of Tom. x

SO TRUE. How can you not be?! She’s the purest thing in this world (sorry to Tom) and every time he shares more of her with us I melt a little.

Paddy had sent him that picture of Tessa this morning, maybe sharing it would brighten everyone’s days. Especially knowing that you were such a fan of her too. Adding the picture to his Instagram story, with a quick caption of missing this sweet girl, he quickly uploads it.

APPARENTLY TOM CAN READ OUR THOUGHTS?!

What do you mean?x

Cute Tessa content just uploaded to his Insta story. Apparently he’s away from her and missing her 😭

She’s just too pure for this world x

I needed that right now.

Something wrong?x

Work project might kill me. 

It’s due by the end of the day, but photoshop keeps crashing and I might scream. 

I’m sorry love x

I’m restarting my computer for the third time today and it’s not even noon yet. 

You know he’s English so the love thing shouldn’t throw you. Plus he’s a boy on the internet. But for some reason, it feels like something more. So instead of saying anything about it, you just keep messaging like nothing happened. A small part of you is hoping that by not mentioning it though, it might happen again.

Tom spends the rest of the day messaging you when he can. He knows you’re working on a project that has a deadline, so he doesn’t expect you to be at his beck and call. But when he gets a notification at almost eleven o’clock at night his time from your blog, he hopes it’s one of your personal posts to make him laugh. He isn’t let down.

THERE WAS A MOTH FLYING AROUND MY ROOM AND NOW I CAN’T FIND IT IM GOING TO DIE. IF IT EATS ME YOU ALL KNOW WHO THE MURDER IS

#me #killer moth #save me #if i die i leave everything to tom

He can’t help but send you an ask about it.

Tomholland2013 asked: You know moths don’t eat people right?x

Y/T/B: You didn’t see how big this one was. This one was definitely of the people eating variety with how big it was. And now it’s hiding in my room waiting for me to close my eyes and then it will sneak up on me, kill me, and devour me whole. 🖕

Tom laughs at your reply before sending another ask. Sure he could do this in your message thread, but he’s betting the asks are helping distract you from the moth.

Tomholland2013 asked: That’s a quiet defensive response from someone who is going to be eaten. If you want me to come save you from a killer moth, maybe be a bit nicer.x

Y/T/B: If you will race over here, find this moth, and release it into the wild so that it can’t kill me in my sleep I will make you as many Tom edits as it takes in gratitude. 👏😘Just come save me please. I swear I can hear him laughing in the distance. 

Tomholland2013 asked: If he’s laughing in the distance, I’ll be over to take care of him. No one gets to disrespect my favorite blog and get away with it.x

Y/T/B: Thanks darling. I really, really appreciate it. Now I must be off to hunt this moth, before he hunts me.

Tags: @serendipitous-amor​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @tomfiction4​ @im-deeply-shallow

[youcantkillamutant]

Earn It

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary:  Some things have to be earned

Warnings: Cursing (Is ‘hell’ a bad word anymore?)

Words: 1.6K

A/N: Joining in on the Quarantine Writing challenge hosted by the lovely @shaekingshitup & @chaneajoyyy. Thank y’all for getting me writing in this time of corn teen lol. I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening To: Earned It Instrumental By The Weeknd, Earned It by Jasmine Thompson, When I Get My Hands On You by The New Basement Tapes

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Tea, check. KimoyoPad, check. Earbuds, check. Blue-light glasses, check. Kay had everything she needed. The sun was streaming through her office pod in the palace, window open to let in the breeze, but something was missing. Ideas. She needed ideas. After working on this project for a week straight, Kay discovered that she had no more inventive energy. All of her creations had been wrung out of her within the week, and now she sat at her desk, pouring over everything she had imagined, and it just wasn’t working.

She’d bought a few more hours to pull something together to present to Shuri and the board, but the clock was ticking and she wasn’t getting anywhere. Kay pushed away her KPad. Seeking out distraction would only make her feel worse, only remind her of the work she wasn’t doing.

To be fair, Kay had been particularly hard on herself during the work on this project and she knew it. Shuri and the other girls in the lab had noticed it. Feared it is probably more accurate. when Kay asked Shuri for a few more hours on the presentation, she was met with wide eyes and furious nods. And Kay couldn’t figure out why exactly she was wound so tight about this, but it felt important.

It was her first presentation in Wakanda that she’d make without training wheels. No project lead to report to, just her. When Shuri and the Board had approved her initial proposal, she’d been elated. Called everyone back home in the States to report that after 8 whole months working in Wakanda she’d finally scored her own project. It was exciting, even when the work set in she was excited, but now, a month later and three-quarters a preliminary presentation complete, Kay had to wonder why she’d wanted to do this in the first place.

It wasn’t like she had a ton of work to finish for the presentation anyways. But the part she had to finish just wouldn’t come. She’d been brainstorming for the last week on this portion of the project and she could barely string two sentences together for the presentation because there was nothing. Just as Kay was about to go give herself a bathroom break in which she would stare at herself in the mirror for ten to fifteen minutes, the door to her office pod slid open. Crap.

“Shuri, I thought we agreed that you’d give me at least three hours to go over these—”, Kay stopped short when her earbuds were out. A warm breath brushed over Kay’s shoulder, she knew it wasn’t Shuri. Great.

“N’Jadaka. I thought you were on a diplomatic mission with the Jabari.” Clove and honey floated to her senses, mingling with sand and oak; N’Jadaka’s scent wafting through the air.

“Keeping tabs on me Kay? I’m touched.” He huffed another breath over Kayana’s cheek, so close he could kiss it. Kay didn’t bother answering. Blowing out a breath instead, so get N’Jadaka’s smell out of her mouth.

Ever since she’d come to Wakanda N’Jadaka had been…overly familiar. Maybe it’s because they were the only Americans in Wakanda, but Kay didn’t spend five years doubling majoring in architecture and agriculture to be distracted by a lost prince. especially not on her first big presentation.

“Don’t flatter yourself N’Jadaka. I read the daily news blasts.” Kay waved her right wrist, heavy and strong with the kimoyo beads she’d received her first week working with Shuri.

“Everything is easier with these, I promise! It’s synced with your Pad so you’ll never have to worry about lost files. You’ll be able to chat with me, send video messages about the site visits and…”

“She reads! I knew you were smart. Could tell by the way you—” Kay shot him a sharp look then, one brow raised, daring him to go on.

Around Kayana, N’Jadaka Udaku had a knack for saying the wrong thing. Well in her opinion. All the girls she worked with in the lab and in the field utterly adored the man, but to Kay he was a pompous, arrogant, admittedly smart but incredibly irritating Golden State Warriors fan. Another glance at Kay told Erik to move onto another subject.

“I thought I told you to call me Erik?”

“I thought I told you to call me Ms. Benton.” Another gust of air, this one followed by a kiss of his teeth. Kay could just barely see it in her periphery. Pink tongue caressing his pearly whites before being swallowed by gleaming gold canines.

“Fine Ms. Benton. What are you working on then, Girl Wonder?”

“That’s your cousin’s name.” Erik rounded the table and pulled a chair out smoothly, settling into it and gazing at her expectantly. “I’m working on the proofs for a few smaller eco-house concepts. We’ve got the ecology of it down, solar panels, self venting spaces, and recycled fibers are easy enough to incorporate, but it’s just the…size.”

“What about it?” Kay ignored the way her stomach flipped when N’Jadaka’s face scrunched together in confusion. She’d been doing that for weeks.

“Do you know how difficult it is to turn a 20 meter space into a fully functioning apartment? I mean, sleeping quarters, laundry, kitchen, and living area. Not to mention it should all be ‘mod-chic’ or whatever brief T’Challa gave to the Board. Shuri was supposed to send someone from product development to help me but—” Kay caught sight of Erik’s grin. Her stomach flipped again and she backpedalled. “But I’m sure I can handle this. I probably don’t need help anyways.”

“Now come on Ms. Benton, you were practically begging for help.”

“I can’t imagine why Shuri would send you.” Any time the two had to work in the same vicinity, Erik spent most of his time trying to distract her and no time on whatever it was he was meant to be doing. After her first week, she’d actually never seen Erik in the lab again. According to Shuri, he wasn’t allowed in anymore.

“I’m the last one to say men and women should be separated, but my cousin…well he’s not helped his case much. Besides, T’Challa’s been gunning for his own lab near the top of the palace, this’ll make things easier for everyone. For now at least.”

N’Jadaka had found his way to Kay outside of the lab; sliding into the seat across from her at lunches, and always suspiciously on her off-site trips, trying to play tour guide. Initially she felt annoyed, she didn’t need a tour guide to do her job. Now-a-days, she was feeling a little different anytime N’Jadaka found her. He was getting to her, as much as she hates to admit it.

“Because I’m probably the only person who’s lived in a 20 meter apartment in this country. Seriously, I know how to live small Kay.” Kayana shot him a glare for the nickname and tried to ignore how genuine he sounded. Erik smirked at the way her lip curled in annoyance. He’d always found that cute.

Kay wasn’t stupid, she’d heard the stories about King N’Jadaka. Ruthless, power-hungry, practically foaming at the mouth for control. It was why she’d avoided him in the first place. But this N’Jadaka was nothing like the stories. He was kind of nice. Still cocky and arrogant, but surprisingly sincere. At least he was with her.

“The key to this is to break up the space. That and you’ve got to use any and every piece of furniture as storage. Hell, use the space under the steps as storage. If something in the space doesn’t have at least two functions, it doesn’t belong.”

For the first time since she’d started working in Wakanda, Erik had brought something useful to the conversation. Not that he wasn’t smart, the guy was brilliant and everyone knew it, especially him. It just seemed that every time he came around Kay, all he could spew were cocky remarks and nicknames he hadn’t earned.

“Are you telling me you’ve found more than one use for a pillow?”

“Ms. Benton, there are plenty of uses for a pillow.” Erik waggled his eyebrows and Kay rolled her eyes, but something in his expression felt wicked and her face heated. “But in all seriousness, yeah. If you get a large enough pillow, they can be used as couch cushions. Hell you could turn the whole bed into a couch and transform the sleeping space into the living space.”

“Do you think we could turn them into curtains instead?”  

It went on like that for two hours, Kay and Erik brainstorming. Mostly Kay was questioning how something could serve more than one function and Erik answered back with three different ways to transform the singly-functional to multi-functional.

“I’m impressed.” Kay was loathe to admit it, especially with the way Erik’s full lips pulled up into a smirk. By now they were both standing, they’d both paced the circumference of the office pod ten times. N’Jadaka approached Kay arms wide in victory.

“And the Girl Wonder begrudgingly admits I know what I’m talking about. You flatter me Kay.”

“Ms. Benton. And I never said you didn’t know that you were talking about.” At least not out loud.

“Seriously? After all that help I still can’t call you Kay?” This time N’Jadaka was a few steps away. “What is it with you and nicknames?” His gaze was calculating and Kay met him head-on.

“Names have power, you of all people should know that N’Jadaka.”

“Bullshit.” N’Jadaka took a step closer. “I’ve heard the girls call you Kay.” Another step. “You even let mean old Mrs. Oyinke call you Kay.” N’Jadaka had made it right in front of Kay, close enough to touch. Kay stood her ground.

“Nicknames have to be earned.” Erik’s brow shot up in surprise. Then he leaned in. Close and closer. Between one breath and the next he was so close that Kay could see his golds glinting through barely parted lips.

“And what exactly do I need to do to earn it then?”

_______________________________________________________________________

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope y’all are doing okay in Quarantine and staying safe. I obvi haven’t been writing much, but I’m hoping to change that once I finish a few more projects. 

I started a new job last month and somehow get to work from home so there’s really no reason why I can’t keep working on The Advocate after I fix a few things around the house. I’m excited about that! 

I hope y’all liked this one. Pretty sure I’ll never write smut but I like to tease the possibility of the chance of a kiss like an 80 year old victorian spinster lol

I was inspired by the Youtube channel Never Too Small. Even if y’all aren’t into design you should check out a few videos because what people can do with small spaces is literally ingenious!

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Let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the taglist :)

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl@thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat@panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines@someareblindtoitsbeauty@jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots@thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl @fd-writes 

[redpink-archive]

show me healing

“I’m here if you need a person.” small piece i was inspired to write after noticing how sad rosa looked in the show me going ep of b99, i felt like rosa’s and jake’s friendship could be expanded a lot more so this mess happened lolol also pls bear w me as this is my first time ever writing a fic omg be kind…. also shoutout to tilde (@sergeantames) for helping me edit this u are amazing ily anyways w/o further ado, here is my fic also alternatively titled rosa + jake + emotions lol

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The air is cool when Rosa steps out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. She lets out a sigh of relief; she wasn’t used to having to deal with so many emotions and so many people hugging her in such a short span of time. A part of her was grateful for her squad. She loved them all so dearly, and seeing their relieved faces when she walked back into the precinct did pull at her heartstrings, maybe even enough to make her feel like crying. She’d never tell them that, though.

The immense love that she had for her team slowly morphs into an uglier feeling, something she doesn’t even know how to describe. She sits down on one of the concrete ledges and tries to untangle her thoughts. She feels angry, she feels horrified, she feels anxious, and mostly, she feels so small. The events of the day replay over and over in her head but nothing makes sense, nothing feels real. She barely feels real herself. The last thing she remembers clearly is relaying her badge number and name to the dispatcher right before joining two other detectives who were headed to the hotel as well. Everything is a blur after that, and the only thing reminding her that she’s still alive is the coldness of the concrete she’s sitting on.

“Hey.” Rosa hadn’t heard the balcony door open and nearly jumps out of her skin as she turns to face the person who came to check up on her.

Jake.

“Sorry,” he quickly adds as he walks over to where she’s sitting. “I didn’t think anyone would be here, and I just needed to process some stuff, and the cold air weirdly makes me feel less alone.”

Rosa turns her head back and focuses her eyes on the building that she had been staring at before Jake came.

“Yeah, the cold air is the only thing reminding me that I’m real right now,” she says without breaking eye contact with the building. She feels Jake sit down next to her on the concrete.

“How are you, Rosa?” His voice is soft, and this has more of a profound effect on her than she was expecting it to. She pulls herself together and turns back to him.

“I- I don’t know, I’m fine.” She watches Jake’s brow furrow, and swivels her head back to face the building. She doesn’t need sympathy, she just needs time to forget. She already feels herself repressing the events of the day, and she’d rather leave them at that instead of trying to unpack those events right now with Jake.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk. I just hope you know that I’ll always be there for you if you ever find yourself in a bad place, ok?” The simplicity of his statement is highlighted by his matter-of-fact tone. They’ve been through a lot together, and she knew that he always had her back. “I’m here if you need a person,” he adds.

She wasn’t expecting to reply, but her words spill out faster than her brain can think to stop them. “I don’t know how I got back, Jake. I told you that it was prank, and that I didn’t use the elevator on purpose, but honestly, I can’t remember walking back into the precinct. I literally think I just saw stairs and climbed up them, uninhibited, and ended up on the fourth floor. After I responded to the call, I think my brain switched to autopilot because I don’t remember making any conscious choices, I just remembered my training. I didn’t even feel like a person.” She wasn’t used to sharing so much about what she felt to others, even though she had known Jake the longest out of all of the detectives in the 99th precinct. She felt so exposed, but even that did not stop her from continuing.

“I do remember thinking about what if I died right there. A part of me was ready, I think, to die.” She’s shocked at her own revelation, but the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that it was true. Rosa had been ready to sacrifice herself. For the job. For the civilians caught in the crossfire. For the people who left their homes today and didn’t return, and the families who they left behind.

“Were you really?” Jake’s voice cuts through Rosa’s thoughts like a knife. It sounded too hoarse to be his own voice, and he hadn’t noticed that he’d been holding his breath the whole time she was talking. Rosa looks down at her hands.

“Yeah,” she starts, “but I would have missed you guys a lot.” She lets out a small smile and looks up at Jake, but quickly looks back down when she sees him staring off into the distance with eyes that were a little too shiny. After a brief awkward silence between them, she gently nudges his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m sorry for freaking you out with what I said. I don’t really know where a lot of that came from.”

Jake promptly turns his attention back to Rosa. “No, no, please don’t apologize. I wasn’t even there when it happened, I don’t know why …” He trails off, struggling to find the right words to say what he feels but Rosa cuts him off.

“You know, on the way back here, I thought about you a lot, and all the stuff we’ve gone through together, and how scary it was to not have you there in a time of crisis. I mean remember being on Hawkins’ task force? That was some scary shit. And going to jail? Even more scary shit. But it was easier to go through it with my best friend, you know?” She watches Jake hastily rub his eyes with his sweater sleeve. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Best friend? Some best friend I am, I don’t even think we got a chance to talk about what happened on that task force after everything ended and we came back.” Jake lets his anger seep into his words. He had always regretted not sitting down and talking with Rosa about the task force and the trial and being in jail for months. Sure, the whole experience had made him doubt his decision-making skills for a while after he witnessed firsthand how easily it was to be able to put away two innocent people. He became more cautious when determining the guilt of a potential suspect. It’s what made him a better cop, according to Holt. “You see it as a weakness, but it means you’re growing,” he had told him. But what about Rosa? How had the experience affected her?

She steps in before he has a chance to continue. “Hey, that’s equally my fault. I mean, I could have also initiated something.” Jake looks unconvinced, so she backtracks. “Okay, fine, I probably wouldn’t have, but it’s fine. You had a lot of things going on, you proposed!” Jake’s face lights up at the memory of that night and his huge surprise to Amy, and Rosa laughs at his very predictable reaction. “There was no reason for us to talk about it in the midst of all of that,” she shrugs.

“But that’s not the point of a friendship,” Jake argues. “Any person can be there for you when it’s convenient. Friends are supposed to make room in their schedule for you, especially when you’ve know each other since the Academy, and especially when you’re best friends,” he tells her.

“You know, I always considered you my closest friend because you didn’t try and talk to me about personal matters. Back then, it seemed like everyone was always itching to know everyone else’s ‘story’,” she says while making air-quotes with her fingers and rolling her eyes. “You were just content to test out the cool guns that were there, and it was refreshing.”

“Okay, there’s no need to make me out to be some sort of gun fanatic,” Jake huffs, making Rosa laugh again. “And while that may have been true at first, I think we’ve come too long of a way to not be able to be more open about how we feel out on the field, because … you’re right. It is scary out there, and it’s too easy to let that consume you. I mean, doesn’t a small part of you want to be more like the Swedes?” Jake breaks into a smile, eyes glittering, but not for the same reason as before.

“God no, and I’ll have someone mercy kill both of us if we ever end up like that,” Rosa deadpans while Jake struggles to contain his laughter.

“You KNOW people that can do that kind of stuff?” He asks incredulously, and Rosa makes a face.

“Oh come on! You were just telling me how long you’ve known me for!” She pretends to be offended at Jake’s gross underestimation of her vast amount of connections with shady people. Jake looks equal parts amused, impressed, and worried. She lets out a chuckle, but it’s quickly replaced by silence. “But I do want to thank you for looking out for me. I know I have a hard time talking about stuff like this but I appreciate you trying.” She pauses for a second, then continues. “And I’m sorry for not realizing that our friendship isn’t something that we can just half-ass.”

“That’s right, we must full-ass it!” Jake exclaims, a part of him actually being genuine. He transitions quickly back into being serious. “I’m sorry, too. I was really worried about you being alone and in danger-”

“I wasn’t alone, Jake,” Rosa reminds him.

“Well you were without the squad, our squad, so, a part of you was alone,” he justifies himself. “But, yeah, we were under orders to stay back, and I felt like I wasn’t doing anything to help so went directly against Holt and left with the intention of helping out at the hotel. But I hadn’t even gotten to my car before I realized that Holt was right, and that the squad needed me there to help them not repress their fear about this situation. And you need the same thing, we all do. I mean, God knows me and Amy are going to talk about this when we get home. I can’t even imagine what would happen if one of us…,” he trails off, lost in thought, leaving the sentence suspended in thick air. He shakes his head and continues. “The point is, emotions are hard, and we are all still learning how to express them in healthy ways, and I want you to learn with us.”

Rosa sighs. “I want to, too,” she manages to say after the bit of silence that passed while she was digesting Jake’s words. And she really did want to.

[seungkwanslowqualityenglish]

Husband!Vernon

Who: Vernon

Word Count: 1655 words

Warnings: None really.

Request: Yes. “hi!! could u possibly do a husband!vernon scenario. im feeling extra fluffy tonight lol”

I hope you enjoy this, it started as a husband au but then I got sucked into the domestic black hole and it ended up being mostly a father au.

Vernon is young, so for him to get married, he’d have to be like 300% sure they were the right person. 

Like he’d want to be 200% sure before he proposed and 300% sure before he was ready to put a ring on it finally.

The wedding was probably highkey planned by his sister and mom, like honestly, he would just want you to be happy and probably give you the reigns over it and they were so excited you passed the control to them.

You know those men that cry when watching their bride walk down the aisle, Vernon is one of those men.

Before the wedding Vernon would probably be like “Baby you’ll probably cry more than I do”, but then plot twist you aren’t crying but he’s crying badly.

He probably starts to mutter “Damn I’m marrying her” and “How did I get such an attractive wife” and “How does she look so beautiful” under his breath, when he sees you, before the tears start.

For a good thirty minutes after the I do’s, he’s just staring into space because it hasn’t hit him he’s married now.

When it hits him he’s married, he’s introducing you to everyone as his wife and Mrs. Chwe.

Like he just introduced you to his sister as Mrs. Chwe and it’s like “Honey I’ve known her for years” but he’s like “Yeah, but not as Mrs. Chwe.”

Your honeymoon is probably to somewhere that you never thought about visiting for your honeymoon, like Thailand or Brazil, like somewhere that isn’t usually the first honeymoon spot that people think of.

Vernon probably planned the honeymoon so expect to do some of the cliche honeymoon things, and some not as cliche things.

Like he’ll take you snorkeling but also hiking, he’ll take you horseback riding but also just like half a movie night in where you are staying.

He probably has to carry you across the threshold, like he feels like it’s not official unless he does.

You 99% believe he’ll manage to slam your head against the doorframe, but surprisingly, he doesn’t. 

He probably carries you in and then into the bedroom and drops you on the bed, and then looks at you while raising his brows, but you are just like “Vernon, it’s like three in the afternoon, no.”

But he suffices for cuddling you while watching the tv.

Your first night as a married couple will be hella sweet, like he’ll get your favorite foods and give you a candle light dinner, and you are like “Babe you didn’t have to” and he’s like ‘“You should have told me that before I did it.”

You think he’s joking, but he’s not, he’s serious, had you told him he wouldn’t have done it.

He probably plans this hella romantic evening for your first night as a married couple, but then he knocks a candle over and sets something on fire and you’re like yep, mood ruined and nothing happens.

He’d honestly be such a devoted husband, like you are his ride or die and he is your ride or die.

He’d always be there when you need him, like you are sad and he’s at practice, he’s leaving to come home and cuddle you.

He’d send you little gifts when he’s away from you, to remind you that he loves you.

He probably writes raps about you and how much he loves you.

He could probably make a full album with just songs he’s written about you.

He has his moments of being awkward and shy though, like you’ve been married years and he gets all blushy if he walks in on you changing, and it’s just like “You’ve seen it all before why are you covering your eyes”.

He’d random come home with flowers for you whenever he does something that he knows you’ll be mad about, but since he’s usually not like that, you are like “What did you do” and he’s like “Why did I have to do something maybe I just wanted to get you flowers” and you are like “Hansol” and he’s like “Sorry I accidentally spilled something on your jacket”, but the flowers lessen your anger.

He constantly kisses you, like you’ll be in the middle of a sentence and he’ll kiss you and be like “You looked so adorable I just had to.”

He won’t admit it, but he loves seeing you wearing his clothing, like he loves nothing more.

You two probably adopt a dog or cat or both, and then take the dog for walks daily, and just do cute domestic things.

For the first few years, like first five, children isn’t a discussion you have. 

It’s not that either of you are against the idea of children, it’s just you are young and don’t really want to start a family yet.

When you did talk about it, he would respect your wishes 100%.

Like you don’t want children, fine by him, you can adopt another animal or two.

You want a big family, fine by him, he just wants to know when you can start trying.

You want children but don’t want to actually give birth, he’s contacting the adoption agencies and arranging visits.

Honestly he wants whatever you want, you could say you want an alpaca farm and he’s asking you how many alpacas.

If you decide to have children and are pregnant, he’d probably never leave your side.

Even if Seventeen is having a comeback soon, he’s dragging you into the studio and practice room since he doesn’t feel like it’s safe leaving you at home.

He probably spends more time asking you if you are alright than actually doing his work.

Honestly all of Seventeen spends more time asking you if you are alright than doing their work.

The members probably suggest baby names and stuff, and you have to be like “No Mingyu, we aren’t naming the baby BongBong”, “No Jeonghan we aren’t naming it after you”, and “No Seungkwan we won’t let you name the baby”, it happens daily..

The baby will have 12 uncles, which is good, since free babysitters.

When you do have children, whether adopted or yours or even just animals you call your children, he’ll be honestly the best father.

Like he’s always up for bathing them and feeding them, now changing them might take a bit for him to warm up to, but everything else he’s willing to do.

He’ll always offer to go to the store, whether it’s something you are craving at 1 am, or you need more diapers.

He probably has a mandatory thirty minutes of baby and me time daily, where it’s just him and the baby.

During that time he probably softly sings to the baby or raps or plays music he’s working on for it.

Hansol is that father that would have his baby backstage at his concerts wearing those cute little noise blocking headphones, since he wants his baby to see why he’s so passionate about music.

He probably brings the baby on stage at least once a show also, the baby is a month old and has a fandom like let’s be serious. 

The baby is the unofficial 14th member of Seventeen, at this point.

He’s into matching outfits, but not with you, but with the baby.

Like he buys matching little jeans and a leather jacket for the baby, and it’s adorable.

He probably has an instagram where he just post cute family pics of you all and baby pics.

Your child is like three months old and probably been offered a modeling contract or something since the baby is so cute.

Hansol says it’s all because no child of his can be ugly, and takes full credit for the baby’s cuteness and it’s like um it takes two to make a child.

I can see Hansol wanting at least two children, so if you have any, it’ll probably be two at the least maybe three.

And Hansol would be the same for all of them, and buy matching outfits for all of them, even the girls, all of them are dressed like their dad, but you are dressed different since he’s not into couple outfits.

Your children are all unofficial members of Seventeen, and honestly Hansol’s jealous since their fandoms are probably bigger than his because who can resist babies.

Hansol is always up for helping with the children, around the house, just really anything.

You could tell him to mow the carpet and he’d probably ask where the mower is but not question why. 

He’s a pta dad, because he is highly concerned with the quality of education his children are getting. 

If his children were girls, he’d be that father that always volunteers to chaperone the school dances since no boys are going near his daughters.

He also volunteers to chaperone field trips because he’s honestly just a big kid and wanted to go to the museum or zoo also.

He’s known as that dad, the one that always sends tons of snacks and treats for the kids.

Your family is that family, the one that all the other kids in class love and you both don’t mind.

Honestly even the other parents love you both, since they can tell you aren’t only concerned for your own children, but also the others.

Like all the children in your children’s classes are your children now.

He’s also that parent that always jumps to volunteer for fundraising events and all, and volunteers you also.

Like that one time he agreed to cosponsor the bake sale, and then just told you that you needed to make like 30 dozen cookies and 15 pies and they need to be done in 2 days, and it’s like “Really Hansol”.

You two would honestly have just the cutest relationship ever, and he’d be pretty much everything you could ever want. 

[ciceroprofacto]

Do you think Hamilton was a virgin when he married and consummated his marriage with Elizabeth? Of course he doesn't seem "virginal" lol but if not, how did men at that time have sexual relationships with women they knew they weren't going to marry and not produce a pregnancy or rumors about it? Plus, if you do think Ham lost his virginity prior to Eliza, do you have any inferences on when, or who?

I’m sure she wasn’t his first. But, before I answer this- again, it’s not like something like that would’ve been written down, so I can only make assumptions.

As always, men were under less pressure than women to wait until marriage, and the culture of the West Indies was less rigid about matters of chastity than many other places in the colonies. I doubt that, while he lived there, Hamilton was as concerned about rumors as he would be later. Some of that is subject to interpretation depending on how you think he would’ve been effected by rumors that were spread about his mother and how that would probably change under Hugh Knox’s mentorship.

You also have to keep in mind courtships were carried on with a lot of innuendo, so rumors, if they happened, couldn’t necessarily be proven, and I feel like I’m not the one to explain the many ways men and women can have sex without risking pregnancy- there’s different positions, methods, and times people can be intimate without risking it. Talk to your parents. Or even better, your grandparents- about how they avoided it.

As to when or who to speculate about, in April 1771, an ‘A.H.’ submitted two poems to the Royal Danish American Gazette, I’ve included under the cut. Historians believe it was Hamilton who wrote them and he claims to be ‘about seventeen’- he’d be barely 16, but he was writing mature sexual innuendo and probably wanted some anonymity. This was also during the time he would’ve been mentored by Hugh Knox and was more religious than he would later be, especially during the war.The first poem talks about a more devoted romance, maybe one he was imagining with a crush or one he watched. It’s funny because it talks about marriage with an idyllic view- which would totally flip by the time he was working as an aide with Washington (so he maybe got his heart broken a few too many times or had a proposal shot down). The second is more playful and takes the tone he later uses in his letters with Kitty Livingston where he teases her with jocular insults. But, the second one, whoever Cœlia is, it sounds like their relationship was definitely consummated.

Also- there’s a compelling case to be made that he was intimate with John Laurens, seeing as how he employed him to paint his picture as a lover in his April 79 letter.

So there’s at least two names that we have a case for with a grey area around Kitty Livingston.

[St. Croix, April 6, 1771] To the Printer of the Royal Danish American Gazette:Sir,I am a youth about seventeen, and consequently such an attempt as this must be presumptuous; but if, upon perusal, you think the following piece worthy of a place in your paper, by inserting it you’ll much oblige Your obedient servant,A.H.

In yonder mead my love I foundBeside a murm’ring brook reclin’d:Her pretty lambkins dancing roundSecure in harmless bliss.I bad the waters gently glide,And vainly hush’d the heedless wind,Then, softly kneeling by her side,I stole a silent kiss—

She wak’d, and rising sweetly blush’dBy far more artless than the dove:With eager haste I onward rush’d,And clasp’d her in my arms;Encircled thus in fond embraceOur panting hearts beat mutual love—A rosy-red o’er spread her faceAnd brighten’d all her charms.

Silent she stood, and sigh’d consentTo every tender kiss I gave;I closely urg’d—to church we went,And hymen join’d our hands.Ye swains behold my bliss complete;No longer then your own delay;Believe me love is doubly sweetIn wedlocks holy bands.—

Content we tend our flocks by day,Each rural pleasures amply taste;And at the suns retiring rayPrepare for new delight:When from the field we haste away,And send our blithsome care to rest,We fondly sport and fondly play,And love away the night.

…

Cœlia’s an artful little slut;Be fond, she’ll kiss, et cetera—butShe must have all her will;For, do but rub her ’gainst the grainBehold a storm, blow winds and rain,Go bid the waves be still.

So, stroking puss’s velvet pawsHow well the jade conceals her clawsAnd purs; but if at lastYou hap to squeeze her somewhat hard,She spits—her back up—prenez garde;Good faith she has you fast.

[whydoyouthinkileft]

{ *leaps into you ask* JEMMALANCE }

listen this was for couple so I’m totally writing it in the span of their relationship going from friends to couple good luck (I thought about the one where they went rogue together but really, in the end it works in any.

-who cries when someone dies in a movie

Does it even need saying lol Jemma. JEMMA. Every single time she re-watched LotR she cries when Gandalf ‘dies’ and his friends cry even though she KNOWS he’s not dead. She cries when characters die. She cries when characters get a happy ending. She cries at proposals. So help her if it’s a movie where a dog dies. Hunter just has to put tissues in front of her whenever they decide to watch a movie that isn’t a romcom (because she’s only invested enough to cry over proposals when she knows characters better than for two hours, like for tvshows, so at least she won’t cry over a happy movie that way). (The first time, she has to explain to Hunter that no, she’s not having some kind of breakdown due to what happened in SHIELD, she genuinely is just crying over the movie and can he please hand her a tissue)

-who wears the ugly holiday garb

Jemmaaaa. But she also brings Hunter stuff to wear like hats or something to hang on his clothes - though it depends on what you mean by ugly because most of the time it looks cute on her. And then she makes it wear to other people and it does not look cute on them. There are also made-up holidays and putting the small cockade from a gift on his shirt because “you are the best gift” and what’s he gonna do then? he has to keep it at least for a bit. Hunter strikes to me as the type who would also wear something stupid during a holiday to cheer her up the one time she gets depressed over something and is like “whatever, holidays are stupid anyway, I won’t celebrate it” because it’s like having a Christmas elf turning into the Grinch and it’s sad. It works.   

-who pays for the meals

Okay, it depends and Jemma prefers to split up the bill than having him pay for her, and Jemma doesn’t mind paying for both before he finds out and then leaving before he can comment on it (especially in the verse where he works for her? though she passes it as work expenses) but if we are talking about the ship and not broship and it’s a romantic date and he pays, she looks so damn pleased and blushed that he’d probably want to pay all the romantic things lol while normal lunches can be still split or either of them can get to pay first. She’s a sucker for clichés, she’s all for paying for herself at any other time, but during romantic outings him paying and doing other little romantic gestures will make her melt, and Hunter likes that he can make her blush.  

-who slams the oven door and who plays the trombone

He can play the trombone, she’ll smash the oven door with enthusiasm! (The contrary though is also true so really, he can pick)

-who brings home stray animals

Both? And then they need to have talks about ‘but can we keep it or not’ and what’s best for the animal. 

-who leaves the bathroom door open

I think neither unless they are just fixing their hair? or in her case make-up? She is particularly (and only) private when it comes to that (unless she wants to join her for a shower, but that’s different).  

-who tells the 'dad jokes'

They both make jokes, but Jemma puns and makes non-funny jokes all the time (which actually end up being funny out of sheer incredulity for what she said - she has more dark humor on her side) while Hunter is sarcastic as hell, self-deprecating too... So she tells the dad jokes if you count things like “we’ll do it old school... but not in our old school” and mimicking people. And then she looks at Hunter with a smile waiting for his reaction. (”a kiss to make me stop for ten minutes” has been said). If Hunter tells a dad joke she can either laugh, because it’s Jemma, or pat his arm, especially if it’s sad with him expecting her to tell him to shut up like a true Dad Joke  

-who wants kids more

I think it would be her? But she wouldn’t push for it unless he truly wants them too. She wants kids to be loved by both parents. Actually, it also depends on the timeline. Normally she knows she wants kids, but she’s also afraid of mess it all up, and Hunter seeing her being adorable with kids might spark in him the wish to have their own kids first, while she’s still doubting her ability to be a good mother. Though once he reassures her, they both want it.

-who travels more

They both travelled a lot so I don’t think it’s easy to tell. They are both working in the field too despite their job description so it’s a tie? 

-who spends more cash

I’m starting to think it might be him, for things that have nothing to do with work at least? Because she’s so content with what she has already, she doesn’t have much left to buy by the time they are together. Well, except clothes, but he does that too. 

-who buys the things in infomercials

Hunter may have considered it so I’ll go with him (and then Jemma went “Just tell me what you want, I’ll build it for you.”) 

-who draws in the dust on their cars

Both. Given the sappy smile on Hunter’s face during the few happy romantic scenes he had, I’m willing to guess that he’d also draw cute things for Jemma when she’s right there because he knows he’ll get rewarded. Jemma isn’t as romantic and would probably draw something to make him laugh (she leaves romantic messages in post-its, okay) 

-who starts the snowball fights

Either is good. The very first time, Hunter gave it a go with a small snowball to check her reaction like ‘will she play along or find it childish?’ and then Jemma nearly tackled him in the attempt to just grab ALL the snow her arms could carry and throw it in his direction as if she was splashing him with water, and from that moment whoever wants to start it can start it. There’s going to be yelling. 

-who throws away the directions to things

Hunter. Jemma complains about him doing that ten minutes straight because it’s more correct to follow the exact direction. Hunter is just done with her having to follow them so perfectly. Until the day he finds out that if she doesn’t follow plans she goes completely insane and has no regrets about it, so he is a bit more cautious and accepts that some people (just her) need to have more directions. Hunter can take different paths, metaphorically or literally while driving, without needing directions, he won’t go batshit crazy.  

-who puts up holiday decor

They both do! And it’s always a happy time! Except like, the one time she didn’t feel well and postponed it, and Hunter started for her, and obviously she started crying because happy when she walked in and he was very proud of himself. (crying is good in these cases) so while before then she was the one who went a bit overboard, once he knows how much it apparently means to her on a sentimental level he also joins with more enthusiasm. 

-who is more likely to forget to bathe

I think they are people who don’t easily forget to bathe, of all the things (I’m looking at you, Hunter, you are way too good looking to actually not put effort in your looks. You put efforts into looking effortlessly handsome, admit it.) but sometimes he doesn’t forget as much as comes home tired to death and falls asleep while sitting down for five minutes to catch a breath after a long day of work. Meanwhile she takes a shower in the morning every day, but she usually takes another after work, unless she gets fixated on a project. In that case she forgets to shower. And eat and sleep. 

-who gets more obsessed about things

Jemma, oh man. If by things you mean projects, fandoms. If you mean bringing up past slights and being petty, it’s both of them, but in a non-aggressive way. If the problem has been solved, she can bring it up but making sure he knows she’s just teasing. If Hunter keeps bringing some unsolved problem up, she lets him until she snaps and then they both need to cool off. But usually they have very few disagreements, so their ‘obsessive’ talking is mostly limited to good or neutral things. Harry Potter is a common fandom, though, so sorting hat talks are also something to obsess about (”What House do you think X is?” “Ravenclaw” “I’m going to fight you”)

-who sings in the shower more often

Absolutely Jemma because she has Glee moments whenever she’s showering or cleaning, nearly every day. Including dancing. But whenever there is music playing in the bathroom (she left some mp3 thing there) I don’t think Hunter is capable of resisting for too long? Let alone the duets when she pulls Bon Jovi on and loses it while fixing her hair, Hunter is welcomed to join. And does. It tends to end with Jemma jumping him for kisses because it’s so fun.

[accio-ambition]

lighting up the path

a/n: Happy belated Valentine’s Day, Emily (@swan-road), from your really bad and really late CSSV. (Me. I’m the really bad CSSV. I’m sorry.) You asked for a fake dating AU and I tried my best. This can sort of stand on it’s own but, hopefully, I can add a second part in the near future. You know, when life calms down. It was such a pleasure talking to you and getting to know you even more. Hope this brightens your day!

I have never been to a planetarium, nor do I know how they work. But I have been to the Natural History Museum in New York, so I know they do have a planetarium and Neil deGrasse Tyson is the dude in charge there. That’s the extent of my knowledge.

He’s known her for far longer than he can recall – uni orientation seems so far in the past – when he realizes he’s failed her as a friend. Growing up with Liam and the ridiculous amount of clear night folklore and stories he told, Killian honestly doesn’t see how such an oversight is possible.

And yet, it is.

She’s never seen the stars.

Emma Swan has never seen the stars.

“What do you mean, never?”

She shrugs, shifting herself on the mattress to better look at him. “The places I was always placed in were in cities or the suburbs where it was too light all the time,” Emma explains.

It still hasn’t sunk in with him. “You’ve never seen the stars?” he asks again, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Broken record much?” she chuckles. “What’s the big deal?”

And when Killian takes a minute to think about it – what is the big deal about his love for stars? – it all comes back to having such good memories with his brother. The only person to completely love him, raise him, and tell him the stories of those that watch over them from the heavens.

From the tales she’s told, Emma never had anyone like Liam to so much as comfort her from nightmares.

“Swan, stars are whole new worlds,” he says, poking her in the shoulder for emphasis. “The skies open up and smile down upon you like…”

Emma grins at him and distracts him. Like that, he thinks. Just like that.

He shakes his head to bring him back on track. “You need to see the stars.”

Groaning, Emma rolls off the bed and moves to put her shoes on. “And how do you propose we go about that, huh?” she asks challengingly, raising a brow while she pulls on her shoe. “Neither of us have cars or money or time to drive anywhere to see them.”

“Those sound like the perfect reasons to follow the stars, love,” he tells her. “We’re young and stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” she quips.

He feels a silly endearing smile grow across his lips. “One day. One day soon, Swan.”

Her other shoe halfway on her foot, Emma glances toward him. “Is that a promise, Jones?” she asks him quietly.

Killian nods.

The first of many, I hope.

Though it might not seem it at first, it’s one of the most important promises he’s ever kept.

It takes a couple years – four and a half, to be precise – but his hard work pays off. Since Liam’s enrollment in the navy, Killian had wanted to follow in his big brother’s footsteps and take to the seas. But the stars – they had so much more to learn than he ever thought possible. And with their stories, he found himself falling into the past more often than not, so he picked up a few classes over the years. By the time he and Emma make it to graduation – together, as they’ve always been – he knows enough about history to write his own Hamilton.

(He doesn’t. Historical musicals are too in, he tells himself. But one day, maybe.)

Emma immediately gets an internship with the NYPD that leads to her promotion as an investigator once she’s finished the correct training, nearly in record time. Her hours are horrible and she gets beaten up more than Killian would ever wish for her, but she loves it, if her constant smile is any indication.

He’s managed to nab a part time gig at Panera to have some source of income and while he’s searching for a real job, Killian’s crashing in Liam’s old place rent free. She’s got a room with four other girls she met on Craigslist not too far away and, when they can, they grab pizza or Netflix the shit out of Making a Murderer.

Killian’s dreading getting ready for his evening shift when he finds the job opening of his dreams. An opening at the Hayden Planetarium. It’s a bit of a stretch for someone fresh out of uni, but he technically meets all of the job requirements and, at this rate, what does he have to lose?

He sends Emma a text, knowing full well she’s working, along the lines of lol, applied for a job at the Natural hist museum bc why not.

A few hours later, she responds with, HA dinners on me if you get it.

So he applies, hits the send button and walks out his brother’s apartment door to hopefully one of his last shifts at Panera.

(Should he get the planetarium job, he will miss the free fresh bread.)

It’s been close to a month since he nearly impulsively applied to the planetarium when one Regina Mills calls him. He’s walking to Panera, longing for the days when he’ll wake up excited to go to his job, when his phone rings.

I’ve got an interview, he texts her.

Swan must be in the bathroom or something because she immediately responds, Where?

Hayden.

Fuckin yes, Jones. That makes him laugh hard than he should as he’s waiting for a cross light to illuminate. Do you want me to come over and you put on a fashion show for me?

He doesn’t deign her a response. She shows up to his house with a six-pack later that night anyway.

Maybe it’s just his insane sense of optimism, but Killian knows before he truly knows that he’s been hired. He’s got a bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach the day he gets the call, eating at the local Chinese restaurant with Emma across the tiny table from him. His phone lights up in the dark eatery and Killian feels his heart stop.

“Answer it,” Emma says around a mouthful of lo mein. “I’m just going to be eating my noodles.”

He’s barely said hello when his new advisor formally offers him the job. It’s a blessing that he’s rendered speechless because he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise – she’s rattling off all this information and all he really understands is that Regina Mills needs an answer by the end of the week. He agrees to her terms even though he already knows his answer and says goodbye before the idea really begins to sink in.

Pressing the end call button, Killian slowly lets the ambient light of the restaurant consume him, still in the most honest form of shock.

“You got it, didn’t you?” Emma asks.

Killian smiles wide. “How could you tell?”

She tilts her head to the side, sending him an equally as endearing grin. “I knew you would,” she tells him confidently. Then, pointing at him with her chopsticks, she adds, “Plus, you have a stupid smile on your face.”

Scoffing, he retorts, “My smile is nothing less than dashing, Swan. You of all people should know that.”

(He detects a hint of a blush on her cheeks even through the low light and that makes him beam.)

“Shut up,” she quips. “When do you have to decide by?”

“The end of the week,” he responds.

She sighs and reluctantly sets down her chopsticks. “Well, congrats, Jones. Now I’ve got to go to the ATM.” Grabbing her purse, her mumbled “Don’t eat my noodles” can hardly be heard above Killian’s laughter.

Killian calls Ms. Mills back the next morning to formerly accept the position of assistant director of the Hayden Planetarium, one of the youngest ever in the position if his new boss is to be believed. She seems harsh – had seemed particularly intense when she sat down to interview him – but she exhibits a softer side when, as their conversation comes to a close, she invites him to an office potluck at the end of what will be his second week of work.

“It’s a monthly occurrence that we are dedicating to you this time,” she explains, her voice still sharp and relentless despite the casualness of the discussion.

“I am honored, Ms. Mills.”

“I expect your RSVP on Monday morning when you come into the museum. Eight o’clock sharp.”

“Aye, ma’am. Thank you again.”

Even from across the city, he can hear her annoyance toward him. “Stop thanking me, Mr. Jones,” she growls. “You’ve done the work to get the position, you don’t need to kiss my ass anymore.”

Thank goodness he’s already seated on the couch in his shitty apartment because, boy, was he unprepared for language like that from the respected Regina Mills. “Yes, Ms. Mills. Have a lovely weekend.”

And with that, he hangs up, still in disbelief. He’s got an excellent job to start in a field that he loves and a supervisor who apparently won’t take bullshit.

Sounds a lot Liam, funnily enough.

He chuckles at the thought while pulling up Emma’s contact information on his phone.

Come visit me on Tuesday when you get off.

She responds rather quickly by her standards. I don’t get off till 5.

Then come at 5.

Jones, that’ll be your second day of work.

She’s got a fair point. Though the few coworkers he’d met on his interview seemed polite, he doesn’t doubt for a minute that they would tattle on the new guy. And Ms. Mills has a stick up her ass for sure, so despite his qualifications, he’d probably find his ass fired if she finds an unauthorized person in the planetarium.

Still, he sends, Please, Swan. Because he needs to keep his promise now that he has access to the stars. Try something new? It’s called trust. It’s the new fad these days.

He can practically hear her scoff and see her eye roll. You’re an ass, she texts back. Fine. But if you get fired, you can’t blame me.

Never would.

He’s nervous all weekend about starting this new job, hardly eats a full meal and spends an ungodly amount of time on Sunday afternoon contemplating what to wear so as to impress but not to give off the air that he’s too good for this place. Because he’s not: this place is too good for him. He feels like an intruder. For god’s sake, Neil deGrasse Tyson is his boss.

Killian shows up ten minutes earlier than Regina told him to on Monday morning, too excited to wait another minute. The security guard lets him in, handing him his credentials as he passes through the metal detector. He flawlessly finds his way to the little hole in the wall that Regina said would be his office, and settles in with a goofy smile on his face.

He’s going to have to get used to this. He has no intention of moving jobs any time soon.

By the time the museum and planetarium close on that Monday, Killian’s swapped with research to do and already in progress projects to jump in on and he’s never felt so giddy in his life.

 His phone rings as he emerges from the subway station and Emma’s face smushed against a piece of glass pops up on his screen. With a grin, he picks up.

“Hi honey,” she greets him jokingly. “How was your first day of work?

“Lovely, thank you for asking.”

“Did you make any new friends?” she asks.

“Not quite yet, but all in due time, Swan.” He crosses the sidewalk and heads to his apartment building. “Remember, tomorrow when you get off. I’ll show you the stars.”

“They better be out of this world, Jones,” Emma says with a giggle.

“I’ll let that pun pass, just this once, Swan,” he retorts.

“Thank you, kind sir.” He hears her inhale and sigh. “Alright, I’ve got to go back to work. I just wanted to see how it went.”

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow in person,” he tells her. “How about that?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you then, Jones.”

“Be safe, Swan.”

“Always am.” And then she hangs up on her own, leaving Killian with a satisfied, if not tired feeling sinking into his bones.

Tuesday morning, he only shows up five minutes early and quickly gets to work in his little office. He’s hoping to get all his tasks done and have a bit of a chance to play with the astrolabe before Emma swings by. He knows enough – surprisingly enough, he can more or less operate one thanks to schooling and YouTube tutorials – but she’s never seen the stars. He doesn’t want his own incompetence to ruin her first gaze.

Somehow, he manages to wrap up all his work by quarter after four, a full half hour before Emma texts him that she’s on her way earlier than expected. Killian hasn’t a clue how visits work here, so he tells her to come through the back way, the faulty emergency exit door where Keith and Loren go out to smoke, not too far from his cubicle.

He knows Emma’s arrived when he hears the door begin to shake vigorously. Killian hurries to let her in because he knows Swan isn’t averse to kicking down the door. Hopefully not to one of New York’s most beloved and oldest buildings, but honestly, he wouldn’t put it past her.

Her banging gets louder and louder as he approaches, until he shoves it open and Emma’s slightly stunned face greets him.

“Hi,” she whispers, sneaking in the door.

With a big smile, Killian takes her hand and closes the door softly. “Hello, love.”

“Am I in trouble or something?” she asks unexpectedly.

Brows furrowed, he says, “No, why would you think that?”

She shrugs. “You’re sneaking me in the back and we’re whispering.”

“I’m whispering because you were whispering,” he answers with a chuckle. “C’mon, there’s a lot to see and I don’t know how much time we’ve got.”

As he gently tugs Emma along the hallways, she inquires, “What are we doing?”

Killian refrains from answering until they stand on the precipice of the planetarium itself. He turns to her, carefully walking backwards down the gradient aisle, pulling her along with him.

“Five years ago, you told me you’d never seen the stars,” he reminds her, her slight chuckles egging him on. “And I promised you that, one day, I’d change that.”

“Killian, what are you doing?” she asks again, and still he doesn’t answer. He’s brought her down to the middle of the room, right next to the globe projector. With a silent plea to stay where she is, he runs back up the aisle and presses a few buttons on the motherboard.

The room goes dark.

And the stars light up.

Emma’s still looking at him, her head cocked to the side as her tongue peeks out from between her lips. She’s trying to hide her smile to no avail.

Walking once more toward her, Killian points to the ceiling. “Look up, Swan,” he announces. “See the stars.”

She shakes her head until he’s in front of her, then takes his hand in hers. And then she looks up.

Her mouth drops.

“Oh wow,” she murmurs. “There’s so many.”

Killian nods, taking in the image of Emma taking in the night skies as they should always be, in his humble opinion. He watches her eyes flit around the entirety of the room, the projected stars reflecting bright against the green of her iris.

Beautiful, he thinks. And he’s not sure which one his conscience is describing, the stars or the woman before him.

“Those ones are in a straight line,” she observes absently. Quickly, Emma glances back down to earth before pointing at the collection of three stars she’s talking about.

“That’s Orion’s belt,” Killian explains. “They’re sometimes called the three kings or the three sisters.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, it goes back to the Middle East, when they first started recognizing and naming constellations,” he says. “Even though the three stars are three of the brightest in the winter time, they don’t appear in the sky until early January, around the feast of the Epiphany, where the three kings brought gifts to baby Jesus. In ancient times, they were often used to mark time.”

Emma hums, then looks at him again. “And this Orion fella,” she says. “Does he only wear a belt?”

Unable to help himself, Killian laughs heartily. His Emma would think of that in that particular manner. “In Greek mythology, Orion was a hunter who was honored by Zeus at his death and put into the stars to guide wanderers.”

“Huh,” she harrumphs. “He could’ve done a better job when I was a kid.”

Her statement is a bit of a mood killer – which Emma is entitled to whenever she wants, in his book – but the stars have given him so much, and he wants nothing but the same for her. So he quickly locates another constellation and begins to tell the story behind it.

“Do you see that star there?” he asks her, his finger pointing in a different direction. “The bright one that looks a little too white?” He feels more than sees her nod, feels the tendrils of her hair brush against the hair on his jawbone. “That’s called Deneb. It’s the brightest star in the Cygnus constellation during the summer and fall.”

“A swan?”

“Aye, a swan.” Killian gulps at what he’s going to say next. He wants to tell her that, from the moment he met her, he associated the constellation with her. The strength and the ferocity of the animal itself and the warrior-attitude of the mythological characters for which the collection of stars is named are all reflected within Emma’s spirit and story.

He truly intends on recounting that to her because she needs to know, when the stars disappears and the lights stutter on.

“Mr. Jones, the museum is closed now.” It’s the foreboding voice of his supervisor, the sternness in her voice causing his shoulders to hunch and his hackles to rise.

He briefly glances at Emma’s wide eyes before sighing and saying, “I understand, Ms.-”

“Miss.” She’s addressing Emma specifically, her strides casually approaching them with her arms crossed over her chest. “Mr. Jones will be back here tomorrow during business hours. You may come back and discuss the stars with him then.”

Killian lies quickly. Emma’s taken enough shit in her life: he won’t let her take more on account of his stupidity. “Ms. Mills, this is my lovely girlfriend, Emma Swan,” he says, gesturing between the two women. “I apologize for not introducing you earlier.”

That stops Regina short, her hair bobbing with the dip of her head. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

As she tends to do, Emma hops on his train of thought. “I just got off work and we were going to go get something to eat,” she lies easily, charming smile on her lips. Gently nudging his body aside, she sticks her hand out to his supervisor. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure.” Her distaste registers with both him and Swan – he can tell by the way she steps back, nearly nipping his toes. “Mr. Jones failed to inform me of any relationship.”

Standing next to Emma, Killian carefully takes her hand in his. “I fail to see how that is any of your business, Ms. Mills,” he growls.

Regina smirks, making his heartbeat speed up in concern. “You only RSVP’d for one,” she tells him. “I should think you’d want to bring your girlfriend to our office potluck next week.”

His jaw drops like an anchor. Of course he had said only he would come to the potluck because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He nearly mumbles an expletive, completely giving away their plot when, once again, Emma swoops in to save the day.

(As much as he knows he saves her, his Swan does her fair share of saving his sorry ass too.)

“I had to work, but I’ve managed to switch shifts,” she says happily. “Special for this shindig.”

“Really?” he asks in surprise.

Emma gives a small shrug. “I was going to surprise you over pizza,” she murmurs with a shy smile. “Surprise?”

He reasons that it’s part of the act they’re portraying – that he can’t help but lean over and press his lips to her temple. “A lovely surprise, Swan,” he mumbles against her forehead.

Still smirking, Regina spreads her arms wide. “What a nice change in plans,” she exclaims. “I look forward to speaking with you again at the potluck, Ms. Swan. Have a good evening.”

And with Emma’s “Likewise” farewell, his supervisor struts back up the planetarium’s aisle and leaves them alone.

Killian barely realizes his hand is still in Emma’s, and that he’s still lingering closer than he’s ever really been before, their interconnecting hands caught between his chest and her side.

He sighs, pulling away ever so slightly. “Thank you for covering for me.”

“Thanks for giving me an out,” Emma chuckles. While wincing, she asks, “You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

Killian shrugs. “Maybe, but that’s my cross to bear.” Finally, he drops her hand and wipes his own on the side of his pants. He’s nervous, which makes his palms sweat, and that’s not attractive or comfortable for anyone involved. Bashfully, he follows the steps of his supervisor back to the motherboard. “You don’t have to come to the party thing, you know.”

“Yes I do.” The vehemence in Emma’s voice causes him to turn around. She’s got her hands on her hips and a fierce fire in her eyes. “You’ve got a reputation to uphold and I’m not going to let you down,” she spits out, throwing her hand out toward him.

Taking a step back to her, Killian raises an eyebrow. “You know that means you’ll have to spend an entire evening talking with my colleagues about space rocks and the Hope Diamond and the average life span of a species of cat that’s been dead for three hundred years?”

She nods without hesitation, so Killian takes another step toward her, cocking his head to the side. “You know that means you’ll have to spend the entire night pretending you like me,” he reminds her. “Holding hands, arms around the waist, coming and leaving together? Things couples might do?”

Emma giggles as if what he’s just said isn’t a problem, couldn’t possibly ruin the relationship and friendship they both rely heavily on. She saunters up to him and takes his hand once more.

“You’ve shown me the stars, Killian,” she tells him earnestly. “The least I can do is pretend I like you a little more than I do.”

He’s not convinced with her words, especially not with the way she bites her bottom lip after she says it. He knows Emma quite well and though she always says she can tell when he’s lying, he’s not quite sure that she’s just as open a book to him.

Because she’s lying. And given the context of her last words and the situation they’ve found themselves in, he’s afraid to hope what she’s lying about.

“We can sneak back in here during the party,” Killian suggests, leaning closer to her. “Really get a feel for the Milky Way.”

Her nose scrunches up as she smiles. “Is that a promise, Jones?” Emma asks quietly.

“Yes,” he whispers. “One of many more to come.”

[haldora]

Is there such a thing as academic trauma? Like having an evaluation of your work that was so harshly invalidating that it throws into question everything you thought you were good at and has you questioning your words at every turn and feeling like you’re unable to write with authority about anything? Because I’ve been stuck like this for over a year now and I’m looking back at my old papers and wondering how the hell I managed to write that confidently and persuasively. There’s a part of me that feels like someone else must have written them, because I just can’t write that way anymore. I second guess every word; I edit compulsively. For every sentence in which I make the smallest, most uncontroversial assertion, I’m wracked with anxiety until I manage to find a source to back it up. I haven’t fallen into any kind of ’flow’ state in over a year, where the words just come out, where I write pages and pages in a day. Those periods were rare before, don’t get me wrong, but usually the pressure of a deadline and the ensuing panic were enough to push me into one, and they’d happen all the time when I was writing something fun and informal like fanfic or roleplay posts. But I can’t even seem to manage that anymore. No amount of research of citations seems to provide that sense of security that I’m not horrendously misrepresenting something and it’s really been fucking me up inside.

And I know it sounds stupid and like I’m reducing what is more likely a storm of factors down to a single discrete incident, but it really feels like it all comes down to what one professor said to me during my comps defense and how my subsequent TA-ship with him went. And like, he’s an asshole. I know that. He’s an asshole to his undergrads (imo), and even the other grad students who study under him kinda laugh awkwardly when I bring up his abrasiveness. But they’re still able to deal with it, which makes me think that maybe I’m just uniquely thin-skinned and that my reaction is simply the result of an exceedingly fragile ego and an unwillingness to put in the work to live up to his (entirely reasonable) standards. He’s on my dissertation committee now because I couldn’t think of a reasonable and non-neurotic reason for him not to be. I’d kind of hoped that because of (what seems like) his obvious antipathy for me and my work, he’d pass on it and spare us both the trouble, but he agreed and had minimal criticisms for my proposal (which was pretty shocking, let me tell you), and that helped me regain a bit of confidence? But now it feels like everything I write, I’m writing specifically to pass his scrutiny, like his opinion is the only one that matters, and it’s ridiculous and fucked up, but that’s kind of how I am? I know it’s unhealthy, but my whole life I’ve motivated myself through this sort of productive resentment--a kind of “I’LL SHOW THEM. I’LL SHOW THEM ALL” type of thing, which... usually works pretty well? But when it backfires, it’s absolutely disastrous. 

I keep coming back to another experience, though, one I had at my previous institution where I encountered a similar conflict with a professor (not really the same at all, and arguably objectively worse) and experienced this kind of breakdown. Only then, it was more, ah... acute, I guess? It all happened within the span of a month. I lost 20 pounds from stress (kinda wish that would happen again lol) and couldn’t sleep well for weeks, but I was able to resolve it. I had to in order to pass the class. I had to confront him and, for lack of a better phrase, clear my name. And it worked. I still remember how good it felt having that weight lifted off my shoulders. Though I don’t want to go into detail about it, the issue turned out to be an egregious miscommunication on his part. But it turned out well in the end, and I walked out of the experience feeling even more secure of myself and my abilities than I had been before. 

I feel like the same thing is happening now, only on a wider scale, over a longer timeframe, and with no clear possibility of resolution. I don’t know how to clear my name on this. I don’t know how to prove to him that I’m a capable scholar who deserves a place in this field other than raising the standards of my own work to match what I believe his would be, and then live up to them. But the problem is... I don’t actually know what those standards are beyond ‘better than -whatever I would normally think of as satisfactory-’. Which, of course, leaves me in an awful place where I’m dissatisfied with everything I do. 

It’s probably an exaggeration to call this ‘trauma’, but it’s a hole I’ve been stuck in for over a year at this point and I still can’t see a way out. I finally buckled tonight and made an appointment to talk with my supervisor and get an opinion on the (little) progress I’ve made so far and figure out how to move forward.