#why did I save this as a draft instead of posting immediately it's been months

[ayrsontenna]

Senna series birthday gift for meeeeeee

[hiiraya]

loml

pairing: natasha romanoff  x reader 

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst, happy ending (?), literally just self-indulgent writing, messy writing, listen to loml by taylor swift to get in the sad mood

a/n: merry christmas everyone! the last thing I posted was january of 2022 and it's literally about to be 2025 - I've been in a reminiscing mood lately and this was something I've had in the drafts for months, I figured I should just release it to get it out of my system. your girl has been missing someone bad bro and the urge to tag them in this is insane ♡ anyways, hope they see this lmao

“Have a safe flight and text me when you land, yeah?”

“I will, I will. Get home safe and update me as well, okay?”

You release your cousin from your hold, giving their shoulder a quick squeeze as they pull away. You do a last minute check with them to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything important - something you were always prone to do when travelling by yourself. The memory of you almost missing your international flight because you had rushed home and back to the airport within record speed, all because you had forgotten your passport of all things. 

“I’ll fly out to see you next time, so you can show me around.” You smile.

“Are you guys serious? I told you to leave early so that this exact thing wouldn’t happen!”

Your eyebrows immediately furrow at the familiar voice, catching one last glance of your cousin as they enter the security screening area, waving to them while you mouth one last ‘text me when you land!’ as they leave your sight, before turning around to find the source of the voice.

No way it’s her, you thought. What’s she doing here?

As you get closer to the arrivals board, your questions are answered. Standing there in all her glory, is the one woman you never thought you’d lay your eyes on again.

“Natasha?”

You see the puzzled look on her face as she registers your voice before she even lays her eyes on you. Watching as the confusion turns to irritation - whether it was towards you or whoever was on the other side of the phone, you couldn’t tell (most likely both) - you watch as a deep sigh she releases as she glances at the board in front of her once again.

“-that’s another 10 hours before you guys even land.” She sighs, exasperation lacing her voice.

“Hey, listen if you need help-”

She holds a finger up to silence you, eyes meeting yours in a piercing glance. “I don’t need help, and especially not from you Y/N L/N.”

At her words, you look down, the sight of your shoes a welcome one as you take a second to recover. Honestly, you thought to yourself, I deserved that. 

“Yes, it’s Y/N- no I did not! I swear I didn’t know that they were here.” You hear her mutter from beside you. Deciding to save the both of you from further embarrassment, you turn your attention elsewhere, wondering what your cousin would say once you eventually tell them about who you ran into immediately after they left.

You lift your head back up when you hear Natasha mumble "you guys pick the day before Christmas of all days to be late for your flight” followed by a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone, watching her scope the airport for her next step. 

You could just leave and pretend this ever happened.

“Come on, Nat, I promise I just want to help.” You find yourself saying instead. “I can take you to your hotel when they get here.”

Well, there's no going back from that now.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

You really needed to stop opening your mouth.

“Okay, you know what, I deserve that.” You pause. “Listen, I’m not going to force you to come with me, but the offer is still there if you want it. You’ll get a free ride, plus you can use my apartment to rest and freshen up while you wait.”

 -x-

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

You spare a glance to Natasha, who was currently sitting in your passenger seat.

"You're the one that followed me to the car?"

She rolls her eyes at your confused tone, choosing to ignore what you said and instead checking her phone - most likely waiting for an update from whoever she was speaking to on the phone before. "I can't believe they missed their flight."

"Who's they?"

"Yelena, Maria, Wanda," she answers. "Oh, and Yelena's friend Kate too. I don't think you've met her."

You bit the inside of your cheek, because you already know that you didn't get to meet anyone named Kate while you were still together. You honestly didn't get to meet many of Natasha's friends whenever visited her - it was something you always fought over. It felt like she was ashamed of you, always wanting to keep you hidden, a secret she never planned on sharing with the world.

You refrain from asking any follow up questions - if Natasha wanted you to know more she would tell you.

Instead, you ask: "Did they manage to catch the next flight out?"

She nods. "I'm honestly surprised they did, considering how expensive it probably would've been. But knowing Maria, she probably would've pulled some strings to make it work."

Natasha finally looks up from her phone as you come to a stop, looking at the building you had just parked in front of.

"Where are we?"

"My apartment, I figured we could drop off your bags and you can freshen up before I show you around." You open the door for Natasha before moving to grab her bags from the trunk.

You lead her inside, setting her bags down in the living room before turning around to face Natasha - holding your arms out as you gesture to your living space. It's the first time she's ever stepped foot into this place, having only seen it through a phone screen since you were the one who would fly out to visit her when you were still together.

"I'll grab you some towels so you can freshen up, but make yourself at home." You say, gesturing for her to follow you down a hallway. "The bathroom is the first door to your left, there should be a spare toothbrush under the sink- wait did I give to my cousin? Well, we can grab you one while we're out but everything you need should be here."

You know you're rambling but you don't stop in fear of saying something stupid (which knowing you, is highly likely).

"If you want to take a nap, the guest room is just a little further down the hall on the right - I just changed the sheets so everything should be fresh."

It's not the way you wanted to be showing Natasha around your home for the first time, but you'll take what you can get. It'd be so easy to waltz back to the way things were, before everything fell apart but you didn't have the right to that anymore. You weren't a part of her life anymore.

You didn't know if she already had someone new in her life, maybe you were overstepping in so many ways and that it was best to just keep your distance. After all, you did promise that you just wanted to help. You were here to keep her company until the girls arrived and take her to the hotel when they finally did get here.

You know it's for the better to just move on, that after today she'll be gone and it'll be like she never made a reappearance in your life. But how could you when you know deep down that you still haven't fully moved on and that she'll always hold your heart in her hands?

Natasha's voice cuts off your reverie, bringing you back to the present as you hand her the towels.

"Give me an hour to shower and rest my feet for a bit, I wanna go out and explore while we wait."

 -x-

"Do you see that one over there? That's a hammerhead shark! They're one of the most powerful sharks in the ocean."

Natasha hears the little girl gasp, watching their eyes going wide with wonder. She can't help the small laugh that escapes when she sees the young girl lean closer towards the glass before loudly whispering, "is it going to eat us?"

You laugh softly, and Natasha can't help but think that she's missed hearing the sound of your laugh, something she thought she wouldn’t hear again. It comforts her slightly to know that it hasn't changed after all these years, and that  she can still easily recognise the sound as being yours only.

"It won't eat us! Sharks don't eat humans," she hears you explain. "They're more interested in fish and seals, than they are humans. But they are really strong swimmers, and they can smell things from miles away - even in water!"

She'd been watching you answer questions about sharks for the past 5 minutes, after a curious little girl ran up to while you were looking at the shark tank and asked if you knew what type of shark was swimming in front of the glass.

"Do sharks talk to each other?"

"They don't talk like we do, but they do communicate by using their bodies and how they move through the water. Some sharks even make sounds by rubbing their teeth together, kind of like a secret language that only they can hear."

It doesn't take long for the girl's mother to find the three of you, sighing in relief as she sees her daughter, looking up at you apologetically.

"Sorry, she's probably been asking you a million questions."

You give the woman a friendly smile and shake your head. "It was nothing, I loved answering all of her questions." You tell her. "It looks like you might have a future marine biologist on your hands."

"Let's leave the lovely ladies to enjoy the rest of their date, bubba."

"Oh- it's not-"

"We're not-"

The mother and daughter are already walking off before either of you could finish your sentences, leaving you and Natasha standing in front of the shark exhibit with red cheeks and thundering heartbeats. 

Natasha catches your eyes as you glance at her in a shy glance, and she knows it's too late. The warmth that passes through her as you smile, the same warm and knowing smile that you used to give her when everything was still okay was almost enough to bring her down to her knees.

You interrupt before her thoughts can spiral any further, clearing your throat before gesturing with your head the direction of the next exhibit.

"Shall we keep going?"

 -x-

Natasha sits across from you at a small café by the beach. You mention to her that it was your secret place, one that you go to when you wanted time to slow down and just have a moment to catch your breath. After the little incident at the aquarium, you guys decided it was best to just sit and people watch for the time being to avoid any more awkward interactions.

The warmth emanating from the cup of coffee did little to chase away the little chills that ran down her spine every time Natasha caught you gaze lingering on her for longer than you must've realised.

She told you about the plans that she and the girls had made for their vacation while you filled her in on your own life, telling her about your cousin that had just recently come to visit you just before Christmas.

"I'm glad you chose to come with me." You admit after a pause in conversation, voice soft. She turns to look at you, your eyes meeting hers with such an intensity it made her breath get caught in her throat. "I missed getting to talk to you like this."

She can tell that you spoke without thinking, the widening of your eyes giving you away. You look away, muttering a quiet "sorry" before lifting your drink to your lips in an attempt to hide the flush of your cheeks.

She was supposed to be over you. She'd told herself time and time again that she had moved on, but seeing you again, and being here with you, she couldn't deny that she was still in love with you. Having you so close yet so unreachable leaves an ache in her chest.

Throughout the time you two had been sat at the café, she watched you with fondness at the way your eyes lit up while you spoke with excitement in your voice about the things you and your cousin had gotten up to in the week they were with you; Natasha realises that she missed you too - and the comfort that you brought her just by simply being near.

"Nat? You okay?" The worry in your voice only deepens the ache in her heart.

"Yeah, no, sorry - I'm okay." She answers with a shaky nod, breathing deeply. She allows herself to feel her emotions, knowing that it would only do harm if she tried to deny herself this moment with you.

"I missed you too."

The sadness settles deep within her chest, the way you looked so shocked at her words - and she wonders if you were expecting her dismiss your words.

Her phone pings loudly from where it was placed on the table, the text tone sounding off four times in a row as her screen lights up between the two of you.

Natasha!! We've landed :D - Wanda

Sestra, we're on our way to the hotel now, tell lover girl to drop you off now - Yelena

Hi Nat, sorry again - we'll be there in 30 minutes! - Kate

I'll check us in if we make it to the hotel first, Nat, just let us know when you're there - Maria

You both watch as each text pops up on her phone, knowing that your time together was coming to an end.

Natasha watches as you ponder for a moment - wondering if you were going to add on to your words from before now that she's admitted that she missed you too. For a second it does seem like you're about to say something, but instead you just shake your head slightly to yourself, clearing your throat and as you look away, flagging down a waiter to pay for the meal you shared.

"We should probably get going if we want to get to the hotel at the same time as them."

She allows herself a moment to watch as you gather everything, absentmindedly listening to you talk about leaving now so we don't hit traffic - though I guess it's fair to make them wait, considering they made you wait like 10 hours, that's a practically a whole day wasted where you guys could've been sightseeing!

Natasha knows your putting on a brave front - she can see it in your eyes as you gather your wallet and keys, but she begrudgingly gets up after you pay for the bill, walking back with you to your car.

Already dreading the moment she has to say goodbye.

-x-

"Well, I guess this is where I leave you."

Pulling up at the front of the hotel, you catch a glance of Yelena, Kate and Wanda through the window. Even though you couldn't see her, you knew Maria wouldn't be too far away. Probably checking everyone in, you assumed as you parked your car near the entrance.

You do your best to avoid looking at Natasha, taking your time in getting out and grabbing her bags from the trunk, knowing this could very well be the last time you see her again. The thought alone breaks your heart all over again - you can recall all the times you've begged the universe to let your paths cross once more. Now that your wish has been granted and you're preparing to say goodbye to her once again, you deeply feel the loss of her from your life before it's even happened.

She's already watching you as you close the trunk. You hope that she can't see the tears that have been slowly building up since you started the drive to the hotel. You refuse to let yourself hope that the look in her eyes could mean anything order than gratitude.

"Thank you, Y/N, for today." She tells you softly.

"It's was nothing, Nat," you say with a smile, before softly adding, "you're welcome and I hope you guys have a Merry Christmas."

Getting lost in the silence that falls between you; you miss the way she's looking at you as you stare down at your shoes, waiting for her to grab her things and go so you can drive back to your apartment and sulk for the rest of the week. You wonder if she can see the way your hands are shaking as you wait for the inevitable goodbye.

"Y/N?"

You hum in response, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you decided to use actual words.

"I had a really good time today."

You tilt your head in curiosity. You've had a hard time all day trying to gauge if Natasha was having enjoying herself or not. There's no doubt in your mind that she would've said something if she wasn't.

"And it got me thinking," she continues. "I don't know- maybe I'm reading into everything wrong, and you can absolutely say no. You'll probably say no, because this is crazy, but I had to say something before I lose my mind-"

"Nat." You interrupt. As endearing as it was to hear her ramble on, to see her getting more and more flustered as she kept talking, you knew she'd work herself up before she every got to what she actually wanted to say.

"Breathe, love."

You nod encouragingly after she takes a deep breath, giving her time to gather her thoughts.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be so wrong, you know?" She starts. "To try again."

You try to hide the shock that you feel, but can't stop the way your eyes widen ever so slightly at her words. Never in a million years did you expect her to even say yes to spending the day with you, let alone suggest giving your relationship another go.

Does she mean just a friendship or an actual relationship?

Is she just saying that because of today?

What if she realises she doesn't actually mean that later on?

What if this was just a joke and she was just waiting for you to say yes so she can go "aha! I was just kidding as if I'd be serious."?

What if-

"We're different people now, don't you think?"

Confused but curious to know what else you had to say, she nods. "I'd say we are."

"We're older than we were before." You add. "We know a lot more about ourselves now, I'm not the scared kid I used to be."

You're scared of making the same mistakes you did all those years ago. But you also know that you're more than willing to learn from those mistakes; to stay and communicate to make things work instead of running away at the first sign of trouble. Because if there's anything you want more in the world, it's to make this work with her.

But just as much as you are scared, you can't help but be excited. Excited and honoured to learn more about this new Natasha, and fall in love with her all over again. You can't wait to find out what stayed the same, and what changed about her. Whatever she was willing to share with you, you'd gladly take.

"I could love you properly this time."

She gasps softly, and your heart pounds at the prospect of already scaring her away.

The thought of her friends seeing this happening through the window of the hotel briefly crosses your mind - you wonder if they'd approve of you making a return to Natasha's life or if they'll make you work for it after the way things ended between you two.

But she smiles, stepping into your personal space to wrap her arms around your neck and all thoughts leave your mind. The only thing you can focus on is Natasha pulling you closer so her words are only for your ears and your ears only to hear.

"I could love you properly this time too."

-----

@sadonism

[soulless-angel25]

Finally going ahead and posting this, it has sat in my drafts for several months so... warning: there is a lot of swearing. I remember that orginally I planned for this to cover all of season one but just episode one became very long so...

(sorry for the slight rant in advance)

I always get pissed off when people call Rose a crybaby or a whiner or say that she wasn't that good and X companion was better.

Like what do you expect???? She is 19. 19. Do you expect a fucking 19 year old human girl who works in a shop to be this amazing perfect can-do-no-wrong person????

When we're introduced to Rose she is a 19 year old shop girl who is stuck in this daily routine that she can't get out of. And then, suddenly the world is so much bigger then she ever thought it was before! She meets this amazing man who takes her hand and says 'run'. And when they're in the lift instead of crying or breaking down she tries her damn best to rationalize the situation. When the mannequins start moving her first thought is that it's a prank, because why wouldn't she? Why would she for any reason think that it's alien? And then she starts to panic a bit, yeah. Who wouldn't?

Do you think he could keep a mostly cool head whilst all of that shit was going on? Do you think you'd be able to not break down into a mess?

And then, when she's cornered. A man appears, takes her hand and saves her. But the moment they're in (relative) safety she is immediately asking questions, coming up with theories about what's happening. [ROSE] Very nice trick then, who're they? Students? Is this a student thing or what? [DOCTOR] Why would they be students? [ROSE] I don't know! [DOCTOR] Well, you said it. Why students? [ROSE] 'Cause... to get that many people dressed up and acting silly, they got to be students. She is trying to rationalize, she is coming up with ideas. Talking to the Doctor and he's like, 'Yes, but why do you think this?' And she answers! She just saw him rip and arm off when of those things, and after this interaction she's told her boss is dead.

Then they're outta the lift and she's interrogating him. Because now she has questions, and she wants answers. And the Doctor, is the person who has them. Then she's being told to get out and then her job is blown up!

I think, compared to anyone who could've been in that situation that she did a remarkable job! But, then her life just, dips into a light semblance of normal. Mickey's over, her mum's on the phone. And she has a cuppa and is staring off. And the next day comes 'round, her alarm goes off but her mum reminds her that she's got no job to go to so no reason to get up. The cat flaps rattling and so she goes to check it out and there's the Doctor. The person who has answers.

He comes in, she starts on tea, he nearly gets strangles by the plastic arm. He leaves and she goes after him, determined to get answers. And the two banter back and forth, 'Who are you? / Told you, the Doctor. / Yeah, but Doctor What? / Just the Doctor. / The Doctor?' But then he's explaining it to her, telling her roughly what's going on and she's trying to piece together the information that she's being given. The Doctor does his whole, turn-of-the-earth speech and tells her to forget him.

But that isn't where it stops, later on Rose is searching. Trying to gain more information on the Doctor, and she gets a lead. She goes to investigate it, despite the dangers it might pose. Sure, she decides the man is a nutter but that doesn't mean that his words still don't stay with her. No matter who small. And then the Doctor is back, he's crashing her date, taking her boyfriend's head off and she goes with him because the plastic replica of her boyfriend is trying to murder them. (tbf i'd go to) Then, she's in the TARDIS.

She plainly says that it's alien, the Doctor agrees. Then she says 'are you alien?' and the Doctor says, 'yes. is that all right?' and simply replies with 'yeah.' LIKE, she's so chill about it. This man that she's had maybe 3 interactions with is an alien and she's just kind of like 'ok.' But then Rose is crying and the Doctor thinks it's cause the TARDIS and him are alien but it's because she doesn't know if Mickey is safe.

Then they're out of the TARDIS and trying to find where the Consciousness is, and the Doctor's like 'well, it has to be somewhere big! A giant circular metal disk, must be completely hidden' and Rose is just looking behind him at the London Eye and it takes him a bit to realize and then he's grinning saying 'fantastic'. Before you know it the two of them are running, holding hands.

Then they've found the underground base and hey! Mickey's alive. Then the Doctor is trying to negotiate but then the mannequins find the anti-plastic and there goes Rose. With her bronze in gymnastics, with her no future, no life, no a-levels. But she's got her bronze is gymnastics and she saves the Doctor.

Next thing you know, the three of them are out, alive. Mickey exiting the TARDIS first, then Rose with the Doctor standing in the doorway. And he asks if she wants to come along.

You can see her consider it for a moment before she looks at Mickey, who's clinging to her legs like a child. And she says no. She says no and he looks disappointed but accepts it. He goes into the TARDIS and she vanishes. Rose clearly regrets her choice but she's already made it and is walking away but then the TARDIS is back, the Doctor is back and says 'did I mention it travels in time?' and she doesn't look back, she says thanks to Mickey who says 'for what?' and she says 'exactly' before running on.

That entire episode not once do you see Rose cry or break down except when she thinks Mickey is dead.

[casuallyodd]

Shapiro isn't bad, he's done some good things

But I'm glad he's wasn't chosen. I'll lay out why in a second but I'm curious about him being Jewish.

I didn't know he was Jewish when I first leaned about him. I never assume ancestry or group identity based on name or some specific body part alone (which seems the common way people say they "knew" a person was [HERITAGE]). So I want to ask:

Anyways, back to my "disappointment" in Shaprio. Again, he isn't bad overall. He wouldn't have prevented me from voting for Harris/against Trump.

But he's done several things I do really dislike.

Shapiro supported enforcing Pennsylvania's anti-boycott law against Ben & Jerry's after the ice cream maker announced that it would not renew its license in the Occupied Palestinian Territories. Shapiro called BDS a "stain" that Governor Wolf was right to prevent from taking hold in Pennsylvania and said it "is rooted in antisemitism."

...

Shapiro supports cutting Pennsylvania's nearly 10 percent corporate tax rate to 4 percent by 2025.

...

On efforts to mitigate COVID-19, Shapiro has broken with some in the Democratic Party and opposes mask and vaccine mandates

Then there's his private school support

Shapiro supports a Lifeline Scholarship bill, which creates education savings accounts for children in failing public schools that can be spent on approved expenses including tutoring, instructional materials and private school tuition.

That doesn't sound bad! It isn't except it analogous to the "kid pays off fellow student's lunch debt". The solution given is a band-aid. Fix the actual problem. Help the public school not fail by giving it more funding and support. It also allows rich people to escape the "failing" school while poor people are stuck there. (Do we need to spend time on the likely racial breakout here?)

During the drafting of Pennsylvania's state budget in mid-2023, Shapiro supported a Republican-led school choice proposal that would distribute $100 million to families for private school tuition instead of sending their children to public schools.

By the way that move above was done without talking to his Democratic caucus. They were totally caught off-guard and surprised. It's not that there won't be compromise with Republicans. But the way it was done was dumb.

And more importantly, he again is pushing to take money from public schools and give it to private schools.

Note, all of this came before October 7, 2023 and his subsequent remarks about college protests in December (I think some of his remarks are dumb and others are misrepresented - they also came after I had already been disappointed in him).

I guess I was just surprised in the number of think articles saying Shaprio wasn't chosen based on antisemitism. And I'm sure there are those that hate him for that reason alone. And they should fuck off. Dumb reason. I was just curious how people knew he was Jewish so they could hate that about him.

[anislandintime]

I received two texts from PMD at an ungodly hour two days ago.

"I'm sorry i havent been there for you in the past"

immediately followed by:

"I'm here now"

It was 3:39 in the morning when I saw the text, when my sleep was broken due to dehydration. The text, I saw, was sent at 1:15. I wondered what prompted the sudden texts. It woke me up completely. I couldn't square the circle.

Hours later when I woke up, I saw that screenshots of two posts from this blog, which I wanted to send to my therapist, were in my tipsy state of being, shared as whatsapp stories instead of being sent to the therapist!

I did not know what to respond. What could I even respond? Some days ago when I accidentally deleted some message which was relating to work, PMD took note of it and asked why I had deleted those texts. But before that I had actually deleted some personal messages after seeing an indifferent and cold response from her, she did not even bother to ask why I had deleted those texts. In those texts, I was requesting PMD to help me with my relation with AK. It was clear that PMD cared less for me as a friend and I probably am just an interesting contact. Else, repeatedly when I have knocked at her door, helplessly and also desperately, concerning the matter of AK, she has only displayed casual indifference and apathy; despite knowing how deeply the matter affected me and mattered to me. Even when I wrote a mail elaborating on how disturbing it was to find such an indifferent response, to which she responded after three months, all she said were things that concerned with how she comes across in the matter and nothing to do with my condition and me feeling let down when in need and pleading and seeking support. How am I supposed to understand such indifference, such apathy? This morning, I drafted the following text as a response. But did not send it to PMD, because she would only find it hurtful and like she had done earlier only complain about me and blame me, without caring to reflect on her (in)actions. But when I re-read the text, it cracked a part of my already broken heart. Is this how I have been made to feel? This is not how any human should be treated!!! But yeah, I have been treated like this!

"Bury me. Or if you don't have the 'bandwidth' for it, just place a flower on my coffin. If that isn't possible, again due to 'bandwidth' issues, recollect some verses from the Bible and pray for my soul to rest in peace.

Because there is nothing else to be done now. Had you come earlier maybe you could have done something life-affirmative. But you conveniently allowed me to die a lonely death. 

Nevermind. Life saving or not is never the point, right? Feeling good about oneself is more important.

So, do a good burial and tell yourself the story-- I was there to bury this man who died a lonely death. (And yes, never ask yourself or allow anyone to ask - why the man died a lonely death... because feeling good about oneself is the topmost priority.)"

[sourholland]

Ooooh angst “what about us?” “there is no us, there never was.” with tom plssss! Really love ur work 🌸

Last Kiss || Tom Holland

Summary → After a fling you and Tom had started while filming a movie together, he tells you that you two can’t be together anymore. Once you get home, Tom let’s you know that he made a mistake.

AN → This was supposed to come out yesterday, I just got lazy and waited to edit it. I can’t tell if I like how this came out or hate it, either way, I hope you guys like this. Also in honor of the Fearless re-record!!

Pairing(s) → Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language, Suggestive, Alcohol Use

Prompt(s) → 38

Word Count → 1.9k

The ringing of your phone sounded through your apartment loudly, the sound of the rain pattering loudly against the windows out-looking New York City. You set down the remote, feet padding against the cold hardwood while you looked for your buzzing cellphone.

You didn’t bother glancing at the caller ID, picking it up bringing it to your ear all in one quick motion.

“Hello?” You said, pulling a wine glass down from the cabinet.

“Y/N?” Tom’s voice came through the phone.

Your heart dropped, a breath catching in your throat while you stood in your kitchen. He was across the country, wanting nothing to do with you. He repeated your name through the phone, asking if you were there.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you answered, pouring more wine than you’d originally intended into the glass.

“Isn’t it like one in the morning in England?” You asked, listening to the muffles coming through the speaker.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s late here. I just couldn’t sleep, and I started to think of you. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have called.”

You sat at one of the barstools, swirling the red contents of the glass around. You wanted to yell at him, or maybe you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You sat silently for a few moments, bare legs cold from the draft.

“Tom,” you started. “I just don’t get why we have to rehash the past, you know? I came back to New York, just like you told me I should. You’re working on whatever new movie, I’m doing the same. I don’t know—I just think we should leave whatever happened between us alone. You made it very clear that it was me that you didn’t want,” you mumbled, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.

He audibly sighed, the ruffling of sheets coming through the phone. He was probably in bed, if he wasn’t so far away you’d have asked him if this was a sad attempt at getting you to sleep with him.

“I was fucking stupid, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve said that a million times,” his voice was hoarse and tired.

“I’ve already forgiven you, Tom. I just can’t keep doing this—this thing with you.”

You both went quiet for a minute, the only sound being the noise from outside in the bustling streets of the city and the rain. You knew you should hang up, block his number and forget about anything you two ever had. You’d tried a few times, unable to bring yourself to doing it.

“What about us?” He asked lowly, a twinge of hurt in his tired voice.

“There is no us, Tom,” you replied. “I’m not even sure there ever was.”

He didn’t say anything, you wanted to let out the repressed cry and tell him you didn’t mean it. That you were sorry and that you thought about him more than you’d like to admit. Something in you knew if you didn’t do your best to cut it off, you two would continue down the same everlasting cycle.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay.”

The line went silent for a moment, and then your home screen lit up. The call had been ended. You downed the remainder of your wine, ditching the cup and just going for the bottle. You thought about calling him back, about apologizing and booking a plane ticket like some lovesick teenager.

You opened Instagram and began scrolling through your feed of posts, liking and commenting occasionally. You weren’t anywhere near drunk, merely tipsy and heartbroken. Your finger lingered on the button to go live, wondering if you really wanted thousands of people to see you in this state.

You left the kitchen and instead propped your phone against the couch, taking a seat on the white rug of your living room. You wearily pressed the go live button, raising the bottle to your chapped lips once more. You are pathetic, you thought.

“Hey guys!” You smiled at the camera and outpouring of greetings in the comments. Within a few minutes you’d racked in a few thousand viewers. You grabbed the guitar sitting against your wall and strummed the cords lightly while it sat in your lap.

userone: you are so adorable

usertwo: can you please say hi?!!!??

userthree: it’s my birthday y/n!

“I’m sorry I haven’t been very active on social media, guys. It’s been super crazy traveling back and forth from London to New York and then having to leave again in a few weeks. And now I’m sitting on my living room floor with a bottle of wine,” you laughed. A few familiar people popped into the comments of the live, some you’ve worked with and some you’ve yet to meet in person.

florencepugh: y/n!!!

gracieabrams: might just bust out the wine just for u

“Florence, I can’t wait to see you soon!” You smiled, “Gracie, I swear it’s making everything like a hundred times better.”

userfour: i’m in love with her

userfive: y/n saving 2021???!!!

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be singing,” you flushed. You did sing, before getting into acting you’d post a lot on Instagram and TikTok. It’d always been more of a hobby, something you loved to do, but weren’t good enough to pursue.

“I’ve had a little too much to drink,” you added. “So don’t get upset if I’m a little pitchy, guys.”

usersix: if she’s pitchy i’m not sure what i am

userseven: sing taylor swift!!!

“Okay, okay!” You chuckled, scrolling through the hundreds of comments saying to play Taylor Swift. You’d only just been crying to like three of her albums a few hours before.

“How about the chorus—and maybe the bridge too, yeah, that’ll work,” you mumbled to yourself, fiddling with the strings. “Alright, guys, Last Kiss it is. I won’t bore you all with the whole thing, though. I could never do Taylor justice.”

“And I’ll go sit on the floor, wearing your clothes”

Getting involved with him was singlehandedly the most stupid decision you’ve ever made, you thought. Late nights in his flat after long nights on set, ordering in and just talking, you two would talk as if you’d known each other your whole lives. It was something about the way he’d let you wear his clothes, or the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear while you told him about whatever insignificant thing that had happened that day.

“All that I know,

I don’t know how to be something you miss”

The car ride to the airport was the worst, it was grey and cold outside. There was makeup running down your face, mascara covering your eyes generously. You’d wrapped filming a week earlier, unable to bring yourself to walk away from him.

You couldn’t tell the driver to turn you around, or could you? Tom had already made it clear that you were both in different places in your career. This wasn’t what he wanted. You weren’t what he wanted.

“I never thought we’d have our last kiss”

He had held you just a little tighter, you ran your fingers through his hair for just a second longer. The taste of each other lingering on the both of your lips. Like you knew it would be the last time he’d hold you without knowing.

His stupid smiled, the way he pulled away and ran his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. You were almost wrapped around his finger, absolutely sickened with desire and infatuation for him.

“I never imagined we’d end like this,

Your name, forever the name on my lips”

The day you’d left to come home to New York started with a huge argument between the two of you. He’d basically just told you that you’d both known from the beginning you wouldn’t last together. It wasn’t a matter of how much you cared for one another, but that it was impossible, as he put it.

His eyes glossed over and bloodshot, you a complete and utter mess. Slamming the door behind you as you left was one of the most painful things you’d ever endured. Even more painful, the fact that he never came after you.

“So I’ll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep”

“I can feel you staring at me, love,” he murmured against the pillow.

Your face heated, eyes averting to the stream of light through the sheerness of the curtains. He leaned into you a moment later, his lips soft on your own. He was warm, he was always so warm. You cupped the side of his face gently, pulling him in a bit harder.

“And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe”

You dropped your bags, stepping into your apartment after months of being away. It felt quieter than usual, desolate and empty from your being away. It was dark out, the illumination of the bright city lights from your windows.

You glanced down at your phone for a moment, not a missed call, not a text, not even a fucking notification. He’d simply told you to go home, nothing more nothing less.

“I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are,

Hope it’s nice where you are”

You’d texted Harrison a few times, regretting it almost immediately after. He was sweet, telling you that Tom would come around eventually and to just be patient. You’d relied on those kind words for some time, eventually deleting them all together.

After Tom’s first text, you’d realized he wasn’t coming around or regretting what he’d said to you. He was lonely, maybe even a bit desperate. For months you had been there to listen to him and hold him, and now you were gone.

You’d fed into it the first few times, sitting on the phone with him for hours at a time. Then you started to feel worse hearing his voice, silent sobs escaping as you’d listen to him ramble. Then your finger would linger over the decline button a little longer than usual when he’d call, until eventually you started to use it.

“And I hope the sun shines and it’s a beautiful day,

And something reminds you,

You wish you had stayed”

Once you started to go out with other guys, Tom’s ‘I miss you’ texts became more infrequent. Paparazzi would snap pictures, and the next morning they’d be plastered all over the internet.

There was no doubt he was seeing you going out with other people, watching article after article about who you were dating surface. Would he be jealous? No, you thought. Tom was probably doing the same thing as you. Hopeless hookups, meaningless blind dates.

“You can plan for a change in the weather and time”

One early morning, you found yourself in a sweatshirt you’d stolen from one of his drawers and forgotten to return. Listening to the morning rush of traffic and hugging yourself, noticing the lingering smell of his cologne.

You wondered if he knew you’d taken it, if he would think you were pathetic wearing it months after you two had broken things off. This only made you clutch yourself a little tighter, closing your eyes and trying to remember.

“But I never planned on you changing your mind”

[strayinvelvet]

[what a fool in love]

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks all pink because of your tiny crush on him

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, high school au, jisung is babo but cute

wc: 1.5k (this was supposed to be around 500 only but  got carried away)

warning: swear words, improper capitalization because i wrote this in tumblr drafts but just hit up my ask if this annoys you!

a/n: finally posting something after bouncing so many times! hopefully i can post consistently :(

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks flushed, especially when it’s because of him.

he has been observing you for months now and he notices. he notices how you would always stutter when you talk to him. you never do that when you talk to hyunjin or seungmin. he notices how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he calls you first. sometimes it would even reach your nose.

it’s not like he has been watching you. there was just this one time when he felt like eyes are on him. the bugging feeling was present for most of the day 'til he looked around and there you were, staring right at him. now jisung isn’t really one to boast, but he knows he’s one of the “handsome princes” of the school. he is not oblivious to the number of girls and boys that have a puppy to huge crush on him, thanks to the letters and free lunches he receives every once in a while. 

so from then on, he knows. you’ve been showing signs of your secret crush towards him and he finds it absolutely adorable. the silent yet friendly fella of the class who never finds a struggle in having a conversation with someone despite being a stranger to her, except with him. he wouldn’t say he doesn’t enjoy watching it. 

During lunch last time, when your friends abandoned you to go do their unfinished homework, you asked him, with the most shy and the most adorable look, if you can sit with him in his table. of course, the gentleman that he is, he let you sit. how could he let you possibly spend the whole lunch time looking for a seat? he swear he was only doing you a favor. well, he wouldn’t deny finding you stealing a few short glances at him amusing.

there was also this time when your biology teacher assigned the two of you to be “homework buddies.” it must have taken you a lot of courage to start the conversation. he would’ve pinched your cheeks that time if it weren’t for his self control: hey han jisung, she still hasn’t confessed to you. don’t make her uncomfortable. ah! and what was that you asked him? if he understand how the heart works? and then you went to full on nerd mode in explaining to him how it pumps blood and all the science-y stuff. how its beats depend on different factors, including external ones such as thoughts and feelings towards others. he’s pretty sure you were trying to convey something to him. dropping hints, i see. ahh, if only he could physically coo at you. 

now the reason why he enjoys your actions the most is your subtleness. he can tell that you have no plans to tell him how you feel, save for your natural reaction when you see him, unlike the others who basically throw themselves at him. he can see your efforts to not make the two of you uncomfortable. and all it told him was how considerate you are. you’ve probably noticed how the confessions annoy him sometimes, especially when it was given to him at a bad timing. like the person just wanted to let it out with no regards if he’s in the mood to hear it or not. but you, you have always checked on him silently before doing something. not until today.

your classmates have gone to their respective homes. he just finished practicing with the dance club and was just on his way to the school gates when you called his name hastily. you stopped speed-walking in front of him and took a deep breath as if you just ran out of air. you were holding a folded piece of paper in your hand- wait. piece of paper? is that a letter? a love letter?! oh no...

“hey jisung. i have something to say. actually it’s-”

“no! wait!” he hastily said to stop you.

 startled, you looked at him with a puzzled look, “hm..?”

no, you weren’t supposed to confess today. where did you get the sudden courage? is it from hyunjin? that man always encourage people to confess just to piss him off. tsk, that dick.

he looked at you with hesitation. are you nervous? he really didn’t want to leave you heart broken, tho.

he sighed, “how do i say this...” he gulped an imaginary lump in his throat before continuing, “ yn, you’re cute, i admit. but you see i’m not ready for a relationship yet. you’ve seen me turn down other confessions, i think, but i don’t want to do that to you because, well, you’re simply kind and... pure?” shit how do i really say this?

while he’s thinking of nice synonyms he can say instead as a replacement for what he’s about to say, you on the other hand, were left dumbfounded.

what is this guy on...?

when he finally seemed to quiet down, you didn’t even try to comprehend what he said (there’s no need to try honestly it’s impossible) before finally saying what you really needed to say. 

“jisung...” you paused for a while blinking at him, “i- i was gonna say ms. kim wants you in her office tomorrow during self-study hour. it’s about your biology grades,” you gave him the paper you were holding - his biology test marked with a big red, “you failed your preliminary quiz again and she’s afraid you’re going to fail the final quiz. she wanted me to say it because we’ve been partners for this subject.”

and then the most awkward silence ensued. not until he spoke with the most “huh?” tone.

“what?”

“Ms. Kim-”

“no wait i heard that. just... what?”

at this point you didn’t know what to say. your eyes travel from one point to another except to his eyes just because he’s clearly unfathomable right now.

“you weren’t-” he stopped to swallow the lump in his throat that now actually exists, “you weren’t going to confess?” he asked (with a bit of a hope that you actually were on the way to do so just to save him from humiliation).

however, he’s hopeless from his mess.

with a furrowed brows you finally answered, “no...? where’d you get that?”

well shit.

“i mean- don’t you like... have a crush on me?”

“where is this coming from?” you kind of dragged the where part because part of you hoped to understand where he’s coming from.

“you were all blushy with me!!” he is currently on his mission to prove that you liked him.

“when?!”

“last week! it even reached your nose and you were so cu-”

“han jisung! it’s winter! i had colds last week!”

“what about that time in the cafeteria when you were all shy?! and that time when you were explaining to me, OUT OF THE BLUE, about how liking someone makes your heart beat and stuff? or when i would catch your eyes on me?!”

“when were those even?! and you totally took that biology thing out of context!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. you are so into this argument now.

the both of you went through this banter with your voices going higher the further the banter gets for as long as your memory (or jisung’s. he’s racking up his brain to save himself) could allow. however, as the banter got stretched, the more he realized that he really did misunderstand you and your adorable actions. by a lot. so when it finally donned him that he has such a thick face for thinking like that, plus assuming that you would confess, he finally kept quiet and let himself absorb the stupidity he has done.

for you, however, you find this whole strange exchange hilarious. normally, if it was other guys, you’d have slapped him across the street for assuming things. but it is han jisung. he never rubbed it on anyone’s faces that he has a lot of admirers. he never gets cocky about his popularity. he gets shy over small praises (he loves praises). he also managed to teach the whole class one lesson in calculus minutes before an exam just because his friends asked him to teach them a crash course, until the whole class joined their little tutorial.

“soo...” you tried to start.

“wait don’t talk anymore this is kinda embarrassing for me,” he closed his eyes shut as if he's trying to convince himself to wake up from this embarrassing nightmare.

you giggled, well isn't he adorably clumsy? he's weird but you'd just take it as another opportunity to gain a close friend. “do you still need help in biology? i kinda need help in calculus...”

“alright, let’s head down the diner” he answered immediately before walking straight forward without looking at you.

"jisung!” he stopped on his tracks but without looking at you. “it’s this way!" you pointed at the opposite direction of where he was going. he turned towards you and fast-walked in that direction until you told him to wait for you in which he slowed down his steps by tenfold until you were right beside him. still not letting your eyes meet. he’s that embarrassed.

little did you both know a close friend is not only thing you'd gain from this.

[talesofstyles]

Quid Pro Quo

Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst :))) [7k]

massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume @for-fucks-sake-h and @emotionally-imbruised​ 🥺💛

This has got to be one of the worst weeks of your professional life.

It’s only Thursday and this past week you haven’t left your office before eleven every night. You’re currently working on nine cases, two of which require immediate action, and you’ll most likely have to go to trial for at least three of the cases because the motions to dismiss that you filed were denied. Last night alone you didn’t get a wink of sleep because you were busy preparing for a deposition this morning, which turned out to be practically useless, because your client completely ignored your advice and said everything you told them not to and basically shit the bed for you.

You know this is what you signed up for when you decided to become a lawyer at a top law firm in the City. Clifford Chance is not a joke, there’s a reason why they’re number second in the UK and you knew that long before you even started working here. There’s a common knowledge which most law students throughout the UK knows, that if you work at Clifford Chance, you don’t get to sit around. Put it this way: if you let six minutes tick away without achieving anything, you’ve wasted the firm fifty pounds. Twelve minutes: one hundred pounds. Eighteen minutes: one fifty. You do the math.

It’s not that you hate your job. On the contrary, you absolutely love your job. You know you’re good at it. You love the thrill of negotiation. You like to argue and make the best point in the room. You’re addicted to the adrenaline rush of closing a deal, and frankly, nothing satisfy you more than spotting the loopholes in a contract (with the exception of sex of course but it has really been a while and you’re practically a nun these days so it’s not even worth mentioning).

 But sometimes it’s just too much. You’ve been working for fifty five hours per week, and sure, the money’s good (scratch that—the money’s great), but you don’t have a life outside of work and you’re beginning to realise that it’s one hell of a price to pay. 

The truth is, you know all this nonsense is not because you hate your job, nor because you’re stretched too thin. Interestingly, you actually thrive under pressure and you know that’s one of your qualities that makes you a good lawyer. And life outside of work? Even the thought of it makes you laugh. Your work is your life. You’ve never complained about that. This bitterness inside of you that you don’t even realise exists emerged when Harry Styles waltzed into your firm three months ago. You don’t normally make a big deal about people coming into the firm, because you’re good with people and you’re friends with everyone. But the thing is, you resent him because your firm gave him a senior partner title right away, one that you’ve been busting your arse for by working about two hundred hours per month minimum for the past year, just because he came from your firm’s rival which happens to be the number one law firm in the UK. And on top of that, he didn’t come empty handed. He brought five big clients with him when he came knocking on your firm’s door, and that sort of sealed the deal for your managing partner to choose him instead of you to be promoted to senior partner this year.

Bloody bum licker.

Your frustrated groan bounces off the thin walls of your two bedroom flat that you shared with your best friend and you accidentally slam the door a little too harsh. Luckily, she’s used to you coming home in such a state for the past three months, so she just turns her head to see you from where she’s sat on the couch in the living room, stifling a laugh.

“Harry Styles?” She ventures, smirking at you and you groan in annoyance as you throw your keys in the bowl.

“Harry,” you grunt. “Fucking Styles.”

Fran can’t help but laugh, and you give her a look that tells her you’d probably kill her if she keeps that up as you walk past her and straight into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, so she’s back trying to stifle her laughter.

“Alright,” she replies, you can hear amusement in her tone. “What did he do this time?”

“He took my case!” you snap as you plop down on the couch with a bottle of Riesling in your hand. Fran puts her laptop on the coffee table and turns to face you, sitting expectantly, waiting for the oncoming rant. “He’s just- ugh. I can’t stand him, Fran. He’s unbelievable.”

“What?” She stares at you in confusion. “How?”

“So Luke came to the office this morning-”

“Luke-”

“Don’t-” you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. “I know what you’re about to say, and yes, that Luke. So, he came to the office this morning because he’s got a problem. Basically, his company just cut a huge deal but he needs to get out of this contract because his general counsel accidentally let them slip something into the fine print.”

“Shit,” she remarks. “That is a fireable offense.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “The guy was fired on the spot. The thing is, if Luke fulfills this order, he goes out of business.”

“And if he doesn’t,” she pauses, looking at you for a second before adding another remark. “Shit, they’ll sue him for breach of contract.” 

“Exactly,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it all day trying to spot loopholes in the contract to save his company.”

You really miss working together with Fran. You’ve been living together since you were both still in law school, and Fran used to work in Clifford Chance as well until ten months ago when she decided she wanted to focus on fashion law and moved to Addleshaw Goddard.

It’s not that you’re not happy for her. You’re glad she found something that she’s passionate about. It’s just you’re so used to working on cases and going to mock trials together and you can’t deny that you miss it sometimes. You just wish that she’d stayed, because you know it would be much easier to handle Harry if you’ve got your best friend with you.

“Right,” she nods. “And I’m guessing Harry came to you and he wanted in?”

“That bastard!” You scowl. “He just waltzed into my office out of the blue and was like, ‘I gather Luke Whiteacre needs to get out of something? I want in.’ I mean… who does that?! He didn’t even say hi when he walked in!”

Fran snickers at your terrible impression of Harry. She hasn’t met him yet but she knows there’s no way he talks like that. “And you’re upset because he didn’t say hi?”

“Fran!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” she hastily amends. “Look, maybe he’s just trying to help? He’s not taking your case, babe, believe me. You’re still on it, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am,” you let out another sigh.

“See?” She goes on. “And even if he tries to, Luke wouldn’t let it happen. He’s been your client since forever.”

“Still. I don’t like the fact that he thought he could just walk into my office and hijack my case,” you say in exasperation. “I’m gonna kill him, Fran. I swear to god I’m gonna kill him.”

Fran burst in laughter, muttering your name in a chastising tone. “Don’t. You won’t look good in prison stripes,” she shakes her head. “Really rubs you in the wrong way, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you roll your eyes.

“Come on, babe,” she continues with a smirk. “I’ve said this before, you need to shag him. Take out all those frustrations…”

“Keep that up and I’ll put your name on my people-to-murder list next to his,” you grunt, standing up from the couch and head towards the kitchen hoping to find some treats from the snack cabinet.

Fran giggles as she takes her laptop back onto her lap and begins typing. “Let’s go out,” she suggests. “Been a while. You look like you could use a night out.”

“I can’t,” you slump against the couch with a bag of chocolate buttons. “He’s on his way here.”

“What? Harry?” She looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Yeah,” you shrug carelessly. “We need to work on Luke’s case.”

“Have you still got some condoms in your room?” She says teasingly. “I’ve got some just in case you need them. Just-”

The sound of the doorbell rings cuts your best friend’s teasing remark. It’s definitely Harry, and you give Fran one last death glare and Ross Geller’s version of middle finger as you get up from the couch and walk towards the front door to let him in.

“Hey,” he greets you with his usual smug smile that irritates you to no end. “Lovely flat you’ve got here.”

“We better get started,” you say dismissively as you close the door behind him before you lead him into your living room. You suddenly realise that it’s your first time seeing him not in one of his expensive suits. Not that you care enough about him to notice that. It’s just he happens to be wearing a lot of Jermyn Street suits, and you know they don’t come cheap. 

This time he’s only in his crisp white button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbow. His arms are full with folders that you asked him to take from the office, and as the two of you walk into your living room, you see Fran turning her head to greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey, you must be Fran,” he smiles as he strides to the couch.

“And you must be Harry,” Fran replies, before tilting her head to smirk at you. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” Harry chuckles. “Only good thing, I hope?”

“Oh,” Fran can’t help but snort. “Only the best.”

You end up ordering Chinese because neither of you have had dinner, and Fran ends up helping both you and Harry on the case in the living room. Even with three heads brainstorming together you’re still struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

It is now past midnight and you and Harry are still working on your case. Fran has gone up to her room a little over two hours ago, leaving just the two of you in your living room. Your coffee table is strewn with photocopied draft contracts, financial reports, note-pads covered in scribbles, post-its and two cups of cold coffee from four hours ago that both of you keep accidentally drinking. Take-out boxes are littering the floor, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you read through yet another file to find literally anything which could potentially help.

“I tell you what, this is ironclad,” you let out a heavy sigh as you throw the document on the coffee table in defeat. “Houdini wouldn’t even get out of this contract.”

“We need to adjourn,” Harry suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Regroup tomorrow to get to the bottom of this with clear heads. I’ve got a trial at half nine but I’ll be done by noon.”

“I can’t rest before we figure this out,” you state stubbornly, pausing for a second to let out a yawn. “But you go home. I’ll let you know if I’ve got something.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You have to rest. If you were to come up with something you would’ve by now.”

You feel a stab of indignation. “Are you saying that I’m not capable of getting to the bottom of this myself?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry says in exasperation. “How did you even come up with that? I was just saying you’re knackered, well we both are, so we’re not thinking clearly. But you know what? If you wanna keep going, that’s your decision. But I’m not going to.”

“Well, I never asked you to!” you retort defensively.

Harry rolls his eyes as he gets up from your couch, heading towards the door without saying another word and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. With Harry, you’re quite capable of going from calm to seething in 0-60, and you’re too pissed to even notice Fran stifling her giggles from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” Fran appears in the living room with a glass of water in her hand, staring at you with one eyebrow arched high. “There’s no tension there at all.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, give it a rest!”

***

By two o’clock you’re already exhausted and brain dead after only three hours of sleep and non-stop work since this morning. You haven’t even had lunch yet, but even just the thought of eating already makes you nauseous because you can’t stop thinking about how crushed Luke is going to be when you tell him that he’s going out of business. Truth be told you don’t want to jump that far, but what Harry said last night keeps replaying on your mind like a broken cassette. ‘If you were to come up with something, you would have by now.’ And here you are, twenty-eight hours later, still have got nothing.

Speak of the devil.

“Where have you been?” Harry asks in a prickly tone as he walks into your office. His brows are knitted together and he looks concerned. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Honestly, a ‘hi’ would be nice.

“I’ll tell you where,” you shift your attention from your computer and look at him. “I was getting screwed by Berkeley Group and trying to figure out what to do about it.”

Harry gives you a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“I went there with a dozen win-win offers and they shot down every single one,” you say stonily.

“Did you threaten litigation?” asked Harry, a bit superciliously.

“Harry, I threaten them with everything but the kitchen sink,” you flash him an incandescent look. “The thing is, this contract is airtight and they know it.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry says promptly with a glint of hope in his eyes. “And this won’t make Luke go out of business.”

“What you on about?”

“Slicing and dicing,” says Harry with a smug smile. 

You flash him another incandescent look. “Are you telling me that your big brilliant idea is to split his commercial division from his retail?”

The glint of hope disappears from his eyes as he looks at you. “This is the only way out.”

“Cutting someone’s arm off is not a way out!” you practically shriek. 

“It is if their life depends on it!” Harry yells in frustration, the volume of his voice matches yours and you can’t help but notice two associates stop for a second just to have a peek at you and Harry having a screaming match before they continue walking past your office.

“Look,” he begins again, and you know he’s calmed down a little because he’s not as loud as three seconds ago. “If we do this, we have a chance to get Berkeley back to the table before we cut anything off.”

“Listen to me Harry,” you venture after a pause. “I’m sorry but we’re not going back to Luke with this bullshit. Thank you for your help so far, but you’re off the case.”

“What?” Harry turns to you in disbelief.

“You heard me,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect. “I’m taking back this case.”

You turn your attention back to some random document on your desk, pretending to read carefully, not daring to meet his eyes. Luckily he leaves your office without saying another word after a second or two of pause, and you slump back further on your chair as he slams your door behind him.

For the rest of the afternoon you’ve decided to keep yourself busy with your other cases, but you know deep down you won’t be able to focus on anything else before you get Luke out of the woods. You can’t let him go out of business. You just can’t. Not only because you’ve been looking after his company for years, hell you were only an associate when he first became a client, but you also saw with your own eyes how his company grew. He was only just starting his business when he came into your firm, and you witnessed it firsthand how he nurtured it into the big and successful company it is now.

On a side note, you also can’t stop thinking about what happened in your office earlier. Sure, you and Harry don’t particularly get along like a house on fire, but you didn’t have to be so rude, did you? His approach to the problem might be different than yours, but deep down you knew he was only trying to help.

So on your way to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you decided to stop by his office. You know you owe him an apology. 

“Hi,” his door is open but you decided to knock anyway. “Mind if I come in?”

He looks up at you instantly, pushing his chair a little further away from his desk to break his attention from his computer. “Of course not, come in.”

“Look-”

“Look-”

You both say simultaneously, before breaking into a chuckle. 

“Let me go first,” he begins with a smile, which for some reason doesn’t look smug this time and you nod. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. That case is yours to begin with, and I should’ve trusted you to bring it home how you see fit.”

“Well I’m sorry too,” you add hastily. “Guess I let my emotion get the best of me back there. I was rude when you were only trying to help.”

“Hey, no need to apologise to me,” he replies without flickering. “I absolutely understand.”

“It’s just,” you continue as you saunter to his desk. “Luke was my first client. Ever. The first time I went solo on a case, it was for his company. I just can’t let him down.”

“Look, we don’t know that yet,” he assures you gently. “And even if it comes to that point, it’s not your fault. If anything it’s the general counsel’s fault.”

“Holy shit-” you say suddenly. “Harry!”

“What?” he looks at you in confusion.

“The general counsel didn’t just make one mistake,” you go on as you look at Harry with glimmering hope. “He made two, he never ran the final contract by me.”

“Holy shit he didn’t,” Harry remarks. “Because he knew you’d catch any mistake. So he didn’t make a mistake…”

“No it was on purpose,” you can’t help a pleased little smile coming to your lips. “Isn’t it a coincidence that he just signed a contract to work at a subsidiary of Berkeley?”

“This is brilliant,” he replies excitedly. “You’re brilliant.”

“Say that again?” you joke.

“No, you need to get them on the phone right now,” Harry gives you a rictus smile. “And I need to find us some bloody champagne.”

***

Harry grins as he walks into your office and asks, as though you’re mid-conversation. “Have you made the call?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” you grin when you notice a bottle of Moët & Chandon in his hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Leftovers from the Christmas party,” he chuckles as he quickly opens it . “How’s it? What did they say?”

“Well, the contract is back exactly the way it was,” you begin, giving him a smug smile for a change. “Well, with a twenty five percent increase.”

He looks at you suspiciously, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Twenty five?”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes comically. “Forty.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles. “You don’t mess about, do you? Remind me to never mess with you.”

You laugh and take a sip of the champagne. “We need to celebrate this.”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Oh no, I’ve got something better,” you smirk as you hand him a folder. “Take a look.”

Harry takes the folder promptly and begins skimming through the documents, occasionally taking sips of the champagne in between. “Aha, you need to get out of a deal.”

“Exactly,” you grin. “We need to get out of a deal I negotiated for a mobile payment app with our client’s credit card provider.”

“This is a three years deal and you’re only three months in,” Harry observes as he continues skimming through the files.

“Well, that’s what makes it fun, innit?” your grin widens.

“Oh, absolutely. This is fun,” his eyes twinkling in delight. “You don’t have any legal grounds to do it. Have you got something in mind?”

“Mhm,” you hum as you take another swig of champagne. “I think if I can find a reason to pay into a trust instead of to them directly then we can squeeze them…”

“Make them take a buyout,” Harry adds.

“Look at us finishing each other’s sentences already,” you make an elaborate gesture with your champagne flute and Harry gives you a shrill laugh.

“We’re best friends now, aren’t we?”

You retort at once. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Alright,” says Harry, his eyes still flashing with amusement. “That’s a good plan by the way. What do you want me to do?”

“I need precedents by noon.”

“You’ll have them on your desk by nine am sharp,” he smirks.

***

Harry keeps his promise.

When you arrive in your office at a little over nine, there are six folders from Harry waiting for you on your desk, which means that he didn’t only get you one or two but six precedents for the new case that you’re both working on. This is the boost of confidence that you need, because today you’re scheduled to go to the judge’s chamber and meet with the lawyer on the opposing side. Who knows, maybe this will be a quick one and the case will be over by the end of the day.

Well, that’s a nice thought. But in order for the case to be dismissed, the lawyer from the opposing side needs to show up here first and foremost. You’ve been sitting in the judge’s chamber for nearly fifteen minutes now, and he has warned you about ten times that if the other lawyer doesn’t show up, he would have to deny your motion to dismiss.

“Hello, sorry I’m late,” a voice pipes in from the door, and when you turn around, you see a woman with a smug smile that reminds you of Harry’s, clad in L.K. Bennett from head to toe walks into the room. She offers you a hand before she sits down, and you politely reach out yours for a handshake. “Camille Sweetings, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” you give her a mocking smile as you begin confidently. “Well, you haven’t lived up to your obligations and according to these six precedents, we have the right to nullify this entire deal right now.”

You really don’t like the look on her face. Any other lawyers would at least be slightly ticked to hear that, but she still has the same smug smile across her face. “You don’t have the right to do anything, you’re in violation of your contract.”

“Paying into a trust isn’t a violation,” you frown.

“No,” she agrees. “But meeting with the competition is.”

You can’t see your own face, but if you do, you’re most likely to look like you’ve just seen a ghost. How did she even know that? You try to remain calm and look at the judge. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No,” she’s smiling as she says the word. “You just didn’t know I’d find out about it. Your Honour, I’ve got a confirmation that YN YLN has engaged in a pattern of dirty tricks, unethical behaviour and borderline illegal activity. All in the name of ‘representing’ her clients.”

Your rage simmers up into a froth. “If you’re gonna say all that about me, you better damn well be able to back it up.”

You want nothing more than to rip off the smirk across her face as she hands two files to the judge. “Here are two of Ms YLN's old cases. There you’ll find settlements withheld and meetings with the competition.”

“How the hell did you get these?!” you exclaim indignantly. “Your Honour, my past cases have no relevance here.”

“No, but your answers to my question do,” he says sternly. “Did you or did you not meet with the competition last week?”

***

You stride back into your office furiously. Who the hell was that woman? You didn’t even know her yet she apparently knew a damn lot about you. Nobody even knew you had a meeting with the competition last week, so there has got to be something bigger going on yet you just can’t seem to figure that out.

You begin to realise maybe this whole case isn’t a good idea and you silently promise yourself that you will never take on anything with getting out of contracts or deals or basically everything that Harry is good at ever again. This isn’t your thing, this is Harry’s. Your thing is everything that has everything to do with mergers, acquisitions, all that, just like Fran’s thing is everything with fashion law. This whole thing is really stressing you out and you plan to speak to Harry when you get the chance later today to just hand him the case. 

Speak of the devil.

“Hey! How was the hearing?” he sounds jovial as he walks into your office with a bright smile. “Should I get another bottle of champagne for tonight? Of course when I say ‘get’ I meant ‘steal’ from downstairs.”

“The judge bit my head off,” you scoff.

He flashes you a quizzical look. “What? Why?”

“The other lawyer found some dirt about me,” you begin, already seething as you picture her face with that bloody smug smile in your head. “She found two of my old cases and said really nasty things about me to the judge. And before you say anything, no, I didn’t do anything illegal. But I’ve got to admit it was unethical.”

“Shit,” he looks at you, concerned. “Look, there’s no way they could’ve found all those shit just like that.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about,” you reply at once. “There’s got to be something bigger going on. This is a desperate move, I tell you.”

“I agree,” he nods. “It sounds shady, and in my experience the other side only does something like this when they’ve already done something even shadier.”

You look at him with a glint of hope. “So you also think they’re hiding something?”

“Yeah,” he sounds so sure. “And don’t worry, we’re gonna find it.”

“Good,” you remark. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let bloody Camille Sweetings get the better of me.”

“Wait, who?” this time, it’s Harry who looks like he has just seen a ghost. The colours have drained from his face, and you look at him in confusion.

“Camille Sweetings,” you repeat yourself, wrinkling your nose in disgust because you hate the sound of her name rolling out of your lips. “Why? Do you know her?”

“Have they put my name on this case?” he ignores your questions.

“Yeah, yesterday,” you frown. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath before he begins, looking at you in the eyes. “She and I, well, uh, we were together for a while.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your dismay. “Fucking hell, Harry. As if this isn’t complicated enough!”

You lapse into silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say.

“I think this is personal,” he ventures after the pause. “Look, if you want me off the case now, I completely understand. I won’t fight you. But I hope you don’t because you need help now more than ever.”

“Just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Please get out of my office.”

***

By nine pm you’ve already come up with three win-win offers, yet Camille bloody Sweetings gives you a shrill laugh every time and shoots down every single one. Honestly, she is the female version of Harry. They make a great couple, those two shady bastards. They should’ve gotten married and make a couple of shady children.

“Sod off, Harry,” you say without even moving your head from looking at your computer, but you know he’s standing in front of your office, probably waiting for the right time to come in. Honestly, he might be a brilliant lawyer but he sucks big time at a simple game of hide and seek. Behind the wall? That’s a toddler-level hiding spot.

“No,” he insists, finally walking towards your desk. “I wanna help.”

“I told you I don’t need your help,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect.

He says your name sternly, making you look in his direction and finally meets his eyes. “Believe me, you do. You think I’m shady? That bloody snake is ten times worse. You need help, and I don’t care what you say because I’ve just checked and my name is still on the attorneys listed.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Take a look at this. This is as best as she could get yet she bloody refused them all.”

Harry takes the files from your hand and quickly skims through the documents, muttering one or two profanities under his breath before he puts them back on your desk. “You know what, we’re going out tonight.”

Is he joking? 

“My arse is on the line here in case you haven’t realised,” you look at him in disbelief. “She pulls shit like this again, it’s gonna cost me my license.”

Your name rolls out of his lips again and he looks at you without blinking. “Come on, we need to blow off some steam. We don’t do that, we’re gonna kill each other.”

Three hours later, you feel like you’ll never be able to get out of the comfiest bar stool you’ve ever sat on. You’ve never been to Hawksmoor, but Harry swears this place is good even though it’s filled with boring bankers with their ties stuffed in suit pockets (not that Harry’s tie isn’t also stuffed in his suit pocket, but, you know, at least he’s not a banker), so you followed his lead and let him take you here.

The salvaged furniture, low lighting, comfy seating and charming staff make it an easy place to settle into. Sitting beside you is Harry with his neat whiskey, which you realise that he hasn’t finished when you’ve already had three refills of your gin and tonics. Your head is most likely going to fall off tomorrow morning, you just know it.

“Argh,” you groan. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Right now?” Harry deadpan. “Huge quantities of alcohol.”

“Sod off,” you playfully nudge his shoulder. “By the way, you’ve got more ex-girlfriends lawyers I should know about?”

Harry laughs, his eyes crinkled and shining. “I’ll send you a list.”

“Good,” you mumble against the edge of the glass, before taking another swig of your drink.

“How about you?” Harry is smirking at you, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Any lawyers you’re seeing that I should know?”

You laugh. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Shut up,” Harry looks at you suspiciously, still with a huge shit-eating grin. “You’re telling me you’ve never got involved with anyone at work?”

There’s silence.

“Shit,” Harry remarks. “Who was it?”

You exhale sharply before you answer. “Luke.”

Harry takes a gulp of his drink. “Well, that makes sense.”

“You don’t even know which Luke I was talking about,” you frown. “You could be wrong, you know. There are millions of Lukes.”

“Oh, of course it’s Luke Whiteacre,” he chuckles. “Didn’t go to law school for nothing, did I? But I’ve got to say, it finally makes sense.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you say sternly, starting to realise that you’ve probably made a mistake of telling him. “It was a long time ago anyway.”

“So, how was he?” he’s grinning.

You can’t help but laugh. “Are we having a girl talk right now?”

“No,” he shrugs carelessly. “Just wanna know how he was.”

“You want me to go into details?” you tease, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s glad you’re not as tense as a few hours prior. “Cause I could. What do you wanna know? Stamina? Girth? Technique? I could go on…”

“Ew!”

You’re laughing so hard that you nearly fell off the bar stool if Harry didn’t quickly catch you, and you realise this is the first time your arm brushes against his, and for a second you’ve both stilled, but you ignored it because this doesn’t mean anything. You’re both drunk anyway. “Why did you break up with she-who-must-not-be-named?” you peer at him.

“We had a pregnancy scare,” he says, looking down for a second at his drink before taking another swig.

“Shit,” you gape at him. “Was she-”

“No, she wasn’t,” he shakes his head. “But it made me realise that she’s not the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, let alone actually having children with. So I called it off.”

“Sorry,” you can’t help yourself from chuckling. “But you made the right decision. Don’t have a baby with a snake.”

“Don’t apologise, you’re right,” Harry joins you in laughter. “How about you and Luke? What happened?”

“Work got in the way,” you drain the rest of your drink before motioning for the bartender to get you another one. “I was only an associate back then so I worked so hard to get junior partner. And his company wasn’t as big as it is now so he was working crazy hours too because he was trying to expand it. We saw each other about three times a month for half a year before we called it off.”

“Three times a month?” his eyes widen in surprise.

“Mhm,” you hum, mouthing a thank you to the bartender as he hands you another drink. “We were besotted but we just didn’t have time for a relationship.”

“Do you still-”

“What? No,” you laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. The ship has sailed now.”

“Good,” he smiles at you, before hastily corrects himself. “I mean, good for you.”

You take another big gulp of your drink before you push it away. “Alright, playtime’s over,” you smirk at him. “Let’s get back to work.”

“Are you joking?” he gives you a quizzical look. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re drunk.”

“I just need two cups of coffee and a cold shower and I’ll be fine,” you reply as you hop off the bar stool, he quickly reaches his hand out for you to hold. “Let’s go back to my place so I can have a quick shower.”

“Let’s go to mine,” he offers. “Technically Maida Vale is closer from here than Hammersmith.”

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” you deadpan, your voice a little slurred. “Should’ve bought me dinner first, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’ve bought you lots of dinners,” he retorts. 

“No, Styles,” you shake your head, chuckling. “Clifford Chance bought me dinners. Been using the company’s card, haven’t you?”

Harry laughs. “You’ve got me.”

***

In under an hour, you’ve arrived at Harry’s flat, had a cup of coffee, and a cold shower just as you requested. You’ve ditched your work dress and slipped into the clothes that Harry had laid on his bed for you; a blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of black shorts, and when you walk into his sitting room, you see him sitting on his plush sofa with some clipped documents in his hand.

Your eyes dart around his flat once again as you plop yourself down on his sofa. He’s got a great taste, you’ve got to admit, because his flat is lush. It’s on the fourth floor of a beautiful, red-brick, Edwardian mansion which Maida Vale is well-known for, and the inside is modern meets classic. The gray panelled walls blend nicely with the elegant patterned wood floor, and the cream curtains really tie the look of his flat altogether. It really is a gorgeous flat, not to mention the white marble en suite and his really neat, sparsely decorated bedroom.

“Alright,” you begin, taking a document into your hand and begin skimming through briefly only to put it back on the coffee table in less than thirty seconds. “I’ve been at it all day, we’ve been at it for a while and it’s getting us nowhere. I think we need to shake down some employees.”

“And that’s all well and good,” he turns to look at you. “But if we don’t know what to ask, we’re not going to get any answers.”

“Yes we will,” you insist. “They don’t know what we don’t know, do they?”

“They don’t know what we don’t know…”

“That’s literally what I just said,” you frown.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Look, I’m saying according to this report, their accounts are growing by 200% a month.”

“Wait a second,” you remark. “If that’s true then why are they clinging to this deal like it’s their newborn and I’m Herod?”

“Because maybe they’re not really growing by 200% a month,” Harry adds. “Look, March, 5 million new users, but 60% of these card holders don’t even seem to know they have the cards.”

“Holy shit,” your eyes widen in surprise. “The people are real, but the accounts are fake. Harry, this isn’t just shady, this is the type of shit that lands someone in prison. And if Camille knows all this…”

Harry grins. “Wait til the judge sees this.”

“The judge?” you look at him suspiciously. “Why don’t we just leverage them into letting us out?”

“Because, darling, we have the upper hand now,” he says, still grinning. “We can’t give her a chance to get it back.”

“Harry, if Camille has anything to do with this it would ruin her,” you warn him. “I can’t let you do this to someone you once cared about.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about her,” Harry says harshly. “Not anymore. If she doesn’t want to be ruined she shouldn’t have gotten involved in this. And she damn sure shouldn’t have fucked with someone I care about.”

“What?”

“You better get some sleep,” he jerks his head towards his bedroom. “We’re going to the court first thing in the morning.”

***

Harry’s bed has got to be one of the comfiest places on earth.

He gave you his bed for the night and opted for the couch, which you bet just as cosy so you didn’t really feel bad. When you wake up, he’s already clad in his white button-up shirt and black trousers, swinging the fridge open to get a freshly squeezed cranberry juice.

“Morning,” he smiles when he notices you as he pours some coffee and juice for both of you. “Have some toast.”

“You know how to treat your guest with a good breakfast, don’t you?” you tease him as you look around the jars on the breakfast nook. There are several kinds of luxury marmalade, strawberry jam with champagne, wild blossom honey and even Belgian chocolate spread. Honestly, who is this man?

“No hangover?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you chuckle. “I mean my head is pounding of course but it’s not too bad, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You want some nurofen?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head and take the cup of coffee from Harry’s hand. “Harry, we need to talk.”

He sighs. “You’re gonna try to change my mind, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you nod as you look through the jars of fancy jams, trying to choose one, before going with just salted butter instead. “I can’t let you do that. She might be a snake but I’m not. We’re not.” 

Harry just look at you in silence, and you continue.

“If we do this, then what’s the difference between us and her?” you go on, trying to sound convincing. “We’re better than that. We’re good people, you know.”

“But we’re going to make her pay,” he finally concedes and you smile. “Really make her pay.”

“That I agree,” you nod. “Okay, I’ll just go home quickly to get changed then we’ll meet at the office? Need to pay her a visit don’t we?”

“We can just go together,” Harry suggests. “We’ll stop by your flat then we can go straight to that snake’s office.”

***

“Are you crazy?” Camille flashes an incandescent look at both you and Harry. “I sign that, my client will be on the brink of bankruptcy!”

“So you rather go to prison?” Harry frowns and you try to stifle your giggle. “I mean, it’s your choice, but-”

“Fine!” she says in exasperation. “I’ll sign it. But give me your word this wouldn’t go out of these walls.”

You hand her the file and pen, and as she’s signing it, you can’t resist yourself. “You go near me or my clients again I swear to god you are dead fucking meat.”

Harry can’t help but chuckling, and you both don’t waste another minute in Camille’s office before you head out with smug smiles plastered across both of your faces. 

“You’re a badass lawyer,” he compliments you as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Stating the obvious there,” you smirk as you slide into his car and buckle up your seat belt. “But thank you, you’re not a shit lawyer yourself.”

“Since we’re passing compliments, shall we do it over a drink?”

“Drinks, Styles,” you shoot him a savage smile. “And you’re buying. Not Clifford Chance.”

Harry laughs, closing the car’s door. “As you wish.”

-

gif

[jerbric]

to save myself (and everyone else)

Summary: Hunter's only ever purpose in life was to stay alive until the Day of Unity, when he would fulfill his preset destiny per the Titan's plans. Not once did he ever think he would be travelling back in time to prevent that destiny from being fulfilled.

Note: This was the very first draft of my time travel AU where the Day of Unity happens, things go wrong, Hunter time travels to the past in order to prevent all of it from happening. In this draft, the original idea was that Hunter was going to die during the Day of Unity, but later on he gets "resurrected" by the Owl Crew, and they essentially make a time travelling machine. Hunter kind of volunteers to be the "chosen one" to go back, but also it's because the way things turn out depends on his past self's actions. Anyway, unlike the final draft of the AU, future Hunter and past Hunter are both still the same age, just that future Hunter is a few months older. LOL so anyway the prologue for the final draft is going to get posted on ao3 sometime this week but I wanted to post this draft anyway.

Making it through the castle was quite easy. When you have the map of the castle memorized and you look like a certain golden high-ranked member of the coven, no one really questions you. As long as you look like you know what you’re doing.

Almost.

The closer they got to their destination, the emptier the halls got. There weren’t many guards down this wing of the castle, which made the job just a little easier. There wasn’t anyone nearby to watch or hear the upcoming conversation. No one to spy or snitch when things got explained.

Close.

They rounded the corner and paused. With a glance behind them, reassured that no one had been following them, they let out the breath they were holding. They had prepared themself for days for this exact moment, and it was about to happen. As soon as they got to the door at the end of the hall, things were going to change.

For the better.

Slowly, quietly, they made their way to the end of the hall. They did their best to keep their eyes forward. Looking around is only going to bring back memories, and they couldn’t afford any distractions. Couldn’t afford to get their heartstrings pulled back down the rabbit hole that they had just escaped.

Here.

Standing right before the door, they hesitated. Maybe things happen for a reason, right? The Titan had big plans, and their role for the Day of Unity had been fulfilled, the plan was able to continue. Everything happens for a reason.

If that was true, then why were they here? Why were they doing everything they could to prevent the future, to prevent the Titan’s plans? The Titan was the greater being and every plan it had got executed, all it’s plans were important and set in stone. So why did it feel so wrong to fulfill their destiny?

Deep breath. Fist raised. Two knocks.

There was shuffling heard on the other end, someone shushing someone else. Then, the doorknob turned and slowly, the door opened to reveal a boy. A blond witch with a scar on his right cheek and a nick in his ear. The witch gaped at first at the stranger, but then he frowned, brows tightly knit together.

“What--”

They quickly brought a hand up to cover the witch’s mouth, using their other hand to grab hold of the boy’s collar. Carefully, they pushed the witch back into the room, using their foot to push the door closed behind them. They pushed the witch all the way to the bed, forcing him to sit. The witch brought his hands up, grabbing at the stranger’s arms, attempting to push them away. From behind the witch, a flash of red came flying out, going toward the stranger and pecking away at their mask.

Ignoring the bird, the stranger leaned in close to the witch, the only thing separating their faces was the golden mask. “Stop fighting, I’m not the enemy here. If you give me a second, I can explain everything.”

The witch paused for a moment, eyes wide. The stranger’s voice sounded too familiar. Even the bird had stopped their small attack on the stranger, instead opting to fly back to the unmasked witch. Both of them glanced at each other before giving their attention back to the stranger.

“Good. Now, I’m going to let you go, but I need you to remain calm. Can you do that?” The stranger asked. When the witch nodded, the stranger removed their hand from his mouth, grimacing at the spit left behind on their palm. They should’ve known that the witch was going to attempt that. They released the witch’s collar, and immediately went to remove their wet glove. “I never realized how disgusting this is when I’m the one coming out with a gross and wet hand.”

“Who are you?” The witch growled. His ears twitched and the bird on his shoulder chirped. He fixed his shirt and sat up straighter, eyes narrowed at the stranger before him, dressed in his uniform. The same uniform that was draped on the back of the chair at his desk.

The stranger brought their hands up and slowly removed their mask to reveal the same face of the boy on the bed. The boy gasped, and the stranger sighed. “My name is Hunter.”

Both boys had the same face, hair, scars and nicks. The only real difference was that the stranger’s eyes were a dull magenta rather than the vibrant color that the witch’s eyes were. The bird flew down to the witch’s knee, hopping back and forth as it compared both boys.

“My name is Hunter, and why, how do you look just like me?” The witch exclaimed. He stood up and stepped closer to the stranger, the doppelganger. He stared at them carefully, studying their features and the curious case of their eyes. This had to be some trick, but how?

“You can call me Wittebane, instead. As for your question, it’s because we’re the same person,” the stranger -- Wittebane -- answered. “Let me explain. You might want to sit back down for this.”

Hunter nodded, and sat back down on the bed. He scooted over for Wittebane, who sat beside him with their body turned toward Hunter. The bird chirped and flapped its wings before settling down in Hunter’s cupped hands on his lap. Hunter and the bird turned their attention to Wittebane, curious as to what exactly was going on.

“I’m you, from the future, that’s the first thing I should say.

[babineni]

Angst 19 - "Please don't leave."

Thank you for this 💖 sorry it took me this long to post it mainly bc I accidentally saved it as a draft and then I didn’t check it so it’s been there for two weeks whoops

but anyway have some immediately post-PoE 1 Aloth x Watcher stuff, featuring Gaura first experiencing abandonment issues

below a cut bc it got long

Gaura pulled her knees closer to her chest and wrapped her arms around them a little tighter. She wasn't sure what she hoped this would accomplish. Her body forming the same, nearly suffocating knot that took the space where her heart was meant to be, hardly could have eased her sorrows. She hid her face behind her legs and allowed the tears to come but she didn't grant herself the same freedom when it came to the sounds trying to escape her. Not a single cry left her mouth. The Watcher was scared that if she voiced her anguish, she would never stop weeping.

She knew that her friends would leave her, once their quest against the Leaden Key was done. And yet, the Watcher was still caught off guard by some of the departures.

She was ready when Sagani said goodbye, in fact, she was relieved and happy for her, and wished her a speedy return to her family. She was ready when Kana said goodbye. She knew his mission wouldn't be over until he presented his findings after all. They still shed a few tears, but not many, and none of them were bitter or sorrowful. And Durance... well, if there was someone Gaura was happy to see go, it was him.

But then Pallegina left to report to the ducs, even though she knew the repercussions she would have to endure. Gaura offered a place to stay, a place where she would be valued, cared for and safe, knowing exactly how she would respond. But she couldn't help it, she couldn't stop hoping the paladin would reconsider and stay.

Then Hiravias left as one would expect of a follower of Wael's. Still, Gaura figured that even he needed a place he could return to, a place where he could keep the secrets he uncovered, a place he could call home. She was sad to realize she was wrong.

Then Grieving Mother left. Even though the Watcher couldn't bear children herself, she hoped the midwife would stay for all the women living in and around Caed Nua. She hoped that their connection built upon seeing and knowing one another would be enough. But it wasn't.

And then Edér left and...

And...

And the next thing Gaura knew was, that she was sitting by the hearth in Brighthollow's kitchen, trying to cry as quietly as it was possible.

'There you are. I've been looking all over for you,' Aloth's voice prompted the Watcher to look up and hastily dry her eyes. The wizard stopped in his tracks when he saw the miserable state she was in. For a moment, he awkwardly looked back at the doorway he just passed through but once the moment passed he continued walking towards her. He approached her almost perfectly silently, catiously, burying his own unease under the comforting presence of a friend.

'I just needed some time alone,' Gaura broke the silence. 'I uhh... The lady of Caed Nua shouldn't be seen like a mess. People look to me for guidance and... I'm being a sentimental fool.'

'Come now, you're hardly being fair towards yourself,' Aloth sat down beside Gaura, close enough for his shoulder to touch hers. He shuffled somewhat awkwardly, but he didn't move away from her, nor did he give any other indication of being flustered. For a moment, the Watcher felt the urge to wrap her arms around him and weep on his shoulder, but the moment passed and she stayed motionless.

Gaura let out a sigh and turned her attention to the hearth on her other side. The embers still had a glow, fainter than her own but enough to inspire some reflection.

'No, I have grown... weak here. Caed Nua has made me vulnerable,' she scolded herself. 'I think back to the person I was before I left the Valleys and... I'm not the same.'

'It is only natural,' Aloth answered. 'You have been through a lot. And I imagine, the Watcher abilities alone could change one drastically. But you have carried your burdens with grace and bravery,' he smiled at her shyly, 'and I... I'm glad I was around to see it.' He hesitantly reached for the Watcher's hand, the same way she reached for his months before in the Brackenbury Sanitarium. His touch was somewhat lighter but it carried the same warmth, putting a weak smile on Gaura's face.

'Well... I hope you still see that grace and bravery now,' she chuckled ruefully, as she turned back to the wizard.

'I do.'

Gaura's smile grew a little wider. But her heart still felt heavy.

'I still wish I could feel like I used to. Being able to say goodbye used to feel like... a gift of sorts,' she explained. 'Being able to let go of an attachment free of loss... or grief... was something I felt grateful for. I never mourned for things that were beautiful but... momentary. And in the Valleys everything was beautiful but nothing truly lasted. But now...' The Watcher sighed and let her head hang. 'Like I said... I'm being a sentimental fool.'

Aloth's grip on her hand tightened slightly. Gaura felt him caress a knuckle with his thumb. But the uneasy way he shifted his weight next to her made her wonder if this act of comfort was for her or for him.

'I'm going to miss them too... and I think... I think I understand,' he said. 'Being a spy hardly offers a life full of long friendships. It always felt more appropriate to keep my distance and to cherish moments for what they were without letting it become... more,' he sighed. 'If I were to follow your line of logic, then Caed Nua made me weak too. In no small part, thanks to you. I don't think you need me to explain why this happened to the both of us.'

The Watcher didn't reply, but she felt the ache in her chest ease slightly at the wizard's words. There was a bittersweet comfort lingering in the air and for the first time, Gaura felt that the silence of Brighthollow, which was now empty save for the two of them, was not all that suffocating as she has been feeling it for the last few days.

'Thank you,' she said, as she dried the last of her tears and straightened up. 'I needed that, truth be told.'

'Anytime,' Aloth smiled. 'Although I admit, it feels a bit strange to echo your own ideas back to you.'

'Perspective is funny that way.'

'Indeed.'

Gaura let out a long sigh, trying to rid herself of the rest of her tensions. She gave Aloth's hand a slight squeeze, then she stood up and stretched her limbs. She inhaled deeply, as if the comfort of the wizard's encouragement was a presence she could physically take with her.

'Alright, I think I'm good,' she said, while she turned to Aloth with a smile. 'You were looking for me for something I presume. I'm ready to listen.'

Aloth's smile, however, faltered at her offer. A shade of red tinted his face - one of shame and guilt. He avoided her gaze as he spoke.

'It's... it's not important. It can wait until tomorrow.'

Gaura's heart sank. He didn't need to say anything else. She felt the suffocation of the silence between them grow more oppressive, the longer she was processing the implication hiding behind his hesitant words. She should've guessed the moment he entered that kitchen. She visited him in his room just a few days earlier. She saw the maps, the list of names, the blueprint of a scepter called "Keybreaker". She saw everything she needed to see, but Aloth didn't say anything then, and once they were out of her sight, they were out of her mind.

'When are you going to go?' The Watcher's voice was shakier than she would've liked.

Aloth turned back to her, his gaze full of unsaid apologies.

'I was planning on leaving in two days. But if it makes things easier-'

'It doesn't,' Gaura interrupted him.

The wizard merely nodded as a response and looked down at his hands lying in his lap. The same hands that just a few moments ago filled the Watcher with the comfort of knowing she wasn't alone. He shifted his weight and decided have those hands grab his seat instead so tightly, his knuckles turned white from the effort.

Gaura approached him, fighting the burning sensation overtaking her eyes again. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes, trying to hold on to whatever was left of her dignity. But a moment later, she gave up: she let a quiet curse slip through her lips as she knelt down and let her head drop against Aloth's knees. She shielded her face with her arms, ignoring the wizard tensing up in shock at her touch.

'Please don't leave,' she whispered.

'I... I must,' an awkward answer came from above, prompting Gaura to look up.

'Let me just beg you in peace. Alright?'

Aloth's expression softened slightly. His gaze was still apologetic but his face reflected sincerity rather than discomfort.

'Alright.'

The Watcher hid her face again. 'Please don't leave,' she repeated. 'Please don't leave. Please don't leave.' Her plea to him turned into a mantra for herself. Her eyelids grew heavy as she continued and her tears stopped falling. She might've heard a spell being cast and she might have felt a hesitant stroke against her scalp right before unconsciousness turned her numb to the world around her, but she couldn't be sure.

[m0onbean]

tutoring & loving

genre: enemies to lovers!AU, tutor!reader, popular boy!eunwoo, high school!AU, JEALOUSYYYYYYYY, flooooooof!!! angst but it’s okay because angst is wonderful, basically most of my favorite AU’s combined in one

warnings: jealous eunwoo and this AU is much more in depth than the others ones

words: 2.8k 

note: this is an old draft that has been sitting in my notes so i thought i would post!! enjoy and I HOPE  EUNWOO IS CASTED FOR TRUE BEAUTY!!!

as one of the top students in class, all of your teachers absolutely ADORE YOU

school is pretty smooth for you: you study well, pass tests, socialize with friends....... except for one little threat that makes your life so much more difficult... 

Cha Eunwoo.

not only is he one of the most popular boys in your grade, but unfortunately he’s also your seat partner for English and he’s the most annoying person you have ever met

you haven’t given him a reason to disrespect you!! ... okay maybe sometimes when you see him and his group of friends being loud in the hallways you shoot an icy glare....... ok and MAYBE you roll your eyes everytime he says smth dumb in the middle of class

but other than that??? completely innocent you are. but this man doesn’t seem to agree, as he seems to have made his life goal to ANNOY THE SHIT OUT OF YOU. 

foe ex. you would be peacefully paying attention in class when suddenly you feel something kick your foot 

and when you look up, you see eunwoo “paying attention” to the board and feigning innocence

but you immediately know that he’s just trying to aggravate you because when has this man ever actually paid attention in class??

so you go back to listening when you feel ANOTHER kick and you’re like BITCHoh hell no so you kick him back bc we’re not all perfect human beings let’s be honest

and now y’all are kicking each other back and forth, and everyone can hear the desks shuffling underneath them

he also makes snarky marks constantly when you literally just breathed???

like you would sit down at your seat and he’d be like “Congrats, you’ve somehow managed to choose the ugliest outfit in the world to wear today”

and you respond, “It’s about time i have a turn, you’re wearing the ugliest outfit everyday” and then you just glare at each other until the teacher tells you two to snap out of it

on some days eunwoo will just flat out point out one of your flaws like if your hair is messy or if there’s a stain on your shirt

so one day your English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like Oh he’s just gonna offer me extra credit ... but instead of doing that he asks right off the bat, “i have another student that needs tutoring, are you willing to take one more?”

for the past month, you’ve already been tutoring a few students your teacher recommends to you. it’s easy money, especially since you’re saving up for college 

only this time, you can tell he’s desperate because he’s like “Please (y/n) he’s failing in English and misbehaving in class you’re my only hope!!”

and now you’re like Hawld on..... Why Is He Being So Desperate About This.... like you’re cool with tutoring..... what makes this-

the realization strikes across your face. 

who in this school would you would hate teaching??? who is failing in English??? WHO IS THE BANE OF YOUR EXISTENCE. look to: c. e. w.

 “ofdjoaaja i’ll give you gummy bears or something” he pleads. and honestly, if you were not so broke, you would’ve spat on his feet and walked out the door. but you need the cash, and you sure do like gummy bears.......

you gracefully relinquish, and your teacher gives you a proud smile. he then goes on to tell you that his mom requested extra help smh why couldn’t she have just hired a tutor i hate rich people.. anyways so yeah pls Help me

so the next day @ school you approach your seat and you see eunwoo sitting on his desk, talking to his friends until he notices you.. and he’s about to open his mouth to probs criticize your untied shoelaces but you interrupt him and are like:

“eunwoo i’m privately tutoring you starting today. Meet at the library after school.”

and he’s just sitting there, jaw dropping to the floor and you’re like :) He’s finally quiet for once... 

but little did you know that during class he’d be pestering you with complaints like:“why you??? is there anyone else that can do it???” “i don’t need tutoring.. i’m getting consistent D’s... not a singular F and it ain’t much but it’s honest work” 

at a certain point, you get so sick of his complaints and go like “your mom asked for you to be tutored!!! OK i didn’t just ask to tutor you, you dumbfuck.”

and once you mention his mom he just kinda shuts up... and stares at his desk for the rest of the period

ou notice this and recall the teacher telling you that eunwoo’s mom is a tiger mom... you keep this in mind because now you know that making his mom proud might be his motivation

after school, you wait at the library for him inside.. but a couple minutes pass and you’re like ? did he forget ? .  

and eventually an hour passes and you’re like nope he’s definitely ditching

and honestly,,, you feel a little betrayed and a little hurt ... but just when you’re about to leave you see him panting and making his way to your table nd you’re like ???????and eunwoo’s like “im so sorry i forgot...”

and you’re like oh? so you didn’t ditch? 

and he’s like No!! i just ... forgot. 

and you’re like well you little shit don’t forget next time i’ve been sitting here for an hour..but then he reaches something from his pocket and hands it to you and it’s a triangle sushi (it’s super crumbled too...) 

and he’s like “i got this to make it up” and you’re like flustered and just weirdly but pleasantly surprised he feels this bad about almost flaking

but you catch yourself slipping and go back to your annoyed tone: “uh-What the fuck are you on?? I-Wh-I’m not hungry. T-thanks tho.”

the first tutoring session is... awful to say the least. 

he couldn’t pay attention well and continuously complained and even tried to go off topic

like you’d be asking him what foreshadowing meant and then he’d be like “so.. where’s your family from (y/n)?” 33r*#$&(@$

after an hour of no progress you get frustrated and shut the textbook, about to call it a day

but just when you stand up eunwoo grabs your wrist 

and he’s like “where do you think you’re going?” you scoff and reply with “why do you care? it’s not like you want to be tutored right? well i don’t want to tutor anymore”

when you try to budge, you feel his hand still firmly gripping onto your wrist and you’re like “let go of me” until you realize he’s staring at you dead in the eyes

and in a quiet voice he sadly says “please don’t give up on me... i’m trying my best.” 

it looks like he’s about to tear up and that’s when you realize that you need to be patient for him... and need to help him because he’s trying to make his mom proud. 

when you sit down again, he gets a bit startled that you gave in so easily but regardless, a relieved smile spreads across his face. 

instead of going back to teaching, you conclude that you two should “break the ice” first so tutoring wouldn’t be you two just glaring at eachother

“breaking the ice” turns into a two hour conversation about random things or anything that comes into mind. 

eunwoo is really good at conversing and he’s good at filling in the awkward pauses and bringing up new topics!!

next thing you know the librarian is trying to shoo you guys outside since the library already closed fodjsoakal

when you get back home, there’s a stupid smile on your face and you’re like SHIT why am i smiling? why can’t i stop smiling???? get yourself together youRe just helping him you still think he’s annoying!!! ..but he has a breathtaking laugh... NO he’s still that annoying guy i hate

the rest of the tutoring sessions aren’t as bad at you thought.. eunwoo is actually pretty smart he just has the attention span of a toddler honestly.

you could be trying to read him an excerpt from The Great Gatsby and when it’s his turn to read.. it’s absolutely silent and when you look up like ??? 

you see him staring at you and you’re like “eunwoo.. it’s ur turn” and he’d be snapped out of his trance and be like OH! and ask you where you left off

and inside you’d be like.. was he.. staring at me?? (he actually was. you just looked so pretty reading out loud with such emotion)

after a couple of more classes with him, he starts immensely improving in class. he doesn’t really bother you anymore, but he stills throws some playful remarks at times. 

tutoring sessions seem to be effective, and you learn that he actually has a really.. really great personality

one day, you’re approaching your seat in English and are about to roast eunwoo as your daily routine when you almost bump into somebody

but thank god you have great reflexes so you managed to stop yourself... and when you look up you see a handsome face and you’re like. Oh.and he’s like smiling sheepishly and is like “sorry! i’m clumsy hehe” and you’re like Oh.. he’s cute

you smile back and insist it’s fine.. and now you’re both still standing there smiling at eachother because he’s like eye candy

he manages to introduce himself as Moonbin and you’re like I’m (y/n)!! and then his face transforms into recognition and he’s like “oh! you’re eunwoo’s tutor aren’t you?” 

and you’re like “Oh?? yeah how’d you know?”and he’s like “Ah.. i’m good friends with him. i heard your tutoring sessions are really helpful though. you’re super smart”

and on the outside you’re like :3 m-Me????!??! <3

what you actually say: ah, thank you. 

then he’s like “do you mind if you tutor me too?? i’m kind of struggling in English as well” and you’re like “oh sure!” it’s raining money girl

the bell starts ringing and he waves goodbye 

 you go to your seat with a wide smile, and when you sit down, you don’t notice that eunwoo is glaring at you 

so when you look at him with a smile on your face, he gets even more glary. 

you quickly wipe the smile off and are like “oh it’s you.”

but instead of insulting you back he’s like “why were you talking to Moobin?” and youre ???? “why CAN’T i talk to Moonbin? he was asking me to tutor him.”

when he hears that, he clenches his fists under the desk and is like.. “did you accept his offer?”

and you’re confusedly like “yes.. why would i reject him?”

not one to handle complicated feelings well, eunwoo just stands up, his chair loudly screeching against the floor. 

he wants to tell you that he doesn’t want Moonbin to watch you read lines from poetry so dramatically, smile whenever he makes a joke, text him reminders to study before he goes to sleep. 

but when you’re looking at him with such bewilderment in your beautiful eyes, your facial features frozen as you wait for his next move, he feels disgusting for having these feelings towards you. you’d probably be happier with Moonbin, who doesn’t have these nasty problems you’d be burdened with.

but before you can even properly react, he’s leaving the classroom and you look around, grateful that nobody was watching. 

and you don’t know how it happens.. but your feet control themselves and now you’re running after him, not caring about class starting already

and as you’re sprinting, so many scattered thoughts run through your mind. eunwoo.. jealous? does he like you? and even though you thought you were interested in eunwoo... there’s something about eunwoo you can’t let go about.and there’s no way you’re going to lose him.

so when you finally catch up to him you grab him by the arm and turn him around so he’s facing you... you hug him tightly.

and the crawling feeling that’s been stirring in eunwoo’s stomach suddenly dissipates

and bc you know that nothing will be the same after this, why don’t you just end it off strong? so you confess

you quietly tell him that you’re new to this... relationships have always been a new territory for you. liking somebody is new for you. “please don’t run off and let go of me either... i’m trying my best, too”

and he wants to push you off of him, tell you what’s best for you, and go back to being the annoying shit he once was. but your hug feels so nice and.. well.. maybe eunwoo can be selfish once in a while.  

falling in love with eunwoo is a gradual but addictive progress. when people describe falling in love, they would describe it as fireworks... exciting but risky. you would pretty much say the same but.. it’s so much more than just that.

it’s feeling tingly and funny when he randomly holds your hand or shows affection. it’s feeling enormously upset when you’re not around him or when you see him talking to somebody attractive. it’s feeling empty when he cuddles you because you want this to last forever, but you’re scared because you know it won’t.

you tell him this as you two are nestled on his couch, blankets jumbled across and TV playing some cooking show neither of you care about

he laughs and kisses your forehead which makes you feel that stupid tingly feeling again. 

“are you confessing that you’re in love with me (y/n)?” before you can try to smack him, he says “i love you too.”and with that.. you quietly respond “i love you...” 

and it feels so refreshing voicing that out loud.

eunwoo as a boyfriend would be the most blood rushing and adrenaline pumping feeling there is. he’s filled with so much energy that it’s never not fun around him

he would sneak you into carnivals, and take you on the ferris wheel where you two would probably makeout in the passenger car scksksoao

he’d also try to win you prizes at the arcade but.. he’s just so bad at playing it and either A) you end up playing and winning him a prize or B) he bribes the arcade owner to give him the prize

lots of PDA. lotssss of them. 

sitting next to eunwoo in English is a struggle now.. he’s always distracting you from the teacher. 

like you’d be taking notes but then you’d feel his head on your shoulder and now he’s straight up cuddling you in class

eunwoo always encourages you to have more fun 

“you’re always locked up in your room, studying.”

thus, he likes to knock on your door and enter the house with your parents’ delightful approval (because your parents love him. so much.) and go in your room and shower you with kisses while telling you that it’s time to stop studying because you’ve been reading the same chapter over and over again

your texts to each other would be littered with emojis that don’t even relate to the message. like you’d text “i stopped studying. are you proud of me 💃👒🐟🥐”and he’d reply with “of course my sunshine 🍣🎧🔑”

you still tutor him but your tutor sessions are a lot more longer now since they take place at either of your houses instead of the library LMAO. 

+ after tutoring him, you two would just cuddle and raid your fridges

when you meet moonbin again, eunwoo gets a little jealous again since he thinks that moonbin has a chance of snatching you 

but after kissing him and assuring him that you’ll never be “snatched”, he feels so relieved

eunwoo relishes all of the affection you give him. and he always gives you twice as much :’)

one day the same English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like “is there something you need?”and he’s like “.... ok so tell me how y’all went from kicking eachother to cuddling together in class 🤔🤔”

and you’re like “.. BYE I THINK I HEARD SOMEBODY CALLING ME”

the doors were closed... nobody heard anything... 

when you ask eunwoo why he hated you so much in the beginning, he tells you that he was just jealous of you. jealous of how flawless you did in academics and how you’re such a bright student + your glares were “extremely unnecessary” 

he also tells you that his older brother is already a doctor and has been so successful in everything so his mom always pressures him and compares them

and you’re like weaving your fingers together while telling him “don’t compare yourself. he is him and you are you.” 

and you pause.. and say “and i love you this way. i’m proud of you”

and eunwoo just immediately breaks down right there because nobody ever tells him that.. nobody is ever proud of him

falling in love with one of your enemies was definitely one of the best things that’s ever happened to you :)

[smolbeandrabbles]

Try It On, Take It Off - Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

100 Sentence Challenge Request

Orson Krennic + 95 -  “Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.” Requested by @mysticaltimemachinewench

Author’s Note: Roll with the idea of Halloween and October 31st being things in the Star Wars universe just for this fic, please! This boy is so whiny, I spent all week writing for him last week and he’s still like “write more!” so, I thought I’d post one. It’s because he’s all the bottom of my drafts now I’m sure of it. Boots & Boys - Kesha  Okay, so I was looking for songs to do with dressing up. And I found a bunch of cute love songs about wearing your SOs clothing, but... This one is fun and I needed fun for the premise-!

Disclaimer: Rogue One Characters/SW Universe not mine. / Requested  premise / lyrics & gifs not mine.

Premise: Every Halloween it’s the same thing, and Krennic is sick of people dressing like him. This year he’s determined to get to the bottom of things...

Words: 2010

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual connotations/Pre-Amble

_____

Think it's time that I mention I've got myself an obsession For the smell, for the touch I know I've got myself a habit But I gotta have it now I don't care where, work it out Let me break it down I try it on, I take it off So what you got? Something 'bout boots and boys They bring me so much joy I gotta say I wear 'em both so pretty as I walk in the city Give me boots and boys I'm keeping quite the collection Take nothing less than perfection My men drop beats like a bomb Wind me up, spin me round Oh, lookie what I found (ooh!) I'm crazy for you, crazy for you Hey hey, whatcha looking at? Hey hey, something you can't have They've got me looking rad You feeling that?

---

October 31st was always a date Krennic hated seeing in his calendar. The Death Star had not been a project spanning months by any stretch of the imagination. Orson was many, many years into this – and he was now accustomed to his workers Halloween traditions. He couldn’t say it wasn’t one of the reasons he was glad that it was nearing completion. That, and he might finally get the recognition he deserved. At least for now he had you. Given, you were relatively new to the project when he looked at the timeline as a whole, but you were certainly a necessary piece – and Krennic actually liked you. A lot of the other employees, if he were honest with himself, he actually could have done without. Which is probably why you’d grown close – and then maybe a little too close. But Orson wasn’t going back on that now. This was the day Krennic didn’t want to leave his office – inevitably, it was also the day that everyone would have him chasing all over the structure. Why? Oh, because they all knew how much he hated today too! So as soon as the email pinged in from the other side of the Death Star, Krennic tried everything he could to get them to come to him, or to send him documents, pictures, anything that meant he didn’t have to go on an annoyingly long walk. Orson used practically every persuasive trick in the book, to no avail. Eventually he had to concede rising from his desk, sighing angrily, and gathering his things to head to the problem. Almost immediately he was assaulted with the kind of visuals he’d become accustomed to. It seemed every other person on this damned vessel took today to dress up as him. Now, whilst dressing in the full white Intelligence Bureau tunic would have been against protocol and would have meant he could reprimand them, everyone decided to wear capes of various different colours instead. Some, like his, matched their uniforms – and if it wasn’t also for the fact they copied the way he walked and carried himself, with an unconvincing attempt at his accent and speech patterns, he’d find it quite tasteful. Krennic would almost be flattered, he supposed - perhaps even feel like a trend setter – had the crew not being doing it for any other reason than to mock him. God forbid any of them attempt Lexrulian; one day it was going to make his ears bleed. Others decided to wear their ‘capes’ in the gaudiest colours imaginable, and sometimes Orson felt like he was going to be physically ill just staring at them.

Still, technically all of this was against regulation – and although he probably couldn’t take on the entire staff and win, he took pleasure in chastising those he disliked most. “Isn’t that a little against your uniform regulation?” “Take that off now – before I have you reported.” “Next time I catch you in something like this, you’re off the project.” Annoyingly, he could never keep how irked he was out of his voice – and they took great joy out of that, and never bothered hiding it. When they did take these ridiculous attempts at mocking him off (Though it worked. He supposed.), Krennic knew they’d be pulled back on before he rounded the next corner – but for now at least, Orson could be smug in his little bit of power. The fact he could actually force the crew to remove them. He often pondered how this started. Tarkin, he had no doubt. Krennic wasn’t going to blame himself after all, he knew his uniform looked damn good. He just wasn’t fool enough to think this was respectful admiration. Eventually he reached the person who emailed him and, as predicted, it was an easy fix that Krennic could have done in less than five minutes on his tablet back in his office. The Director almost punished them on the spot for that, but by this time was already too pissed off with the situation to trust himself not to lose complete control. Not that that didn’t happen a lot, especially when everything was stalling – but today that was what everyone wanted. ‘If I see another bad attempt at ridiculing my uniform I’ll scream…’  Orson’s jaw was beginning to ache with the way he was tightening it. Half way back to his office, Krennic took a detour. By now he really was yelling at people – Orson was this close to drawing weapons and kicking them off the station, Project Stardust be damned. Desperately seeking respite, he wandered back to his quarters and as the corridors began to quieten, scuffled along in his boots, sulking. ‘What did I ever do to deserve this-!?’ Reaching the door to his room, Krennic gave a small smile – he would receive relief in here. Well at least she will be sweet... I can tell her my frustrations and she’ll sympathize… As Krennic keyed himself in and the door slid open, he realised just how wrong he could be. You were walking up and down the main room and studying yourself in about every reflective surface you could find. If this wasn’t you, Krennic would have blown it, and immediately all his irritations came flooding back. You were, of course – with access to his wardrobe - pacing around in his uniform. Full Intelligence white, rank bar included. Sure, the sleeves were rolled up – which pained him because it’d take an age to get those creases out - and the cape was a little long for you, but, you had the whole thing on, right down to the boots. Usually Krennic might smirk and call you out on wearing his clothes, after all you did look good in his tailored shirts. Any other day of the week he’d probably be pretty turned on right now. But NOT today. As the door slid closed behind him and beeped locked, you whirled around. The cape moved with you and your eyes fell to it; immediately distracted. Krennic’s uniform was gorgeous on him, but the feeling of power you got when wearing it for yourself was indescribable. You liked running your hands over it – the feeling of the fabric between your fingers very nearly bordering obsessive with your need to do it at every chance you could; it was so perfectly weighted that, in all honesty, the tailoring was a marvel to you. You always made a mental note to thank the designers and sewers for their impeccable work. (On Orson’s entire wardrobe, actually.) “Director.” You presented yourself and looked back to him, “What do you think?” Orson very nearly shivered, and if he wasn’t so pissed he’d probably have let himself. That was Lexrulian – and compared to everything else he’d heard today, was very nearly music to his ears. “What are you doing-!?” There was a snap in the undertone of his voice – agitated, to match the way his jaw tightened. You answered cheerily, nonetheless. “It’s Halloween. So, I’m you! I mean you could be me if you wanted, but I’m not sure the uniform would fit-!” You giggled slightly at the mental image of him in your tight black jacket – no, maybe it wouldn’t fit properly, but it might look really good. If only for a second. Although Krennic was glaring at you by now. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, is all this YOUR idea-!?” For a moment you looked innocent, “No! You mean the fact everyone else does it? I didn’t start it, but I felt I could damn well finish it. Besides, LOOK!, I can do it better than everyone else!” “No! No! Y/N-!” You scrambled up onto the table, and cleared your throat. It was clear to Krennic you’d been practicing, because you had his stance down and his mannerisms almost perfect. He was almost impressed. “The POWER we are dealing with here is immeasurable! Single reactor ignition would be just an inkling of it’s true destructive potential! And I will not fail!” He blinked slowly, thinking you were mixing up at least three of his previous conversations there. There was a long pause before Krennic stepped forward, pointing at you. “GET. DOWN! Do you have any idea how expensive that table was-!?” “Awwww, Orson, c’mon!!” “I’m NOT impressed, GET DOWN!” “Baaabe.” “Don’t whine..!” You backed up just out of his reach, even your best innocent eyes weren’t saving you today – he must have been furious. “But it took me so long, I’ve tried on all the variants, I tried on your dress uniform even-! And it isn’t complete without the cape, and the rain one doesn’t have a patch on the glory of this one!! I thought it wouldn’t drag if I put on my heeled boots, but that didn’t get the look right either! And it’s you – so, it had to be perfect…” Your eyes glittered gently as you tried to plead with him, “I thought if I did it properly, it might make you smile. That it might be more… respectful. I dunno I-” He cut you off, demanding, “OFF. THE. TABLE.” “Well, what are you gonna do-!?!” Krennic was quick on his feet, and even though you’d backed yourself up he still managed to grab your wrist and drag you down. You might have been in his uniform, but you were nowhere near his height; and you might have had his traits down, but you didn’t have his strength either. Meaning within seconds he had you shoved up against a wall – with a squeak – before his lips were on yours, wrists pinned by your sides. He might have been angry, but that only made this kiss hotter, and you practically melted into him. Orson was showing you absolutely no mercy – and you weren’t sure if you really deserved it, but you were at least a little glad of it. Eventually he pulled away from you; leaving you gasping and panting for breath. But you whined, wanting more from him. “Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.” Krennic had, many a time. Which is one of the reasons you wanted to do this, because he might feel a little better if you were doing it right. Clearly you were in the wrong ballpark. You thought about nodding in admittance, but thought maybe continuing to be playful would get you what you wanted. “Don’t think you did – maybe you did. You should remind me.” “Oh, I think I will.” His smirk was back as you let him run his hands through the fastenings of the tunic and unzip your pants. Oh, yeah, he wanted this uniform off bad. You bit your lip, “It does look sexy on you though, is it surprising everyone wants to copy it? I mean I like trying it on and taking it off.” Orson nipped your neck, eliciting a gasp from you; “Evidently I might too.” Then he chuckled at your sigh, running his hands over your warm skin, “That doesn’t make me hate today any less. I mean it’s hardly tribute, is it?” You tipped your head, “I mean, I tried.” “Oh, don’t think I didn’t hear that mocking tone.” He grazed his lips to yours, and it was hardly rewarding, you pined for more but he held you away from him – still immobilized against the wall, “Still, I’ll admit so much… you do look very pretty in white.” You did very nearly blush, but knew that his mind wouldn’t be going to something as virtuous as weddings or dresses; probably a different kind of white lace altogether. “Can I keep the cape at least?” Maybe he’d enjoy you wearing that and very little else. That would be like a ‘sexy’ Halloween costume, would it not? Even if it was just for him. Maybe that’s what Krennic needed if he detested today so much. He growled, kissing you again before you let him slide the jacket from your shoulders and it fell to the floor; “If you’re good, we’ll see.”

--- Thank you very much for reading! It’s been a while since Krennic has been posted too, I’ll admit! 🙏❤

2/16 down!

[casual-eumetazoa]

9 and 33, please

9. How did you come out? If you didn’t come out, why do you stay in the closet? Or what happened when you were outed?

i’m watching “Bob and Rose” (haven’t finished yet but highly recommend already, RTD is a good writer,,,,,) and it had a really great moment in it so ima paraphrase from that - “coming out is not a singular event, it happens every day”

it’s even more true i think for a trans person who is not stealth and who hasn’t been able to change legal documents, like me. generally speaking, i pass as a man when i actually see people face-to-face or talk to them on the phone, but my passport photo looks nothing like me and i still have to sign a female name on documents and see it in my uni’s online registry and all that

so coming out happens basically every time i encounter someone who looks at my documents, or any prof that teaches me in uni, or any person i talk to on a dating app... it never really stops

the first people i ever came out as trans to were my friends online, then my parents, then my extended family one by one. with my parents, we just had a talk, and it was calm enough (no tears no shouting or whatever) but it took them a very long time to deal with it and stop misgendering me. we are very much on the same page now but really it took years. it was actually much easier with my grandparents even though my parents were super worried about that. like, my granddad literally just told me “oh i’ve known since you were ain preschool” when i came out as trans and did not misgender me even once, ever, and made active effort to show how much he supported me. yeah.

after family it was classmates in uni (i wrote a facebook post and it remained as an ms word draft on my desktop for weeks before i got brave enough to actually post it). then it was my profs - i was super worried about that as well but i never had an outright negative experience at uni. some people, especially older ones, were quite confused, but for the most part i did not have a lot of problems. it’s much worse on the administrative side of it, but professors are generally progressive and accepting. 

and it really just never stops. i have to explain being trans to every new prof and to people at the immigration office or even like random people who ever check my documents like when buying cinema tickets with a student discount. you just never really stop coming out as a trans person, unless you are 100% stealth which i have no interest in doing

it can be incredibly annoying and exhausting and even potentially dangerous at times but i also think it is a great character test with every person you encounter. cause if i come out to someone and they go iffy about it for me that’s an immediate warning signal and then i know i should watch myself around them. i’d rather have that explicit, unambiguous reaction than try to guess whether or not they can tell. so yeah, coming out constantly is tedious but it has its uses

33. What trans issue are you most passionate about?

very easy question for me, it’s definitely access to means of transitioning. mainly by this i mean access to medical stuff like hormone replacement therapy and surgery but i do think that stuff like clothes, binders, makeup, and so on are also very important, though luckily not as strongly gatekept as medical interventions

for me testosterone literally saved my life, waiting for testosterone felt like waiting for my life to finally start after many years of fuck knows what sort of miserable existence, and i am incredibly grateful and happy that i had access to it. to get to hormone replacement therapy, i had to spend probably like a thousand dollars at least on psychotherapy, psychiatrist visits, endocrinologist visits, and every test imaginable from brain EKG and MRI to genetic karyotype testing, and for my family that was an incredibly significant amount that had to be taken out of emergency savings

i think in my case the delay between my first psychiatrist visit and starting testosterone (which was about six months) was actually helpful and i am glad i waited, however i feel like me being autistic and needing a lot of time to prepare for changes was the reason, and for most people even that long would probably be torture. and it was difficult, don’t get me wrong, i just think i did actually need therapy and waiting time to be okay. but the waiting times that people e.g. in the UK go through? with several years on waiting lists with no ability to speed it up in any way? that’s a horrible disgrace and it hurts me immensely to think what it would have been like to wait three years for testosterone instead of six months

the scientific and medical consensus is clear and simple - transitioning saves lives. it is an incredibly effective intervention, actually more effective than something like CBT (which is considered one of the most useful tools in mental healthcare), and the rates of regret are incredibly low and mainly due to pushback from family and society rather than genuine mistake. so i feel very strongly about the importance of access to medical transition and transition in general because it is very often literally a question of life or death

[xyliane]

AU-gust 2: college au

PROMPT THE SECOND: COLLEGE AU (one of these days I’m actually going to draft a story out of my own tales of undergrad into chaos, mayhem, and jumping out of windows cuz the class was boring. instead today, you get the aftereffects of being a TA and also seeing this post on twitter and jumping a few dozen steps to the right. hxh again, zushi pov)

0o0o0o0o0o

It’s 3am, Zushi has a paper due in the morning, and he is bouncing impatiently from foot to foot outside of the RA’s door in shorts and an old shirt that should have fallen apart months ago. It’s not fair, really. He could have had this done days ago, all he needs is the translation for some final key conclusions, but his partner on the Artomatic forums fell off the map, Professor Palm absolutely refuses to help, and Zushi still doesn’t read Greek in any form, let alone whatever form of it is going on in this tome he’d scavenged out of the dusty corners of the old art wing library.

Zushi’s an engineering major. He has a whole internship lined up after this, working with Wing and Dr. Krueger on practical applications of Da Vinci’s wing sketches. This art class is the last humanities section he ever needs to take. Why does he need ancient Greek just to understand a fresco made thousands of years ago depicting a bunch of naked people breaking vases--

He pounds on the RA’s door again, just as the flimsy wood creaks open. Killua, to no surprise, is still awake, white hair casually tousled and blue eyes a little red from whatever he’s using to stay conscious. He looks like any other time Zushi’s seen him, save for the chocorobo-print pajamas. He blinks a little, like he’s not used to looking up at someone taller than him. “Oh, hey Zushi. What’s up?”

Zushi all but launches the tome at Killua (and it is a tome, leather-bound and heavy as a whole weightlifting rack and smelling of dead dust). The RA catches it in his chest with an oomph fuck. “I heard you...” Killua raises an eyebrow, and Zushi swallows heavily. “I heard you can read ancient Greek?” he asks the chocorobos covering Killua’s knees.

When he doesn’t get an immediate response, Zushi knows he’s screwed. He’ll take the F on the term paper, the absolute mess it will do to his overall GPA, Wing will just look disappointed--

And Killua lets out a little chuckle. “Haven’t got that in awhile. You bring your phone?” At Zushi’s stare, he adds, a little sharper, “For the translation.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Killua sighs, and steps into his room as though expecting Zushi to follow. They’re friends, Zushi thinks, or at least friendly--Killua’s a good RA as far as making sure everyone’s forms are in on time and not enforcing the rules when he thinks they don’t make sense. But he’s never been in here before.

It looks like any other single, but with a private bath. Maybe a little neater than most, a teetering tower of textbooks threatening to consume most of the desk. Zushi doesn’t know what he expected.

Fortunately, Zushi has had the fresco’s page marked for ages now, so it’s easy to find and point out the troublesome scrawl. At the sight, Killua seems to brighten, some of the everpresent uni student exhaustion lifting as he traces a finger along the photocopied brushstrokes. He looks absolutely thrilled at whatever it is he’s found, words boxy and stark against the naturalistic forms.

Zushi coughs a little too loudly, and Killua’s head snaps up, white curls bouncing a little. He grins a little sheepishly. “Where did you find this?” he asks. “When I was--I know some people who would kill for a look at this.”

Killua’s previous major is a source of much debate amongst the freshmen--what gives someone fluency in at least three languages, a solid basis in at least calc 3, and way too many opinions about world leaders?--but Zushi doesn’t care right now. He just wants to get this done. “Can you read it?” he asks. “Please?”

Killua shrugs. “Sure, as long as I can borrow this when you’re done. Pronunciation first.”

And Killua begins to read. Zushi has no idea what he’s saying, but the words seem to flow musically, one into the other, until it’s hard to tell if Killua is reading or singing. When the phrases finish, they don’t so much end as echo, vibrating around the shabby college dorm as though aching to sink in and create a place worthy of their sound.

Zushi doesn’t realize he’s stopped breathing until Killua takes a deep breath himself. He’s pale, paler than usual, and his hands are white-knuckled around the edges of the pages. “Well. That was...” He glances up, seeming to remember Zushi is there, and rolls out his shoulders. “Now, to translate--”

And the ground erupts in light.

When Zushi’s eyes clear, it’s still nighttime, but he’s laying on well-used cobblestone, and an infinite array of stars stretches out in front of his eyes. He doesn’t remember laying down. He doesn’t remember the outside. And he certainly doesn’t remember such colorful statues towering overhead, not unless you count Captain Biggs’s much-defaced figure outside of the gym.

A brown-skinned young man with wind-swept black hair stares at him, brown eyes dancing as he yells something across the stone--a plaza maybe? a courtyard?

By the time the young man’s helped Zushi sit up and offered a small sip of what tastes like wine, Killua’s back, now dressed in something out of a toga party with a smile practically splitting his face, wider and wilder than Zushi has ever seen. “Cool, you made it. Did you know you found one of the last remaining active frescoes? Because I didn’t, and if I had I wouldn’t have read it out loud.”

Zushi shakes his head. “I don’t read Greek,” he says.

Killua says, “You’d better get good quick. We’re in Athens until our friend here--” The young man says something, voice a question even if his expression is still laughing, and Killua shakes his head. “--Gon, can help us find the original.”

“The original...”

Killua kicks him gently with a bare foot. “You’re an engineering major. You’re not that stupid.”

Zushi can all but feel the wheels creaking in his head, splitting away from logic and reforming into some new, illogical, impossible set of gears. “Th-that’s not--we’re in Greece???”

“Circa 4th or 5th century BCE, if I’m getting my dates right,” Killua agrees cheerfully. He holds out a hand and tugs Gon to his feet, their grip and Killua’s eyes lingering just a little too long before offering the same to Zushi.

Zushi takes a few deep breaths, then one more for good measure. He can deal with this. He’s shit at language, but this is a problem, and there will be a solution, and he will find it before he has to turn in that miserable paper.

“Okay,” he says, and lets Killua help him up. “Okay. And your new boyfriend will get me clothes, too?”

Killua’s grin turns smug in a way that Zushi really, really does not want to know. “When in Rome, right?”

“We’re in ancient Greece!” Zushi squawks.

(AUgust prompts)

[gffa]

(1/2) Thank you so much. I don't want to usurp any more of your time, I just wanted to let you know you helped a lot. Especially about allowing myself to be hurt. I will read it several more times because there's a lot of good advice and you have a lot more experience than I do. That's part of the problem, Tumblr is closer to my sensibilities but I don't have time to be a regular and it's easier on reddit to just jump in. But I failed to find a way to handle it. I always make sure to discuss

(2/2) opinions and content, not the person. I can honestly say I have never resorted to insults or comments about personality. I DID say the book is "sexist garbage" which was too aggressive as you put it, but it was my own post and not aimed at anyone and it was buried among 2,000 other words, and 15 other books I talked about, and I've been especially upset about sexism lately. I wanted something like "You are wrong, here is why" but instead got called names and insulted relentlessly. -D.L.

You’re not usurping any of my time!  Especially since this is a subject I’ve given a lot of thought, so of course I have Things To Say (which is not to be conflated with how I think everyone has to handle it my way, more that I want to explain what worked for me and maybe it’ll help some others into figuring out what will work for them) and thus I’m always interested in talking about it, even if sometimes my 12 Hours Of Sleep Per Day Because Depression Naps Are Cool gets in the way.  ^_~ If it helps, look at the way these people have flown off the handle by you stating your opinion on a book that wasn’t even aimed at anyone--think about what kind of person does that?  Is it a person who is friendly, who is willing to agree to disagree, is it someone who prioritizes real people’s feelings over opinions on fictional stories?  If not, that’s not someone who is ultimately worth your time.  This is much easier said than done, it’s still going to sting when they behave terribly, you should absolutely allow yourself the room to be hurt for awhile and not feel like you have to immediately get over it, it’s normal to be hurt by these things!  But when you have some distance, think about whether or not this is someone’s opinion that you actually do value, especially if they’re that angry over someone else’s opinion on a fictional thing. That’s something I think about a lot, personally, and there are a lot of people who wrote things that really stung me but I got over it because, if me loving something or disliking something really bothers someone else that much, if an opinion on a fictional story is enough to get them in a twist when it wasn’t about them at all, then that’s their shit to deal with, not mine.  I’ve got limited time/energy and I’m going to spend it yelling about what I want to yell about, whatever form that takes.  If I want to yell about the shitty experiences I had, then I’ll do that.  If I want to yell about how much I love the Jedi or the prequels, then I’ll do that.  If I want to make dumb jokes about Obi-Wan literally being perfect, then I’ll do that.  It’s about me and what I want to do, what will make my space on the internet something I enjoy looking back on. For example--do you ever go back and reread your own posts on reddit?  Go through your profile and enjoy going over what you’ve posted there?  I do that all the time on my tumblr blog, because I love the blog I’ve created here, whether it’s a salty post or a meta post or a love explosion post.  Create the content you want to reread, write the response you want to have written a month from now, when you look back and can go, “Yes, that’s the response I’m glad I made.”, and I hope that you’ll find that, bit by bit, you’ll be happier in fandom, you’ll be able to find the people you want to talk to, you’ll be able to crawl out of the pit of frustration and upset that this kind of situation puts you in. If that means firing back, if that means doubling down on posting your opinions again, if that means walking away, if that means turning towards the things you love, whatever that looks like for you, make it about building a base for yourself and finding places to retreat to when you need, and remembering that people often care more about whether you like something or dislike something than if you treat a real person with compassion.  And they’re not worth your time for that. (And I would gently encourage being a casual tumblr user more, if that’s what you like.  I spend more time here than elsewhere, but I do think you can jump in whenever you want.  Like, most people don’t use tumblr for longform essays the way I often do, but, eh, I’m gonna do tumblr my way.  Nothing to say you can’t do the same, that you log in when you feel like it and jump in even if you haven’t been here for a week or a month or whatever.  I have people on my dash that do the same and they jump right in just fine, I would welcome you to do the same.  ♥) (And, you know, feel free to talk about your experiences.  If you don’t want to post it, you can always write something up, save it to a draft, let it hang there for a couple of days before you decide, and then figure out if you want to post it.  But talking about it in the first place can often help!)

[seldnei]

taking stock of 2020

For any new followers: this is my annual post about my writing in the past year.  This is purely for my own mental health--the tag says “seldnei is tired of feeling like a slacker” for a reason.  Please feel free to skip.

Okay, so what did I accomplish in 2020?

Well, first note: I AM ALIVE AND EVERYTHING ELSE IS FUCKING ICING.

In 2019 I was having issues getting my shit together.  I had literally just started feeling like I had my feet under me when Covid hit, and … I dunno.  Pandemic brain was an issue, but also I re-evaluated what I feel makes me “successful.” In general, writing-career-wise, I feel pretty happy with where I am.  Sure, I’d like to publish more, and of course I’d love to be able to afford to write full-time, but if I died (which was a scarily plausible idea this year) I don’t think I’d have very many regrets in that area.

BUT. My idea of “success” does have to do with doing the work.  Maybe I won’t become a NYT bestseller, but my self-image as a writer depends on actually writing things and finishing them, and that did not happen as much as I wanted it to this year.  There are, absolutely, legitimate reasons for that.  I’m trying very hard not to beat myself up over it.  

I did do some things.  Sometimes it was like pulling teeth, but I did do some things.

The Novel:

Oh, man, this is the thing I did not do.  I just … stopped querying agents   entirely.  And unlike my decision re: short stories (see below), this was not a conscious choice on my part.  I just didn’t do it. I think it just became Too Much to be sending queries into the ether when I was     also wondering if I was going to catch this virus/trying to pivot my day job to remote work/dealing with Z’s online school.

I did do the query letter class on Reedsy, which was pretty good.

I’m not sure what I want to do with the book.  I feel very stuck.  One thing I’m considering is scraping some cash together for an editing pass from a freelance editor, just to see if the whole thing really sucks or if it’s just my brain being overwhelmed.  

Not sure how my feelings about my career (above) fit into this, either.  It is a big tangle in my brain at the moment.

Short Stories

I specifically decided in … February?  March?  Just before lockdown, anyway … that I would spend 2020 focusing on writing rather than submitting (the exception to this was FUCKIT).  So not many submissions went out last year.  I also didn’t get as many stories drafted or revised as I’d hoped, but whatever.

I finished a Teachouts story—with camels!—and tried outlining for the first time, which went pretty well.  It’s another long one, and needs revising, but I like it a lot.  I got to watch a lot of camel videos for it, and research the camel corps (the US military looked into using camels instead of donkeys/mules in the southwest).

I wrote a self-indulgent ghost story and put it on the blog.

I also wrote an Orpheus/Eurydice story for FUCKIT that I think of as “trailer trash Eurydice,” because I imagine her telling him the story in their tiny little trailer that they’ve got illegally parked in the mountains somewhere.

“Primary Manifestations” came out in October in Stories We Tell After Midnight vol 2. Upon reading it in print, I immediately found a giant continuity error that I, two betas, and the editor all missed.  Ah, well, such is life.

Miscellany

I wrote 3 poems: “Instructions for Quarantine,”  “Christmas 2020,” and “Stopping by Jolene’s on a Snowy Evening,” which is a mashup of exactly what you think it is.  I keep debating putting it on Tumblr.

I did a reading on Instagram!  And people came!  My mother had to hear me say “fuck,” like, a lot!

Wrote 3 pieces for FUCKIT, and finished a draft of the 4th thing (which is currently resting before revisions).  FUCKIT, by the way, has been one of my two saving graces this year, keeping me writing even when I was lost in pandemic fog.

Journaled all goddamned year; my other saving grace.  I took Fran Wilde’s creative journaling class at the Rambo Academy in January, and started keeping a paper journal again shortly after.  AND HOLY CATS DID I NEED IT.  

Blogged, as per usual.  Actually a bit more than usual, during quarantine.

So. Many. Notes. Indentured servant demons notes. Incremental apocalypse notes. Mad Scientist’s Daughter notes Urban fantasy notes (this one would be a story called “The Curse of the Spider Queen” which is an amazing title, right?).  

Finished two Cat Rambo classes!  And bought 4 more, god help me.

Goals for 2021

Survival

Like, obviously general survival.

Also surviving this grad program while still writing.  I have my writing goals for the first 3-4 months of 2021 mapped out in my planner, and I’m determined.  I am really, really sick of feeling like a slacker—which is why I started these annual reflective posts 5 years ago, so maybe it bodes well.

Revisions

FUCKIT thing

Camel story

Train story (I have editorial comments from a reject for that one)

Start submitting again

Write 1 short story (probably the Spider Queen story)

Sort out the novel stuff

Finish 1 Cat Rambo class

More notes on all the stories!

Update the blog because I just went there for links and, wow, I have some housekeeping to do, yikes.