#unfinished but oh well ��\_(ツ)_/¯

[rosekatara]

Updated version of the sketch under cut ^v^

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Duet - Justin Timberlake X GN Reader

Title: Duet

Justin Timberlake X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Timothy Mosely, Justin's music team (Mentioned), SZA (Mentioned), Beyonce (Mentioned), and Lady Gaga (Mentioned)

{May or may not be loosely inspired by Justin's new song Selfish ¯\_(ツ)_/¯}

WC: 3,652

Warnings: Shy Reader, Idiots in love, friends to lovers, nicknames, teasing, banter, flirting, slight suggestiveness, mini angst, and fluff

Sitting in your swivel chair, you leaned back against it, listening to the music coming through the speakers. You had always found music to be calming. It never fails to soothe your mind when you are stressed out or tired. Music was your escape from the world around you. You worked at a recording studio, as a soundboard specialist, where you operated professional audio mixing consoles. You were beyond overjoyed when you had been hired by the recording studio. And you were beyond grateful to be able to work with some of the greatest music artists to have ever grace the Earth.

As the music came to a stop, you nodded your head approvingly, smiling to yourself. Leaning forward, you turned on the mic, "Alright, Mr. Timberlake, you're good." You spoke, looking up at the glass window as he took off the headphones and exited the sound booth.

You loved working with Justin and his team. If you had told yourself five years ago that you'd be working with the Justin Timberlake, you probably wouldn't have believed it. But here you were now, doing just that. You couldn't believe how lucky you were. And you weren’t complaining.

"It sounds great," Justin said as you played back the song, "But, um, I feel like it's missing something." He added, looking somewhat puzzled as he stared down at the soundboard, mumbling some of the lyrics as they came out of the speakers while he thought.

Mr. Mosley nodded, "I understand what you mean. It does seem... Unfinished." He spoke, before visibly perking his head up as an idea filled his mind, "Do you think making it a duet would help?"

"A duet?" Justin mimicked, looking up from the soundboard to Timothy Mosley. "Yeah, yeah… That sounds like a great idea actually," He nodded with a slight grin, "But, who should it be with?"

Timothy hummed, frowning slightly in thought, "I don't know," He spoke before looking down at you, "Could you make us a list, Y/N? I would have my secretary do it but she's on maternity leave."

"Oh, yeah, sure." You agreed with a few nods of your head, "I’d be happy to do it." You said, immediately grabbing your notebook from your lap, and clicking your pen, already writing down a few names.

~~~

For the next couple of days, you contacted a plethora of other singers, from SZA, Beyonce, and even Lady Gaga to name a few that you believed voices would match well with Justin's; the first two artists had sung with him before in previous projects such as ‘Trolls: World Tour’ and the song, ‘Until The End Of Time,’ respectively, but sadly, their schedules wouldn’t have allowed them to work on the song with Justin.

Though, that Monday, you were tidying up the studio, collecting piles of papers, pens, - the occasional snack wrappers - and whatnot as you softly sang one of your favorite songs. You often sang while you cleaned during your lunch break after eating, to clear your mind of anything stressful or just to help time fly by as you waited for Justin and the team to head back in. It technically wasn’t a part of your job, but you liked doing it. It was nice putting things away near the end of the day, making the room look nice and tidy.

Getting to your favorite part in the song, you felt yourself being swept away by the familiar lyrics running off in your head - like your own personal karaoke - and you allowed your voice to carry you along as you started to sway back and forth to the beat; the passion evident in your voice. Almost dancing around the coffee table, you gathered the papers, sheets of music, and other notes together for later reorganizing, completely unaware of the person leaning against the doorframe.

Holding the papers close to your chest, you felt your voice fade as you finished your song and you opened your eyes, quickly taking notice of the man standing there. Your eyes widened as the papers promptly fell to the ground from your startlement; the calm expression on your face quickly dropped into a horrified frown. Justin gave you an apologetic smile, but his eyes were bright with amazement as he spoke up "I’m sorry I startled you. I didn’t know you could sing."

You blinked rapidly, hoping that seeing Justin at the door was all just some bad dream, “Oh, uh, Mr. Timberlake. I’m sorry. I thought your break wasn't over until one-thirty.” You spoke, eyeing the clock on the wall as you were clearly avoiding his last statement before you got onto your knees to begin picking up the fallen papers with your shaking hands.

“I, uh, wanted to grab the lyrics for the next song. Practice a bit.” He spoke, entering the room fully before crouching down to help you gather the fallen papers and music sheets. "But you're avoiding the subject..." He added, slightly amused as he handed you a few papers; watching you, intrigued.

Glancing up at him, you suddenly felt very nervous, more so than before. "I-I'm sorry." You quickly spoke as you tried to focus on picking up the rest of the papers. "I didn't realize you were listening to me..." You replied, your words sort of trailing off as you looked up, finding yourself stuck by the look in his eyes. He looked genuinely interested. When did his eyes become so captivating? Such a deep, ocean blue… You couldn't remember. “Uh, yeah, here you go.” You spoke, swallowing thickly as you handed him the sheet that he wanted, quickly breaking your gaze away from his.

Justin’s smile widened slightly as he took the paper, offering his hand out to you. You looked at his hand, then up at him, hesitating; his eyebrows raised a little, waiting for you to take it. "I'm not going to bite." He spoke up playfully as you hesitated again. 

Slowly placing your hand in his, he gave your hand a slight squeeze before he pulled you back onto your feet. "Thanks..." You muttered, anxiety-ridden and embarrassed. 

"So, um... About that search for another singer-" Justin began once you were both standing, but you quickly, accidentally interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry, sir.” You began, noticing how he was still holding your hand, your face feeling intensely warm as you reluctantly pulled your hand away before clearing your throat, “I have plans to contact the ones left on the list after lunch to see their availability."

"Don't contact them," Justin spoke quickly, watching as you turned slightly, placing the small stack of papers on the coffee table. "I want you to sing it."

Your eyes widened again as you snapped your gaze over to him, and your hands faltered at your side, "Huh?" You replied, your jaw dropping slightly, not expecting him to say that. "You do?"

Justin smiled, stepping towards you, "I think you have an incredible voice, Y/N.”

"M- Me?" You stammered, pointing a finger at yourself as he just simply nodded before stuffing his hands in his front Jeans pockets.

"Yeah, and you don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ we’ve known each other long enough for you to just call me Justin." He reminded you, and that was true.

You had known Justin for the past year and a half. And during that year and a half, you had gotten to know the person behind the pop star. You knew his favorite color was baby blue, that he loved ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,’ and liked Coldplay; there was even a time you bought him a pair of sneakers for his birthday that he had mentioned to you, since you knew he loved collecting them. Justin was so sweet, so compassionate, and you never would’ve thought he’d be so funny, but he made you laugh often.

And Justin had gotten to know you as well, your favorite color, your hobbies, and whatnot. If anything, you would call him your friend, but that was the last thing on your mind. All you could think about was the fact that he wanted you to sing with him on the song - and that he said that your voice was incredible... 

“You know,” Justin began, walking over to your swivel chair and taking a seat, “I like to think that I know a lot about you, but I didn’t know you could sing.”

“It’s not really something I tell people,” You shrug your shoulders, fiddling with a corner of a piece of paper as you worried on your bottom lip, “But you want me to sing? With you on your song?" You asked, still extremely shocked by his request, trying to wrap your mind around it; though it wasn’t too unbelievable, to an extent, he seemed to have trusted you enough to even bring up the idea in the first place.

Justin shrugged casually, twisting side to side slightly in your chair, legs spread out, "Yeah. I want you to sing it with me." He spoke, glancing at you, "Why? It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just thought that your voice would work really well for the song."

You stared at him, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as the words seemed to catch in your throat, and you could barely breathe, "Wow," You breathed out, "No, I mean, are you sure? I don't know, wouldn't you rather want someone who's actually a singer? I’m not trained to sing, I just do it for fun. I’ll probably mess it all up and ruin it. I'm only a soundboard special-"

"Y/N, sweetheart,” He paused his movements, interrupting you this time, and ending your nervous rant, “I’m sure you won’t ruin anything. I actually believe you can make it better." He insisted again, watching as you stepped a few steps backward to lean against the arm of the sofa, your hand running through your hair, "Would you sing with me?" He asked finally, his eyes focused on your features. You couldn't deny that something was enticing about the way those deep, blue eyes seemed to stare right at your soul.

Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him, unable to speak as he waited patiently for your answer, knowing that he needed one. "I don't know... I mean, I don't really sing well with others around me." 

"I, uh, know this is a bit sudden, and it could- could be out of your comfort zone, but could you think about it, please?" He then stood from the chair, taking a few steps to stand in front of you, almost looming from the clear height difference in both of you. “I would really love to work with you. I mean, we already work well together, so this should be a piece of cake."

You didn't say anything for a moment, "I... I will think about it, sir- sorry. I mean, Justin." You winced, only for his expression to soften considerably.

"No, no need to apologize, Y/N." He told you before he began walking towards the door. Pausing, he turned back to face you, his hand pressing against the doorframe that he had previously been leaning against, "Just think about it, okay?"

You watched him leave before collapsing into your chair, your heart was hammering in your chest as you ran a shaky hand through your hair. "Sing with Justin?" You muttered, pulling your fingers out of your hair to stare down at your hand, the hand that Justin had held momentarily, but for what felt like forever, "Wow." You laughed lightly, the corners of your lips twitching.

~~~

It only took you two days to decide and before you knew it, you found yourself in the recording booth with Justin. It was strange; being the one that was going to be recorded, and not the one recording. The room was smaller than you had thought it would be, with soft padding on the walls and the door; it was almost claustrophobic.

Staring down at the music stand before you, you stared down at the blue highlighter that was doing its job of highlighting your lyrics for you. The headphones were heavy on your head, cupped over your ears, blocking out most of the sounds around you. You didn’t want to look up, feeling like everyone was staring at you; you could feel their eyes burning holes into your skull.

"Hey," You heard a muffled voice, taking off your headphones, you looked over at Justin a few feet from beside you at his own music stand and hanging mic. He gave you a reassuring smile, his eyes softening at the nervous expression on your face, "You can do this."

His words somehow managed to make you feel slightly better, enough for you to smile - albeit anxiously - back at him, "Can I?" You muttered to him.

“I know this is a bit intimidating." He began, shrugging a shoulder, his voice low but comforting, "But something that helps me is just imagining I'm somewhere else. Like my bedroom or the shower-"

"The shower?" You laughed a little, feeling yourself relax a little- just like he planned - as he lightly laughed along with you before answering.

"Well, that's where some people usually sing, don't think too much into it, I'm grasping at straws here." Tilting his head slightly as he reaches his hand out. “Or you can hold just my hand, if that’ll help,” He offered out his hand to you as your eyes glanced from his face, to his hand, and back; a small smirk slowly spreading on his face, “I’m not going to bite.”

You sputtered out another small, breathy laugh, “Thanks, J.” Justin’s smirk grew back into a grin at the little nickname as you placed your headphones back on and took his awaiting hand.

With a deep breath, you heard Mosely speak through the speakers, “Y/N, you ready?” His sudden voice startled you slightly as you snapped your head up, seeing him and two writers staring right back at you. You glanced over at Justin one more time before nodding your head, feeling your stomach do flips.

Mosely smiled back, and you were glad that you couldn’t see the amusement in his eyes as you quickly looked down at your lyrics, "Okay, then." He said before looking over at Justin, “Justin, whenever you're ready."

You felt your heart skip a beat when the music started up and Justin soon began singing. Being right there, beside him, was a far different experience than when you were the one outside of the booth; or when you’d hear him mumble a few lyrics during practice. You were overwhelmed by it. He sounded sensational. You glanced over at him, he seemed so calm, and it made sense. He had been singing for years, decades; of course, he'd be so calm, so at ease. Music was his second home. He was born to sing.

You turned your head and kept your eyes down, focusing on the music and your lyrics and before you knew it, it was finally your turn. You let out a small, silent breath as you let the music wash over you, letting it slowly fill you with confidence. Shutting your eyes - having already memorized all your lines - you sang your first couple of lyrics, unable to see the look on Justin's face. 

He watched you, the expression on his face unreadable; he only stared, eyes slightly widened, admiring you as you sang his song flawlessly. He had been so glad - proud even that you went out of your comfort zone - that you decided to give this all a try, and now he was sure that he had chosen the perfect singer; no other singer could do it justice. His smile grew as your voice carried throughout the room beautifully, taking note of how your body visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping, softly swaying, letting the music guide you; he was completely entranced by you.

Soon enough, Justin's voice then began to blend in with yours, harmonizing perfectly, and just like that, your singing sessions with him began.

The entire recording went by in a flash and before you knew it, a few weeks had gone by. You and Justin were finished with the song, and you were back behind the soundboard, and for some reason, you sort of missed singing in the booth. Maybe because it helped you get over a few of your fears, or maybe because you got to spend more time with Justin - that wasn’t at a work party, event, and so on. Either way, you were just getting used to singing with him. And had begun to enjoy the experience.

Justin was feeling quite the same. It felt like his time singing with you had gone by in a flash, and it wasn't very long until he found himself falling for you. Don’t get him wrong, he liked you the moment he saw you, but this time, it was different. There were times when he had to stop himself from grinning uncontrollably at the sight or thought of you, even before the both of you sang together, and it scared him a bit. He would close his eyes and see your face, letting your voice wash over him like ocean waves; your voice like a siren pulling him in.

He would also have to remind himself to not stare at you sometimes. There were so many times when he caught himself looking at you as you worked the soundboard through the window as he sang, or were writing in your notebook during a break. Sometimes you would catch him, your eyes meeting his as a breathtaking smile would spread across your lips. He would do anything to see that smile of yours.

He wanted to tell you everything. Everything that was on his mind.

You sat in your chair, listening as Justin sang in the booth. You hummed along to the song, already knowing it all by heart as you double-checked the soundboard - like you usually did when he sang, just in case some button got pushed or a lever was nudged. Taking a glance, you looked up at Justin through the window, only to see him looking right back at you as he sang. You couldn't contain the smile that spread across your face as you watched him. The way he was singing, looking at you so intensely, it was like he was singing the lyrics to his new song just for you. And as cheesy as it sounded, it made your heart skip a beat and your stomach tied up into a couple of knots. You couldn't tear your eyes away.

But you had to, snapping your gaze away from his, you cleared your throat lightly as the song slowly came to a close. You paused the recording after the song completely ended and turned on the mic, "That was great, J," You spoke, before collecting your papers and notebook.

"Yep!" Mosely exclaimed, "That's a wrap for the day."

Grabbing your bag, you slid your notebook and paperwork away for the day before standing from your chair and grabbing your jacket from where it hung on the back of it; shrugging it on.

"Y/N," You heard Justin's voice call to you, making you turn your head, smiling at the man as you finished buttoning up your winter jacket.

"Hmm, yeah, Justin?" You asked, looping the strap of your bag over your head, letting it rest on your left waist. "Is there something you need?"

"I, uh, just thought I'd ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me tonight," He answered, slipping on his own coat. You couldn't help but think that he looked really good as the sunset shone down on him through the window, highlighting his cheekbones, jawline, and the blue of his eyes; casting him in a glow. "I know this really nice restaurant a couple blocks down the road we can go to."

You looked at him, biting your lower lip, "Yeah," You answered finally, "Yeah, I'd love to have dinner with you, Justin." You nodded before glancing away as your cheeks felt warm. You couldn't help the small smile that tugged on the corners of your lips.

Justin grinned as he watched you, feeling the butterflies in his stomach as he placed a hand in the pocket of his jeans, fiddling with his car keys as he walked over to you. "It's a date, then."

Your eyes widened slightly at his words, "Date?" You repeated before mentally slapping yourself. Of course, it was a date. Why else would he ask you?

"Unless you don't want it to be?" Justin replied, his words trailing off slightly as he looked down at you, hoping he didn't misread your interest in him. “We could just go as just friends, if that’s what you want.”

You bit your lower lip again, debating it for a moment, but your mind was made up the moment he asked you to dinner, "No, I- It's a date." You replied, and you were sure that your shy - yet excited - smile was ridiculously large on your face.

"Cool, cool." Justin spoke candidly, trying to hide how nervous you truly made him as he offered you his hand - he hadn’t felt like this in a long time, "Shall we?"

You looked up at him, once again, falling into the depths of his eyes, slipping your hand into his, "You aren’t going to bite, are you?” You asked, surprising yourself with your sudden confidence as Justin just gave you a smirk in return.

“No unless you want me to, baby.” He answered mischievously, feeling a warmth in the pit of his stomach at the sound of your little laugh, your free hand slapping his arm lightly as he intertwined his fingers between yours; squeezing your hand gently.

---

Main Masterlist | Celebrity Masterlist

[recurring-polynya]

For the fanfic ask meme :D: 2. Do you read/reread your own fics?, 3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?, 5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?, and 10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

(question list is here)

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

lol, yes, constantly. My first and foremost audience for my fics is me, I just share them because I thought other people would like them, too.

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I answered that one here.

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

This last winter, while I was coming up with tons of unworkable ideas for Renruki Week, I really wanted to do a reincarnation AU and shoehorn it into the "Love Over a Lifetime" theme. I got hit with Big Angsty idea of a story where instead of having Renji transfers to Squad 11, Aizen killed him off instead (nominally, by sending him off on a mission above his skill level with no backup, although it very well could have involved one of Aizen's Hollow experiments--in any case, it's just broadly accepted that he "died in action"). The thing is, though, he gets reincarnated as an Ordinary Citizen of Karakura Town. He's sort of a reverse-ghost-- he's kind of directionless and bad at accomplishing anything because he has this Unfinished Business in the afterlife that he has no memory of. He's still Renji, though, so he's friendly and knows everybody. He's in his 30s and works as a delivery guy, so he knows everyone in town, and regularly makes deliveries to the Urahara Shouten and the Kurosaki Clinic. He also coaches kiddie soccer, including Karin's team. In other words, he's just this nice young adult guy that everyone knows. The particular scene that I really wanted to write was Rukia coming out of the Shouten after ripping Urahara a new one about shitty soul pager batteries or something, and runs into Renji carrying on his long-running beef with Jinta, and he's like "hey, have we met somewhere, you seem familiar?" and then I cry a million tears.

Anyway, I couldn't come up with a workable story arc for it and a trap I am especially always cautious not to fall into is "rewrite the first arc of Bleach" so the only thing I've ever written is the opening bit, where Kira writes Rukia a letter to tell her that Renji is dead.

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

(spoilers for What We Do with Our Hearts under the cut)

I definitely thought more people would guess that Ginrei was dating his tennis instructor, mostly on the basis of why else would I put a hot, beefy tennis instructor in this fanfic? And then every time Byakuya was like "WHY is the tennis instructor here?" and people would comment "Why IS the tennis instructor here?" and I would be like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but inside I was like "oh no i hope this plot twist lands well."

Anyway, when the reveal came out, a lot of people were very surprised, but also generally delighted about it, so all's well that end's well.

[feralkwe]

twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by @icescrabblerjerky THANK YOU!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? i have 32 works on ao3. i have a few more lost to time in ff.net, devart, and tumblr itself, but i tried to consolidate and focus the ones i care about to ao3.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 524,846. like i said above, i've lost a lot of fic to time and venue, so i know i have written much more in my life, but these are the ones i kept.

3. What fandoms do you write for? dragon age, final fantasy xiv, marvel, and mass effect, though all my mass effect fic was hosted other places and i no longer have it. i've also dabbled in fable 3, but that was exactly one work and it was ben finn/chicken crackfic.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

a champion's expectations, a dragon age 2 fic (f!hawke/anders/sebastian) that started with a cracky idea that was too rich to resist and sprawled a little out of control.

dossiers and snapshots, an unfinished marvel fic (clint barton/hawkeye x natasha romanoff/black widow and a dash of bobbi morse/mockingbird).

a hero's lamentations, dragon age origins (f!cousland/alistair, f!cousland/morrigan disaster triangle).

a queen's regrets, dragon age origins (awakening and witch hunt) fic that explores the repercussions of cousland's choices in dao.

and

food for thought, a little dragon age inquisition one-shot (f!trevelyan/cullen) that came to me fully formed.

5. Do you respond to comments? it's a habit i've gotten into! i was too shy and thought it seemed arrogant when i first started out, but i've come to love the back and forth.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? hmm that's a toss up between a hero's lamentations and a champion's expectations. no one was actually happy leaving those fics, but probably the latter, since da2 kind of lends itself to that tone of ending, depending on choices.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? without a doubt, a herald's faith. it might be my only truly happy ending fic lol.

8. Do you get hate on fics? when i first wrote a queen's regrets i did, but largely on tumblr. people just could not handle my treatment of alistair. oh well, i didn't write it for them. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i do! i even fancy myself pretty good at it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? i used to. the only one i committed to for any length of time was a dragon age/buffy/angel fic that is lost to time, and probably for the better.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i doubt it, but anything is possible.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? someone asked if they could translate a queen's regrets into russian, but i don't know if that ever happened.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nope! kind of always wanted to, but the idea is a little daunting to me.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? hmm, i think it changes depending on my mood and current fixation, but i think the ones that have endured the longest has been clint barton/natasha romanoff/bobbi morse (with a dash of bucky). i doubt i'll ever write it again, but it's definitely one that has stuck with me.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? any of my hawkeye fics. i think my marvel fandom days are long, long behind me.

16. What are your writing strengths? i like to think i do characters very well. i agonize over every word i write for them, but i like to think i do a good job of it. i have a special love of writing combat. also i like to think i have a good handle on structure at this point in my writing career.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? lol recognizing when i've done something. i am very good at tropes but not so great at realizing i've done one intentionally.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? i like it when it's done well, i guess. it depends on the fic, the fandom, the language, etc. i like it more in original fiction, but i've never quit reading a fic because of it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? if you walk it back far enough, i write babysitter's club self-insert fic when i was about 9.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? a queen's regrets. it came the easiest to me, was really fun to write, and i still think it's some of my best work. a special mention goes to a secret of bees, a little sif/loki fic that i've always wanted to rewrite and make massive changes to. i will be chasing the white whale that is the style i managed in it for the rest of my life, i think.

i tag @yamisnuffles, @veliseraptor, @leggywillow, and @sketchyfletch. and anyone else who would like to do it!

[thegoddesswater]

8- If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go? 13- What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy? 22- How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Thanks Lano! Finally working through my ask backlog here. :D

8 - Tough choice! I'd be way more likely to try to write something without dialogue than without action (though, in the past I have written things so dialogue-heavy that they might as well be action-less). No dialogue seems like one of those things that I would challenge myself to do for a short while. So, it would probably be short and I think it would likely veer pretty quickly into some kind of uncanny territory, or it would be something with an isolating vibe to it.

13 - I'm trying to think of something that is difficult for me to write about and I'm having a hard time coming up with it. Which probably means that whatever falls into this category is something I ignore so hard, I can't even think of it. I used to be able to write gratuitous violence with the odd gleeful abandon that I think only teenage girls are capable of - and I can't do that anymore. But I also don't think I quite want to. Some of the stuff little me wrote back then makes me feel queasy.

Grief and death feel like they come disturbingly naturally to me though. Which doesn't mean that I'm just killing characters off left, right, centre, but I feel like I do it well when it happens?

22 - Me? Organized?? Oh mercy. I have probably about two dozen sticky notes spread throughout my house with different snippets of different stories jotted on them. Then I have the journal in my nightstand and the loose-leaf paper thrown into my agenda and crumpled at the bottom of my work backpack.

Dabble is my software of choice for writing and it's mostly where I put everything. Though I also have a bajillion google docs and ancient MS word files. And my Dabble files are an absolutely shameful mess. This is what it looks like when I open it:

And you may be wondering what's so bad about it - it just looks like I have lots of projects, right? Alas, three of those visible files are multi-project dumping grounds and my chaotic squirrel brain often prefers to work in those than in the properly labelled files. So content for Heart of a Warrior, for example, is in the appropriately labelled file, with additional content scattered in various sections of "Chaos of 23" and "Unfinished Business." And it's not as though I couldn't have just created multiple files within the proper project files to try keeping things together. I just apparently prefer to "organize" my projects with all the same care that a tornado would use when dismantling a house of cards. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[haylorinthewoods]

Yeah the timing thing is just an excuse some haylors use to explain away why they’re not together 10 years later, if either of them had any interest in being together, or even associating with eachother in any capacity it would’ve happened by now, I think most haylors forget that the entire basis of their relationship was Harry not definitively deciding if he even wanted to be with her in the first place until it was too late, yeah other outside force’s contributed to it, but he clearly didn’t know if he even wanted to be in a committed relationship, even now he still kinda acts like that, I’m into haylor as a concept but some ppl take it too far and overly romanticize things that simply don’t exist

This is a solid take. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve participated in the romanticization of Haylor, and I completely get why the timing aspect still has people hooked. I blame the 1989 secret message/poem (it’s still so good?!!). I do think there is something special there, but not in the sense that they’re two tortured souls separated by bad timing and the fear of falling for each other again. That just sounds ridiculous in this day and age!

And I really do think haylor is special (that sounds so lame but I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t true!! ) I LOVE the wink and nods they’ve given each other throughout the years. Unspoken dialogue, pop call and response, like pleeeeeeease they are iconic. And I think Question…? is such a perfect 2022 haylor song. That first verse had me on my ass when I first heard it. It hints at maybe some unfinished business, some unresolved feelings, but it’s also very oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[simping-at-midknight]

Reblogging from my main. What's this mean for my unfinished fics? I have no clue! Maybe they'll just sit there and rot in my Google docs forever.

I have a lot of unfinished Oney Plays and Newgrounds stuff I've written that hasn't been put out there, which I hate leaving stuff unfinished, but I simply can't find it in me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ oh well!

I'm in between hyperfixations right now (help I'm so bored) and I've got a creeping feeling the next one is gonna be Sonic... so... Lord help y'all if that comes to fruition

[littledreamling]

WIP tag game (though I'm extraordinarily late in actually doing it, oops)! Tagged by @valeriianz (thanks for tagging me!)

Rules: latest line(s) from your WIP & tag as many people as WIP snippets:

He could feel lips against the delicate skin of his ankles, the gentlest brush of pure adoration, a king on his knees in supplication.

-Unholy, a (sort of) bdsm fic, though so far it's just Hob hanging out in a bar

Hob hummed, a quiet contemplative sound. He had learned, over the course of his mind-bogglingly long life, that empty words only helped the one who expressed them. He could try to relate with stories of his own mother, a sharp and severe woman who probably never should’ve borne children, but no words could ever encompass or soften the reality of the relationship between the personification of human unconsciousness and subconsciousness and his mother, the personification of the very fabric of this and every other universe. Once again, it was a migraine waiting to happen.

-In Sickness and In Health; it's not the very last line I wrote but it's the last one I'm sure that I'm keeping, so that has to count for something

“-Dream. He’s kind of scary, right? Like… scary in the way loneliness is scary. Do you ever get lonely? Is there a word for when you want to listen to the same song over and over and over and over and over but you get tired of it but you don’t like how any other song sounds?”

“I don’t think so,” Hob said amiably. “But you could make one, I suppose.”

-When Delirium Comes to Visit, or the one time that my penchant for run-on sentences is actually beneficial

“Apparently he has quite a grudge against Shakespeare, too,” Emily said. “At least, that’s what all of the history majors say. I wonder if he knew him.”

Rose had to cover her laugh with a cough at the thunderous look on Hob’s face. Her friends, however, mistook her laugh as disbelief, and turned to her almost as one.

“Okay, doubter,” Maria said, “what’s your theory?”

-Snitches Get Stitches, a fic about gossiping and friendship and Hob's students fueling the rumor mill about their eccentric and impassioned professor, much to said professor's chagrin

I'm not sure who's been tagged in this so if you see this and want to participate, consider this me tagging you! I'll also tag @wyvernquill @obvious-captain-rogers @words-aremy-weapons and @staroftheendless if you want to participate!

[bruhstories]

Coffee

Summary: A smutty (and fluffy!) drabble in which you and Jean end up making a beautiful mistake.

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x Fem!Reader

Warnings & Content: cheating, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 917

A/N: i am so against cheating irl, but fiction is fiction ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hair dishevelled, tie loose, Jean was wracking his brain with the yellow files on his desk. It was a mistake postponing data entry for Friday afternoon, because his colleagues already left and he was stuck doing overtime with the most tedious task known to mankind.

"Yeah, I don't know when I'll be back. Don't yell at me, it's not my fault the workload's huge! Babe, I woke up at 5 to do the dishes and laundry, cut me some slack. You want what? A selfie? You seriously don't believe I'm at work. I'm literally the only one in the office! Fine, I'll send you a fucking selfie." Jean took a picture, sent it and slammed his phone on the desk. "I need a coffee." He sighed, got up and walked to the office kitchen, not expecting to find anyone there.

But you were there, sipping on some green tea, long, black fingernails tapping on the table with no particular rhythm, hair braided in a loose plait to reveal the beautiful moon tattoo on the side of your neck and pierced ears. You were the complete opposite of Jean's girlfriend — independent, assertive, mysterious and most importantly, caring. It would be a lie to say that Jean didn't think about you when he fell asleep. You were everything he ever wanted — you were also the right person at the completely wrong time.

"Hi." You greeted him, voice melodious and soft.

"Hey, Y/N. You stuck doing overtime, too?" Jean smiled while walking straight to the coffee machine. Empty, great.

"Not exactly stuck. I just saw your files and decided to do some extra work to keep you company. It gets pretty boring here if you're all alone."

"Oh, you don't have to stay for me." He refilled the appliance and waited.

"Nonsense. You'll go insane all by yourself. I can bring my laptop next to you if you don't mind."

"Eh, what the hell, sure, why not?" Jean shrugged. You were colleagues after all. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he answered the call. "Of course I'm still at work. Honey, I told you- no, I can't leave it unfinished. Please, stop yelling." The man glanced at you before excusing himself to take the call somewhere private.

The coffee machine beeped and you placed your tea on the table, proceeding to pour Jean a cup of coffee, just a hint of milk and two teaspoons of brown sugar.

"I'm so sorry about that, Y/N." He came back and you handed him the mug.

"Don't worry about it."

"Oh, this perfect! How did you know how I take my coffee?"

"You told me on your first day at the company, silly."

"That was a year ago." Jean deadpanned.

"Yes?"

"Jesus, not even my girlfriend remembers this."

Yikes, you didn't mean to eavesdrop, but on occasion you heard his conversations with his girlfriend, and Jean truly seemed unhappy.

It wasn't your intention to seduce him, either. Yet here you were, skirt pulled up, pantyhose ripped and his cock buried deep in your cunt.

"Fuck," he breathed between your breasts, "you take it so well."

You two were lucky no one was in the building.

The doorman usually didn't patrol the floors, and the janitors would come in the morning. And so, when he pinned you to the desk, you didn't protest. You only opened your legs.

"Ah, Jean, you're so- oh- big!" You mewled, his thrusts rapid and needy, your arms around his neck. He fucked you desperately, like he hasn't done this before, and you couldn't help but wonder when was the last time his girlfriend let him fuck her.

The second time it happened, you both promised never to repeat it. You were on your knees, eagerly sucking his cock while he whispered degrading praises. It was an accident that you both worked overtime again, but you didn't let the opportunity slip away, either. With your cheeks hollowed, you frantically fingered yourself, your moans reverberating in the broom closet, his hands tangled in your hair.

Then it became a habit. Every Friday night Jean was balls deep in you and you wouldn't have it any other way. He stretched your cunt in ways you didn't think were possible. He'd fuck you on his desk, in the office kitchen, on the floor, in the bathroom stalls, on the sink, against a wall, in your car. It was never boring with Jean, and he couldn't get enough of you. Not just your body, but your mind and heart as well.

By the nineteenth time, he had already broken up with his girlfriend and moved in with you, because you cherished, respected and appreciated him. He still fucked you like it was the first time, always needy and desperate. It felt as if you were made for each other, forged by destiny to be together. It wasn't just the sex that you enjoyed, it was the way he treated you, the delicious food he cooked, the little things he did for you.

You lost count when Jean was down on one knee, a velvet box in his trembling hand. He professed his love for you, and without hesitation, you said 'yes, a million times, yes!' It brought him so much joy that he never wanted to let go of you, and you never regretted the decision of working overtime that night, you never regretted making him coffee that same night, and you never regretted spreading your legs for him the first time.

[fire-lady-ilah]

Thank you to @theboyfrommakapu for the tag! Post under the read more.

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

26 total (although I think I have 2 or 3 that I either orphaned or deleted, can’t remember) on uhmeduh.

Oh, and 2 on another account I made specifically for my bad 10 year old me’s fanfics. No, you don’t get that one.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

126 862. Which is, frankly, more than I thought. I think it’s grown quite a bit in 2021, to be fair.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

7, according to AO3. One is an original work, so I guess 6? Except Far Cry 4 and 5 are considered different by AO3, as are Persona 2 and 5. I personally consider it like 4 or 5 fandoms.

A:TLA— 20 fics

Persona 2 & 5— 1 fic (crossover between the two)

Far Cry 4 & 5— 1 fic (crossover between the two)

PJO and related fandoms— 3 fics

Original Work— 1 fic

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Silence is a Virtue — 191 kudos

2. sometimes you’re born evil (sometimes you’re not) — 149 kudos

3. In Which Ajay Just Wants a Vacation — 91 kudos

4. musings of a common man — 75 kudos

5. Lost. [tied with] undercurrent — 37 kudos each

Silence is a Virtue and IWAJWAV are both multi chapter fics at 23.6k and 19.2k, respectively. sybe (syn), moacm, and undercurrent are all part of the same series of short fics and range from 4.4k (unfinished) to 7k. Lost. is a theoretical first chapter of a multi chapter fic. 4/6 fics are ATLA, 1 is Far Cry, 1 is PJO.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yeah! I used to not because I’m incredibly awkward about it, but when I started commenting on fics myself and realized how nice it is when the author replies, I started doing it myself. I really enjoy recognizing regular commenters. I just need to stop talking so much about worldbuilding and hinting at stuff in my replies, I think ^^’.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm. Probably either what is a legacy to a dead man (it is worth far more to those still living) or Shattered Porcelain. The former is most likely more angsty to readers, but the latter holds a special place in my mind because I know my OCs intimately well.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Most of them, to be honest. I am, at my core, a fluff writer, even if I also enjoy throwing in sprinkles of angst every so often. The entire the dragon king series is going to end pretty happy if it goes according to plan. If I had to pick a finished fic then probably Apricot Blossoms— it’s just sweet kids in love, you barely notice the darkness on the horizon.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Kinda? Sorta? Not really? Two of my published fics are crossovers but they’re like, crossovers within the same extended fandom.

Oh, wait, that one fic I wrote and published when I was 11 was a weird Harry Potter and mild Avengers crossover. So yeah, I guess.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really, no. I occupy a pretty niche area in all the fandoms I write in, so you kind of have to search out the content I make. I’m also not popular at all in the grand scheme of things, which I’m mildly thankful for. I have some popular fic writers as friends and I see some of their commenters sometimes.

10) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I guess? It’s not something I make a habit of, I just in general am not that horny, but I have one published smutfic on AO3 and a ficlet on Tumblr that, if it isn’t really classified as smutc definitely is close. The smut I write is pretty soft and loving and is exclusively LuZhao so far.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. If someone wants to I’m all for it, and theoretically I could translate my own fics into two other languages, but if there isn’t a demand there wouldn’t be much purpose other than me practicing. Who knows though, maybe one of my fics on my account will show up translated into French or Norwegian by me. Or maybe Russian, but that would be an effort. My Russian... isn’t great.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Currently (kinda, fixing my laptop has made it take a hot second) co-writing an OC centric fic with @theboyfrommakapu. I also betaread two of @izzymrdb’s fics, and she called me their coauthor in a comment once so... I guess that counts? I also had plans to make a massive crossover with my own fic and two of my friends but then I fell out of PJO and into ATLA pretty hard.

14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

LuZhao, definitely. I’ve just created enough stuff around it to make it my favourite. I’m also quite fond of Jastavian in the realm of PJO.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I fully intend to finish my two main multichapter fics eventually, but I doubt I’ll ever finish Butterfly Kisses. Especially to the extent I have it in my mind.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Uh... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Maybe worldbuilding within an established world? I actually prefer AUs to canon compliance, but when I want something to be canon compliant then I will make sure that it is as fully canon compliant as possible (or, to the extent that canon doesn’t contradict itself). For example, at the moment all of my OCs are completely canon compliant. If I somehow were asked to publish them, they would not contradict any existing work. I put a lot of work into my OCs and worldbuilding and it definitely shows.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

If you asked my girlfriend? My paragraphs are too long and I don’t know how to use commas. She’s right about that, of course.

If you asked me? I’d probably say something a little more vague. I’m bad at the whole “communicating just enough” aspect of writing (and of life). I tend to get absorbed by my worldbuilding and want to tell everyone every little detail, which makes no sense because you don’t need to know it for the fic’s promises.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

So long as a translation is provided, I see no issue if it’s accurate. One of my first fandoms was Hetalia so... yeah.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m not sure if it was Harry Potter, Sherlock, or Hetalia. But it was definitely one of those three and I was about 10 when I wrote it.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Surprisingly I haven’t mentioned it so far, but solntse moye / luna moya. Azulon and Ilah have a relationship I really like, and they both have such distinct inner voices.

Tagging:

@percabeth4life @izzymrdb @crookedmouth-mountainbones @ohmygodtheywereparabatai (I know you write on Tumblr so this would be hard, but consider it another request for you to post your stuff on AO3 ❤️) @thetruecthulhu9 @ariya-167

[f33itan]

Hello! <3

Sooo I would like to request a match up with a character. I'm a little bit scared because I usually don't talk a lot about myself ^^'

I'm a bisexual girl. I'm an INTP, a True Neutral and my big 3 is libra sun, pisces moon and capricorn rising (honestly idk if you're into astrology but I saw that others also wrote their placements) + my love language is quality time.

I'm very introverted and need a lot of alone time. If I'm with my 2 friends I talk a lot. 🤪 I'm very sarcastic but only with the people I love. Others say that my voice is too quiet and sometimes they can barely hear it. 😤 I jump from topic to another during conversations.

I like to learn new things. I read a lot and sometimes draw but I'm not very good at it and that disappoints me. ಠ︵ಠ

Cliche, but music is my life lol. I listen to mostly rock/metal but I also like pop, rap, k-pop. I daydream a lot.

I'm the type of person who starts a lot of projects and usually don't finish them. Also I'm very indecisive BUT if I finally made a decision others can't make me to change it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I find it hard to talk about my feelings because most of the time idk what do I feel. 😬 If somebody is sad or something, I can find the balance when should I give advice to them or be emotionally supportive.

Lololol I hope I gave enough information to you ^^ Also I only know the HxH and AoT characters, but you can give me from another anime, too *3*

Have a good day!! <3

I don't understand a single thing about astrology 😭✋🏻

I STARTED A WHOLE BUNCH OF BULLET POINTS WITH THE CHARACTERS NAME IM SORRYY I COULDN'T THINK OF A SENTENCE STARTER LMAO

The wonderful F33itan says your matchup is...

Shinobu Kocho from Demon Slayer ; Kimetsu No yaiba!

You're Shinobu's pride and joy in this world (besides Kanao of course).

She'll sometimes tease you in public, asking you "Oh, do you think that girl is cute?" "Oh what about her? She's very pretty" Just to tick you off and get you blushing, it always works.

Shinobu likes to have you help with her experiments and medicine, seeing how it peaks your interest to find the solutions to unfinished medical equations, and sitting in silence having all of your focus on whatever project you're working on.

Whenever she has free time, Shinobu loves to relax with you. Whether it be telling stories, cooking, or simply taking a nap whilst cuddling, she enjoys it all.

It really doesnt bother Kocho that you like to have a lot of alone time. It fits well with the fact that she's a Hashira and is busy a lot of the time. She also enjoys your sarcastic side. Shooting indirect insults and jokes at each other makes her smile, genuinely. She doesn't mind that you change the subject really quickly either. As long as it isn't something serious, she's more than happy to act as though the new subject was what you both started with in the first place. She can hear you really well too, so having a quiet voice is no problem.

Shinobu always brings you new books from missions, and has you go to Tengen to learn "proper" art. She cracks up at the sight of a paint covered exhausted s/o, but of course she helps you wash up and get comfy.

Tengen once again creates music with you, but I wouldn't say it's the greatest. He thinks it's flamboyant sooo

Shinobu has this way of getting you to finish eveything you start, whether its bribery, blackmail, indirectly, or straight to your face. She loves you and all but will NOT let you be unproductive.

Since butterfly girl hides her emotions a lot, she understands where you're coming from of the fact that not knowing what emotion to feel. Kanao is the same way, and sometimes Shinobu will have you two talk and share your experiences. (If you two are comfortable doing so).

Shinobu helps you through a lot of things and you help her as well. I can't promise she isn't going to tease you to the ends of the earth though.

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

I realised that I haven't done a snippet collection in a while - and noticed that I actually didn't accumulate a lot of new ones since the last time... And for many, it's long overdue that I type them out as I wrote them by hand. Well.

Under the cut if someone's interested :)

#311

Across the hall and over dozens of heads away. And only she knew that this smile was for her.

#312

#313

Cloudia had never been very good at sorting, categorising people - at looking at someone and knowing them as well as if you had them all your life. She was doing her best to change this through training with Cecelia ad Oscar, and while she was still struggling, she had become better over the years.

When I wake up, I wish to be somewhere else. I wish for nothing else in these few seconds between waking and opening my eyes. But when I open them, I only see the same ceiling as always. The same four walls. The same windows and pieces of furniture.

#314

"And now I am standing in his stead because things did not go as anticipated."

#315

"Hey, Oscar," called Barrington, charging into the room. "Have you..."

Oscar glared at him with an intensity Cedric had not seen before - and he had been on the other side of various of Oscar's death glares before. Barrington stopped talking immediately.

"Weaselton, I believed that you would have at least the decency to lower your voice when someone is asleep," Oscar said in a lowered voice, but he could have just as well been yelling. "I suppose I have been too lenient with you."

"Oh, you are..." Barrington began just as loud as before. Oscar glared at him, and he continued quieter, "... not someone who should lecture others on decency, Yard Ripper."

"Despite all I did, I am still more knowledgeable about common etiquette than you, so I am indeed qualified to lecture you," Oscar replied. "And now please say what you wanted to say when you entered this room thoughtlessly."

#316

"It is my fault he died," it now echoed in Cloudia's head.

#317

"He's dead?"

"No, but he wished he was."

#318

Something seemed to have broken in him, and now all the nervous energy that had filled his bones, that had made him fidget and be alert at all times flowed freely out of him like water through a damaged dam.

Dozens of dissections were covering the floor and desks, some finished, others in the process to be. Milton had emptied a package onto a table and was now looking through it for the right piece - no. He had emptied multiple boxes and was now tiptoeing from one unfinished dissection to the next all while muttering something to himself Cedric could not make out.

#319

But she had to. With every passing day, she grew more annoyed and frustrated with herself.

#320

Milton closed the door behind him before turning to her. He took a deep breath. "That was very bold and brave."

Cloudia smiled at his words. "I did not anticipate to be caught immediately. For a moment, I feared that I would be sent to Scotland Yard."

#321

Maybe he was starting to forget - maybe it were the chartreuse eyes that gleamed in his face. It was hard to picture himself without them.

#322

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Have this one instead because it seems to fit with all the death-talk (didn't realise that until compiling this).

#264

On the day of [...]'s funeral, there was nothing to bury. Only a tombstone was placed and a small ceremony held beneath a clear, but grey sky.

#323

“It is still only a hope, and this is enough for me now, and I believe it was enough for him then too.”

#324

"Now, taking this into account, I have thought of some ways to effectively kill me."

#325

Cedric shook Milton. “Milton,” he shouted against the storm. “Milton, wake up.”

Fearing the worst, Cedric was just about to check Milton’s pulse when he groaned and rolled on his back.

[appleciders]

N P or U For the meme thingy?

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

mmm yeah!! i would love for somebody else to finish all of my unfinished works on ao3 for sure. in terms of ds9 stuff (bc i know that’s where we overlap lmao), i would love to read a well-written niche kira-centric fic that delves into like bajoran culture and language on a really detailed level? like, it’s a whole planet!!! that’s SO much space for exploring linguistic and cultural diversity and history! i would love an exploration of bajoran languages and how they were impacted by cardassian languages (bc there’s diversity there too?) and just like ethnic differences and variation in religious practices and how the occupation conflicted with all of that and like revitalization efforts? and just like. kira’s positionality in all of it. i want to see her, after a lifetime of being forced to see her planet and her people only in the abstract, only from the vantage point of refugee camps and the dakhur hills, get to travel and discover and connect with bajor!! like idk maybe jadzia (bc she’s absolutely alive shut up) is like will you take me to bajor? and kira’s like. i can show u dakhur province? and dax is like of course i want to see that but i also want to see everything let’s take an around-the-world TRIP. so kira takes her down and they just engage with all of this together and are in love and it’s moving and hard and warm and lighthearted and deep and wow. like i said this is very niche and nerdy but dude i want it

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an "architect" or a "gardener"? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

oh, total gardener! the things i plan in detail are generally the things i never finish lol just because it starts feeling like a task and then my contrary brain goes whoopsies ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i don’t like doing what i’m told even when i’m the one who tells me to lmao

fanfic ask meme

[howrry]

swing for the fences

a/n: “i’m writing a 5/1 story!” five seconds later: here’s a piece that has nothing to do with that!! not even sorry, one direction never kept their promises so why should i ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ besides i like this work way more than the 5/1 tbh, so here’s a fwb piece i’ve had unfinished for weeks now, pls enjoy

w/c: 3.0k

warnings: smutsmutsmut bitch

***

Harry figured out he really liked Y/N while standing in line at a sandwich shop.

It was sudden and unceremonial, compared to the cute stories that go like "oh I fell in love with my husband when we stared deeply into each other's eyes" or "I realized I loved her when she helped me in my time of need" that you can find on Reddit. No, Harry had to have his epiphany while staring at sliced banana peppers.

While the young boy behind the counter was loading his sandwich into the toaster, Harry peered over the glass and thought about what veggies he wanted. Spinach and tomatoes, of course, maybe some jalapeños, and so on. He remembered that he'd be seeing his friend Y/N later that day and knew that if she saw his food, she'd want a bite. While he was an avid hater of the aforementioned banana peppers, they were Y/N's favorite, and he pondered over getting some so that she'd enjoy her bite out of his sandwich more.

You like her. The thought hit him like a train. Normally he wouldn't let anybody else so much as breathe towards his food, yet he was considering ruining his entire sandwich just so that Y/N could enjoy a single bite out of it. Because he liked her.

The realization knocked the wind out of him. When the employee asked what he wanted on his sub, he stumbled over his words and by the time he paid and left the store, he doesn't even remember if he got the damn peppers or not.

This was a problem. See, Harry and Y/N had a great thing going on—what one would call friends with benefits. They hung out together, saw movies, ate breakfast and other friendly activities by day, and by night he was guaranteed to be burying himself in her. No romance, no attachments, nothing. Perfect!

Except, well, not anymore. What was he going to do? The two of them had always prided themselves on being able to separate feelings from sex; sometimes you just needed to get your rocks off, and having that option always at arm's length was incredibly convenient. Now that he'd discovered he might have more feelings than he thought he did, there was no foreseeable way for this to be resolved without at least one of them getting hurt.

So he tried to ignore it.

***

Y/N knocked on his door later that day, despite having a key to his house and using it to let herself in. “Haz!” she called, and he emerged from the kitchen, wiping the avocado ranch from the corner of his mouth. He stiffened a bit when she gave him a chaste hug, but she didn’t seem to notice.

They went to the kitchen together, where she noted the remains of the sandwich on his table. “Thanks for getting me something, cuck,” she whined, gesturing towards his leftovers.

“You can have the rest, yeh big baby!” he said as if he hadn’t intended to give it to her the whole time.

She squealed in delight, taking a massive bite and then talking without swallowing first. “Hey, I love banana peppers! Thanks!”

“Don’t talk with your food in your mouth,” he chastised, ignoring her comment.

The remainder of the evening went like it normally would. They chatted about their days (Harry leaving out his big discovery, of course), started their journey catching up on Stranger Things, and ended up necking on his couch. When she ghosted her lips across his skin to go for a real kiss, though, he dove to avoid it and bit at her earlobe instead. He whispered that the two of them should go to his room and, as far as he knew, she didn’t even notice he’d avoided one of the simplest parts of sex.

When they didend up sleeping together, he tried to make it as distant and impersonal as possible. He didn’t attach his mouth to hers even once and skipped out on foreplay once he’d undressed her, merely checking if she was wet enough with his fingers (she was, always so damn pliant) before stuffing his cock into her from behind. He ended up having a below-average orgasm way too quickly and even felt guilty enough to work backwards and get her off with his hands.

Once they were done, she made a lighthearted joke about him being in a rush judging by the mediocre sex. Harry didn’t really react to this, and she was so uncomfortable she let herself out. She normally spent the night.

So there Harry was, lying in his cold bed by himself, arms tucked behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He felt awful. His new tactic clearly didn’t work and it’d unsettled the one girl he liked.

Time to switch game plans, he guessed.

***

That morning, the first thing he did was shoot Y/N an apologetic text saying he’d felt tired and wasn’t able to give a grade-A performance (even though, uh, hello, he was the one who initiated sex, but whatever). She forgave him instantly, which made his stomach knot. Why did she have to be so compassionate and forgiving? Why was she such a great person?

Throughout the next few weeks, he decided to change up his attitude in the bedroom. Being her friend wouldn’t change regardless of how he felt about her, so he acted the complete same from day to day, but things were different at night.

It was a complete 180 from what he'd tried before. He originally attempted to dodge kissing, now he pressed his lips to hers with a fervor that he hadn't felt in years. He used to like taking her from behind and pushing her head down into the pillows, now he was fucking her missionary, snaking an arm around the small of her back so that as much of her skin was against his as possible. Now he was letting her sit in his lap, his cock nestled in her and nails dragging down the soft skin of her back. Now he was going down on her for hours, licking and eating like she was an oasis in a desert. He used to pull out before he came and paint either her ass or her face, now he chose to finish inside of her, marking her as his from the inside. He fucked her, well, like he loved her.

Y/N didn't seem to catch onto this rollercoaster of changes that Harry was putting her through, or if she did, she didn't mention it. She was always good at matching his energy in the bedroom, no matter how rough or how tender (which didn’t bode well for his soft heart). It’d be one thing if she questioned this new behavior, but everything he gave her, she gave right back. Every burning kiss, every hair pull, every bite and thrust and moan was reciprocated—if not topped in intensity. Again, not so good for his already-growing feelings.

After one particularly long and hot-blooded round, Harry decided to ask how she really felt. He lay in bed, panting from his orgasm just moments before, when Y/N returned from a quick bathroom break. Now or never, he thought.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, voice cracking at the dehydration. He sat up in bed, sheets bunching up around his lap.

She waved a hand at him, picking up her pants and forcing her legs into them. "I know, I know, I'm leaving. I don't wanna run into your round two on my way out," she winked, continuing to pull her jeans up her thighs.

"No!" he blurted. Round two? What the hell was she talking about? Did she really think that he had someone elsecoming over after that mind-blowing, passionate sex? "What? No. I just—"

"I'm kidding, Harry," she deadpanned, stopping him. "But seriously, I do have to go. I'll catch you tomorrow?" The tail end of her sentence kicked up, even though both of them knew she'd be back. "Text you when I get home!" She slammed the door behind her, and Harry sat with his jaw in his lap.

He didn't even get a text.

***

Harry hated bars.

He didn’t even know why he went. Well, that was a lie. Any chance to spend time with Y/N he jumped on, even if it was with their mutual friends at a dingy club.

At this point in the evening, he was pretty sauced. He’d long since lost track of the whole friend group, and chose to relax at the bar where even the bartender lost track of how many pints he’d had in the evening.

He spotted her on the other side of the U-shaped bar, chatting up a strikingly attractive fella with loose blonde hair and beaming white teeth. You know, nothing like Harry.

He felt sick. There was no stated monogamy between them and she owed him no loyalty, but for the past few months they’d damn near spent every waking moment together. There wasn’t even any time for her to be with someone else. But now, everything was fair game and she was clearly taking the chance presented to her.

Fuck it. He downed what was left in his glass, threw enough money on the bar to cover his drinks and a tip, and marched over to the duo.

“Oh hi!” Y/N gushed when she made eye contact. “Caleb, this is my friend Harry. Harry, this is Caleb.”

So. His name was Caleb. Up close, he was even more immaculate. His skin was as clear as the sky, he had the bone structure of a sculpture, and despite his blonde hair, his eyelashes were thick and dark. His manners were clearly up to par as well, since he politely extended a hand and flashed a smile at Harry. When he merely stared down at his hand, Caleb awkwardly pulled back.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. Y/N was just telling me about her recent trip to the Grand Canyon. I can’t imagine hiking in that weather, you’re quite brave.” That last part was more directed at her, and the attention made her giggle.

“Actually, I went with her on that trip,” Harry noted, both of their gazes snapping to him. “The weather was quite pleasant given the time of year. We didn’t even mind the heat when we fucked in the tent two nights in.”

“What the fuck?” Y/N blurted. Her face turned bright red, showing through even under her makeup, and his comment even got the attention of nearby patrons. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered to a shocked Caleb before grabbing Harry’s hand and yanking him to the back hallway of the bar.

Once out of the range of the booming music, she stopped and attempted to push him against the brick wall behind him, failing due to his size. “Harry, you need tostop,” she reprimanded.

“Stop wha’?” he slurred, genuinely curious about what she meant. Stop drinking, stop feeling so sorry for himself, stop loving her?

“Stop making a scene. What’s the matterwith you?” Her arms folded over her chest, enhancing her rack in her dress but Harry was too far gone to appreciate it.

“I don’ like him,” he huffed.

“That’s ridiculous,” her eyes cut into slits. “You met him 45 seconds ago, and I don’t get uppity about your bitches!”

“Haven’t slept with someone else since you,” he confessed. “Haven’ even looked at anyone else the same since I first touched you,” he purred, taking a step towards her.

She stepped back, hitting the wall behind her. “What?”

Fuck it, he was drunk. He wouldn’t even remember this in the morning. “The second I put my hands on your body, and tasted you, and saw what you look like when I make you cum on my cock, I saw the whole world differently. Reckon I love yeh,” he finished his dirty secret with a nervous laugh, somewhat cutting the meaning of his words.

For a few moments of heavy silence, he thought she was going to reciprocate his admission. There was a tiny glint in her eyes that made him think she felt the same and he opened his mouth to dig himself deeper into his hole but she stopped him.

Something washed over her face and she suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Y/N pursed her lips and brought a hand up to awkwardly scratch at her elbow. “I shouldn’t have let you have that last beer.” It was a joke, obviously, since she hadn’t been around him since his first drink of the night, but he didn’t laugh. “Let’s get you a water and take you home so you can get some sleep.” Harry couldn’t even protest before she grabbed his arm and tugged him back through the bustling dance floor and out the front door. He never even got his water.

To say that Harry was devastated was the understatement of the millennia. He’d just poured his heart out to the girl who had occupied his every thought for the past few weeks and she breezed over it like it was nothing. He didn’t speak another word to her for the rest of the night, barring a dazed “thank you” when she helped him up the stairs in his home and got him into bed. Once he was relatively comfortable, she let herself out without saying anything.

Well, that was it. He shot his shot, swung for the fences, and missed. If a truth bomb like that wasn’t enough for Y/N, nothing would be. As he laid in bed, head swimming and the stationary fan seemingly spinning above him, he knew his relationship with her was over.

He had to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom to throw up, and he knew full heartedly that it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

***

Harry had never been a “show up at a girl’s door” kind of guy, especially if he was about to break up with her. Or, whatever he was about to do. Can you break up with someone you never dated?

However, he knew this was something that had to be done in person. His stomach was in a painful knot from the moment he woke up and didn’t subside during the drive to her apartment nor while walking up to her door or rapping it with his knuckles. It especially didn’t get any better when she swung the door open and was clearly happy to see him, smiling bigger than the sun. Clearly, she was ready to forget about last night and move the fuck on.

She let him in and briefly apologized for still being in pajamas, blaming it on laundry day. “When I have a coherent outfit that’s clean, wanna go see the new Spider-man movie?” she asked, leading him to her living room.

Her question was so innocuous, his stomach got even worse. “Actually, there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

This made her stop in her tracks, her bubbly persona fading away. He knew damn well she hated those kind of ominous sentences, that they gave her anxiety. “Is everything okay, H?”

He inhaled through his nose sharply, blinking to make sure he wasn't tearing up. "I think we need t'stop seeing each other. Like, even as friends." It came out in one breath, like if he didn't, he knows he would've stumbled over it.

To his shock, Y/N's face paled. "W-what? H... why?" she was starting to even tremble.

"I'm gettin' too fuckin' attached, okay?" he blurted. No going back now, he guessed. "Whatever's going on between us clearly means nothing to you and I can't keep pretending like I'm fine with it. I can’t keep acting like everything is okay when it’s not.

His explanation made her jaw pop open. "Wait, you were serious? When you confessed your feelings?"

Harry's head reared back. "What? Of course I was serious! Why wouldn't I have been?"

She shrugged, choosing to stare at the floor rather than make eye contact. "I don’t know. You were drunk, I-I thought it was some kind of ploy. You've been acting kind of weird lately and I didn't know what you were planning. I got scared so I tried to be more chill about... us."

He blinked. “Well, now yeh know. It wasn’t a ploy, or a drunken mistake. I’m serious when I say that I love yeh, and if yeh don’t feel the same way, tell me now so I can walk the fuck out.” His head dropped down to his folded hands, staring down at the cross tattoo.

Her face turned pink at his profanity. He very rarely swore around her except in the bedroom, so the severity of the situation weighed on her. “Of course I love you,” she admitted, just barely over a whisper.

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Harry, you’re one of the best guys I’ve ever met. You treat me so well, I don’t even understand it myself. I mean, you hatebanana peppers, for God’s sake!” She laughed, and Harry’s stomach unknotted for the first time in 48 hours.

“What?” he repeated, her confession not quite sinking in.

“Are you a broken record? I said I love you! Is that not what you want?”

“I—no, it is! I’m just in shock! I’ve been through a lot since last night, okay?”

She dropped down on the couch next to him and threw her arms around him, and he instinctively wrapped his hands around her biceps. “So, what now?” she asked, pulling away and looking at him with doe eyes.

“Well, you’re m’girlfriend now, I reckon,” he smirked. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yes! Of course, you dummy.” The seemingly unwaivering smile on her face was replaced with a mischievous look. “Now that we’re dating, you have to help me with stuff that you didn’t before.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do y’mean?”

She stood up from the couch and grabbed his arm, dragging him down the hallway. “I have laundry to fold, and the faster it’s done, the sooner we can see Jake Gyllenhaal kicking Spider-man’s ass!”

And to be honest? He couldn’t complain, not one bit.

[specsnsarcasm]

My Review of... the Sanditon finale

(Warning: SPOILERS!)

With much left unresolved, the series finale of Sanditon left me wanting. It’s certainly the bleakest of the Austen stories (though I suspect this would not have been the case, had Austen completed it herself). I don’t expect every character or story to have a happy ending. I can get behind a good tragedy *if* it’s done correctly, but I don’t think Sanditon managed this.

The series started off with lots of potential. It was grand, beautiful and ambitious, with a lot of themes to tackle -- some complex (e.g. class warfare, social transformation, regency-era racism, and even female sexuality), and some simple, like misunderstandings, romantic rivalries, and love. But with much to deliver, it buckles under the weight of its own promise.

Structure:

It looks like a quintessential Austen story, but it doesn’t feel like one. Even though it's unfinished, we know how it should go: after some troubles, good things happen to good people, bad people get their comeuppance, and at the end of the day there's hope for a better life. It’s what we know and love about Austen. I was disappointed by this ending because after setting us up for a good outcome, a lot of the characters end up exactly where they started (or worse!), without any lesson or point. Not sure what hope I can take from that.   

Characters & Their fates:

From the beginning, I didn’t feel a connection btw Sidney and Charlotte. I thought their age difference was too great, the chemistry wasn’t there, and Sidney is too prickly, so despite their obvious collision course, I never warmed to him. Charlotte should have ended up with Young Stringer. I’m beyond tired of the narrative that the ‘best’ man is the most difficult. Anyway, it makes no difference because a ridiculous thing happens and she ends up with precisely NO ONE! Which- sure. Whatever. Thanks for wasting my time?¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Speaking of which... I’m disappointed by how they wasted the Miss Lambe character. As a black girl who LOVES period dramas, I rarely get to see myself in them, let alone in a main role, so I was excited to see what they would do with her. The fact that the character was actually written by Jane Austen was very progressive for the time, so no doubt she had high hopes for her as well. Instead, the show turns Miss Lambe into a miserable, mopey, petulant brat, who exhibits no growth. She might as well have been any generic heiress. They do away with the feisty, defiant woman we saw during the pineapple reception, and they abandon her friendship with Charlotte too, so after her ‘Mr. Molyneux’ arc, she’s relegated to the background. We don't even know what will become of her, and the show simply does not care. They toy with a relationship btw her and Arthur Parker, but the ramshackle pairing falls apart anyway when they allude to Arthur being gay/ace. (I'm not sure if it's in the book or just the show).

If done differently though, I could also see Miss Lambe marrying Arthur. He’s defended her from the beginning, finds her initial outspokenness refreshing and doesn't seem too concerned about what people think. He laughs at the ridiculous pineapple incident, springs her from her house confinement, and attempts to cheer her up. He’s the light, carefree counterpart to Sidney’s dark, oppressive guardianship. Plus, he's wealthy in his own right, so we know he’s not after her money. Also, if she married Arthur and Charlotte married Sidney, the two would have been sisters-in-law, which is the kind of tidy symmetry that Austen would have loved. 

The real MVP is Lord Babington. He’s patient, noble, and a gentleman. He's persistent, but not creepy or pushy. His story with Esther is actually the most romantic and well-formed of the lot. I hated the way that Edward charges into the ball, drunk, professing his love for her. I found it unnecessary and redundant. We already had closure with his character in the previous episode when Lady Denham disinherits him, Esther finally frees herself from his hold, and Babington comes to learn the true nature of their relationship. Him coming back adds nothing to the story. 

After a huge row, Young Stringer’s poor, overworked, recently-injured father dies of a heart attack(!) and is burned in a fire(!!). AND THEN, with nothing keeping him in Sanditon (except for guilt and honour), Stringer gives up on the dream he’s been talking about for the entire series, he DOESN'T get the girl, will likely remain in his station forever, live with regret, and become his father anyway!?!?!?! Ducking bleak! Not sure what the take-home from this should be. Don't try? Lol.

And after everything, Tom doesn’t have insurance??!?!?!!!!?! Oh, f^ck this guy! His family and everybody are constantly bailing him out, sacrificing their money and happiness to do so, and he still doesn’t learn! Ugh.

To sum up their fates: 

Charlotte - unrequited <3, wasted summer, a little worldlier, unhappy.

Sidney Parker - married to s/o he doesn’t love, deadbeat bro, unhappy. 

Young Stringer - unmet potential, grieving, guilt, alone, broke, unhappy. 

Old Stringer - DEAD. 

Tom Parker - SO ducking broke, a wanker, lucky, unhappy.

Mary Parker - married to a f^ckwad, lawfully-wedded broke, unhappy.

Miss Lambe - far from home, friendless, unrequited <3, racism, unhappy.

Mr.  Molyneux - alone, ashamed, racism, unhappy. 

Sir Edward Denham - broke, alone, banished, disgraced, unhappy. 

Miss Brereton - disgraced, broke, unhappy (*but will land on her feet).

Arthur Parker - regency-era queer = alone, but good-natured. Happyish?

Diana Parker - hypochondriac. unhappy. 

Mrs. Campion (soon to be Mrs. S. Parker) - A bitch. Got the ring. happy.

Lady Denham - lateral move, maybe unhappy? (no more companion).

Lord & Lady Babington (Esther) - happily ever after. <3

[Note: As always, these are just my opinions, you don’t have to agree. I just like watching stuff and writing stuff about it!]

[retvenkos]

“you’re the best thing about this place, y’know that?”

requested

DATING JACK KELLY IN A MODERN! HIGH SCHOOL! AU WOULD OBVIOUSLY JUST HAVE TO INCLUDE...

this boy is an artist™ which 10/10 means that his hands are always dirty from paint/charcoal/ink/literally any kind of substance

and it doesn’t help that he’s left handed

this means only one thing - he loves to cup your face when y’all kiss

and you roll your eyes because he leaves behind marks of charcoal and paint on your cheeks

but it makes him so happy to see you with it on

oh, also,,, he’s big on hand holding

he will always try to lace his fingers with yours

and if you ever want to leave a situation, all you have to do is tug on his hand slightly and he will get you right on out of there

which reminds me...

protective jack kelly

he can always tell when someone is bothering you and he will not hesitate to try and fight them - with words rather than fists

he is vvv salty

he will also let you rant about anyone and everyone while you guys do homework together

“do you want me to annoy them?”

“last time they didn’t talk to me for like, three months.”

“that’s the goal, isn’t it?”

but schoolwork with jack??? he does not do it

you will have to drag him to his math class and poke him in the back when he falls asleep in english

and when y’all are studying?? it’s a struggle

you’ve realized bribery works really well and will sneak food into the library to get him to finish his assignments and go over history flashcards with you

but jack loves you a heckin’ lot

like, his name for you in his phone has 17 heart emoji’s next to it

which reminds me... jack uses snapchat,,,, chronically

you guys have the longest streak ever and 90% of it is a picture of his forehead with an incoherent key smash that you somehow are able to answer back to with surprising accuracy

another thing

jack kelly lives for the memes

before you were together and he had a massive crush on you, he would rick roll you. every. D A Y .

he will unironically use the work ‘yeet’ in everyday conversations

he will send you random videos with the word ‘yeehaw’ as the caption

he can make every vine reference in existence

he blames it on race but we all know jack was the one who was hooked first

and omg, jack’s locker is a mess

he has pictures of you two on the inside, but at least 2 fall down every time he opens it because he doesn’t have enough magnets to hold them up

the top of his locker has a lot of unfinished drawings just stacked on top of each other

the bottom has his textbooks??? no one is really sure because you can’t see the spine of them

this means that at the end of the year you help him clean it out and it involves a lot of, “i remember this picture!” and, “i thought i told you to throw this demon sketch in the garbage,” “it’s dada art, (y/n)! it’s supposed to look like that!”

also, jack gets really flustered when you kiss him in front of his friends so it’s sort of become a habit of yours�� ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but you are always there to support him at any kind of art show he’s in

and he always tells you that you’re one of his biggest inspirations

and while you definitely steal his food during lunch, jack kelly is the biggest sweetheart that has fallen head over heels for you

which we all know means albert and specs tell stories about his pining days

and race makes suggestive comments that make you both blush like mad

and davey will shake his head in disbelief but will never fail to tell you that you and jack are perfect for each other

AND FLUFF ENSUES.