#editors note: please do not actually go beat up my roommate

[desceros]

someone go beat up @luckycharms1701 for mocking me and my color-coded custom calendar i made for symphony

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART SIX 

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: major marijuana usage!!  Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: say hello to your new potential love interest - he’s cute, no? let’s see how he compares. 

As always, if you see @lantern-inthenight​, tell her thank you for being the very best editor. 

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack​

On Monday it had dusted snow, but tragically, it had happened while you were in class. You hadn’t even known until you were leaving campus and had seen the lightest coating left on some spots of the grass by the treeline. 

When you got back to the apartment, Josh was already there, stirring a huge pot of something on the stove. The room smelled like a restaurant.

“Josh, oh my god, it snowed and I missed it!” you exclaimed, tossing your jacket over the back of the chair. 

He paused what he was doing to look up at you and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I promise that’s not the last time.”

“What are you making?” you asked, padding across the linoleum to peer over his shoulder. 

“Vegetarian chili,” he answered, lifting a wooden spoon to your face. You blew on it for a moment before taking a taste. “It needs something, but I can’t figure out what.”

“I think it’s perfect,” you replied and meant it, suddenly excited to have a bowl of it. 

He hummed at you. “Thanks, but it’ll be a while before it’s done.”

You watched as he swiped the scraps from vegetables from the cutting table into the compost bucket. 

“You want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked. 

You frowned back at him. “I wish I could, but I’ve got a lot of work to do on my presentation. I’m supposed to be reading it to the class in like two days.”

“Alright,” he agreed, just a shade on the solemn side. There was one thing you knew for sure, and it was that there was a lot you would endure to make sure you didn’t have to see him looking sad. 

“I think I can still concentrate on it if I sit with you during a movie.” 

He laughed under his breath at your bargain. “It’s okay, you can work in your room instead if you’d like. Or, you can have the living room and I’ll keep to my bedroom.”

You scowled at him and pointedly replied, “Don’t be stupid, Joshua. Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to work on my paper until dinner time, then we can watch a movie.”

“I’ll take that deal.” He reached out and took your hand, shaking it once in a faux professional manner. 

“But, that means I have to work all night on it tomorrow,” you warned, looking directly into his eyes. 

He just grinned back mischievously. 

+++

“So, what happened?” you prompted, dipping a spoon into a cup of strawberry yogurt. Kate peeked up at you over the rim of her cup, crunching a piece of ice as she set it back down on the cafeteria table. 

You had been expecting Josh to join you for lunch, but you’d gotten a text telling you that he had to bail to work on production stuff and he’d see you later. You had been a bit disappointed, but you had to admit that you envied his dedication. Plus, you had Kate to keep you company. 

She poured more of her Diet Cherry Coke from the bottle into the cup of ice as she talked. “Not much, honestly.” She looked like she was going to continue until her gaze caught on something over your shoulder. 

You were just about to turn your head to find what she was looking at when she spoke again abruptly, making you halt all movement. “Don’t look, but there’s a guy by the vending machine that keeps looking at you.” 

You gave her a surprised look. “Oh, what does he look like?”

“He’s kinda handsome - short blonde hair, probably a little taller than you, a little shorter than me.” She paused, fiddling with the cap of her soda bottle as he snuck peeks at him from across the room. “Okay, quick look.”

You chanced a glance over your shoulder and hummed as you turned back to her. “I think I’ve seen him around. I don’t really know him though,” you stated. “Are you sure he’s not looking at you?”

She huffed amusedly at you. “Pretty sure he’s not.”

“Ooh, speaking of,” you started, reaching out and nabbing one of the waffle fries off of her plate and popping it into your mouth. “Have you been texting Jake?” 

“Not really.” A scarlet-colored smile was forming on her lips. 

“Does that mean yes?” you pressed when you realized that was all the information she was going to give you. 

She shrugged at you, already collecting the remainder of her lunch to toss away with a cheeky look. 

It wasn’t until your last class that you realized where you’d seen that boy before, and embarrassingly, it wasn’t until he was already sitting next to you. 

You glanced over at him, trying not to look too surprised. 

“Hey, do you care if I take this spot today?” he asked, seemingly knowing what your answer would be. You kind of wanted to say no, just to prove him wrong. 

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed sweetly instead. 

“I hope this isn’t weird, but I saw you at Bennie’s party on Saturday and I guess I just wanted to formally introduce myself. I’m Trevor.”

He held out an open palm for you to take, and you cautiously did. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He looked pleased that this was going as smoothly as he had clearly intended - not that he was lacking confidence, but something about his facial posture told you he had expected you to give him a hard time. 

“So, I’m not going to lie, this is partly because you seem to be really good at this class, but would you like to study together sometime? We could maybe get coffee after class.”

You looked at him for a silent beat before replying. “What’s the other part of the reason?”

“You seem nice, and I think you’re very pretty,” he said honestly, giving you a smile. 

You mirrored it back to him with a nod. “Coffee sounds nice.”

+++

You had made it a point to message Kate, telling her exactly where you were and who you were with, and you had texted Josh, telling him you’d be back in a couple of hours. 

Trevor was nice and somewhat funny. He seemed a little intellectually shallow, but you couldn’t actually judge that from an hour and a half long hang out in a coffee shop. 

When you got back to your apartment and checked your phone, you had six messages from Kate. 

Oh i’m kinda shocked

Good for you tho

Is he cuter up close?

Are you guys actually studding

*studying

i’m going to ask around and see if anyone knows anything about him

You snickered to yourself as you were reading them, before quickly typing back, let me know what you find out tomorrow. 

You were greeted by an empty living room and kitchen, but you could see that Josh’s bedroom light was on, so you headed that way as you shedded your extra layers of clothing. 

You knocked on the door frame, though the door was wide open to reveal Josh laying out on his bed with a lit joint between his lips and Penny on his bedside table. Folk music was playing from his laptop in a tinny quality. 

He peeked an eye open at the sound of your entrance, greeting you with a smile. 

“You’re not falling asleep with a lit spliff, are you?” 

“This is my second one,” he replied as if that was supposed to answer your question or quell your concern. “You want some? Or do you want to work on your paper?”

You ran your teeth over your bottom lip. “I finished my paper in class today. My professor gave us the whole period to work on it.”

He perked up then. “I can’t help but notice that wasn’t a no.” And after a pause he finished, “And congratulations - I’m proud of you.”

You gave him an awkward thumbs up that he promptly barked a laugh at.

 “You wanna?”

“I’ve never smoked before,” you reminded him like it might change his mind. 

“C’mere. I’ll help you.” 

You held a finger up at him. “Hang on, I’m going to change. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t want my new sweater to smell like pot, dude.” 

You returned back in your pajamas, still nervous, but now comfy. He patted the spot in front of him on his bed, prompting you to clamber on. Once you were situated, you tugged his comforter over your shoulders from where it was bunched up at the bottom of his bed. 

“Are you good?” he asked. 

You nodded at him, nervous enough that he could sense it. 

“I’m going to shotgun you, okay?” He put his hand on your knee for comfort, and you had to admit that the touch helped ground you. 

“Okay,” you replied quickly. 

“Okay?” he prompted again, looking less convinced. 

“What does shotgun mean?” you whispered like it was a secret, making him giggle into his shoulder. 

“I’m going to blow the smoke into your mouth. Since it’s your first time, I don’t want you to get super high.”

“Oh. Yeah, that wouldn’t be good,” you agreed. 

“Okay, I’m going to take a drag, and you’re going to open your mouth and suck in the smoke when I blow it out.”

You watched him raise the paper to his lips, the cherry turning bright orange as he inhaled. It wasn’t until he leaned forward with a closed mouth that you realized how...intimate the moment was. 

You weren’t positive he wasn’t going to press his lips directly to yours until you opened your mouth and pulled in his exhale. 

“Hold it in a second if you can,” he instructed, his voice a bit deeper from the smoke. 

You did as you were told, grimacing as you exhaled. “It tastes like dirty socks.”

He snorted a laugh, tipping his head back until it was rested against the wall. 

“I’m not sure what I expected though, because it also smells like dirty socks,” you continued, prompting his laughing to continue until he was sighing contentedly. 

“That’s cute,” he said through a grin. “Innocent.”

You could feel your cheeks warming by the second. You rolled your eyes at him playfully. 

“Do you feel anything?” he asked, sitting back up to attend to you. 

You shook your head. “Not really,” you admitted. 

“You wanna try again? You can just take a hit yourself if you want.”

“Actually could you do it again?” you asked, embarrassed, but not enough so that you were willing to do it alone. 

He gave you a grin, lifting the blunt back to his lips, but this time when he leaned forward, the fingers of his right hand found your jawline, pulling you into him too. When he blew the smoke to you, it was just inches from your lips, and this time you drank it in, forcing it deep into your lungs and holding it there. 

It started to hit you moments after you exhaled it - this pleasant, warm feeling. 

“Hang on,” you said excitedly, throwing the blanket off of you as you scrambled to get off the bed. When you returned you had a little speaker and your phone. The playlist that the two of you had collaborated on for cleaning days started playing, and even though he was laying out flat on his bed, you could see his lips turn up into a smile. 

You laid next to him, resting your head on his arm and giving a pleasant sigh. 

“What’s it feel like?” he asked, a rasp behind the words. He lolled his head to the side to look at you. 

“Warm and fuzzy. Kinda like being in love or seeing a really cute kitten. But also kinda like being on a sailboat in the middle of...I don’t know, some European sea. I can’t think of a single one right now if I’m being honest though.”

When you met his eyes, he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Damn, that’s awesome.”

He sat up on his elbow and reached past you to grab something from his nightstand. You were going to look and see what it was, but staring at the little speckles of plaster on his ceiling was suddenly the best thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Do you always wear cologne?” you asked, suddenly unsure if you were talking really slowly or if your brain just couldn’t process the sound on time. 

“Usually.” When you were able to look over at him, he had a bag of Tootsie Pops by his side, one of the sticks hanging out of his mouth. “You want one?”

You agreed by holding out your hand, letting him give you whatever flavor chance had picked for you. 

He had unwrapped it already, which you thanked him for as the flavor of grape hit your tongue. 

“What flavor did you get?” you asked, turning over so you could lay on your stomach, head propped up by your hands. 

“Cherry,” he replied through a smile, opening his mouth to show you after he asked, “Is my tongue red?”

You giggled at him. “Yeah, it definitely is.”

There was a long, comfortable pause, but you were in no state to determine how long it lasted. 

“I went on a date today.” It came out like an admission, despite your efforts to keep the statement casual. 

He had an impressed look on his face ”Oh, yeah? With who?”

He sat up with what looked like some effort until he was sitting cross-legged. You breathed a laugh, casting your eyes to the pendant of his necklace where it rested against his sternum.

“This guy, Trevor.”

The shocked smile he gave you felt a little surreal in your state. “I didn’t know you even knew any other people here.”

“I actually met him today,” you admitted. 

“And you went on a date with him?” And before you could answer, he continued. “How did it go?”

“It wasn’t really a date, per se. We just had coffee,” you informed. “And, actually, I even bought my own. “

He raised his eyebrows at you until you realized he wanted you to answer the other part of his question. 

“Oh, it was okay. I liked him.”

“Was he kind to you?” he asked, keeping his expression level. 

You nodded. “Yeah, he was. He offered to get my coffee, but I didn’t want him to think he was like. Doing me some big favor, you know?”

Josh huffed a laugh. “That sounds about right. Sounds like you.”

“We made plans for him to come over on Thursday and study.”

Josh tossed the stick of his sucker across the room, landing it perfectly in the little trash can by his door. “Would you like me to be gone for that?”

You frowned at nothing in particular. “Two things. One, how did you just make that shot? I can’t even move. And two, no, why would I want you to go?”

He shrugged, popping another sucker into his mouth. “I’m full of surprises, you’ve just gotta stick around.”

“Well, I live here so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” The way you had muttered made him smirk at you. “But no, you obviously don’t have to leave while he’s here. Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t - I don’t know him very well.”

Josh looked up at you through his lashes for a moment. “Then I’ll be here.”

The both of you hung out on his bed for an indiscernible amount of time, and not once did you ever feel less high. You had intended to get up and brush your teeth, but it didn’t happen, and there was nothing you could do about it. Your eyelids started to feel heavier than you could ever remember them being - like something had ahold of your leg and was dragging you down into sleep. 

The last thing you could recall was the sound of Josh’s smoked-out voice, quietly humming along to the chorus of a song and the visualization of the sound behind your eyes, sweeping back and forth between notes. 

[readyourimgaines]

Shayn-- Flirting Over Coffee

“You’re really short and cute and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish it. Are you trying to look mature or something?”

Meets

Character A writes bad pickup lines on Character B’s coffee cup every time B goes into the coffee shop. 

@tony-andonuts​

Shane had been working at the “Grab a Cup Coffee Shop” for two years. He knew he was cliche. A gay drama major from a Midwest state moving to L.A. and working in a coffee shop. He preferred the warmth, the larger and more diverse population was amazing. 

Everyday, for the past month, a short man who didn’t look totally white would come into the shop. Judging by the messenger bag he carries, he was a college student like Shane.

“Usual small black coffee?” Shane smiled. 

“Yes, please.” 

“I don’t know how you do it, buddy. I couldn’t drink black coffee if someone paid me to.” Shane tapped the iPad, following the prompts, to ring the man up. “M’kay. That’s $1.25.” 

The man patted his pockets. “Do you uh… Do you take debit cards for that little?” 

“We do not, but consider this one on the house,” Shane dismissed. 

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know you didn’t. Don’t worry.” Shane took a cup and pen so he could write on the side. 

“You’re the barista that writes the godforsaken pickup lines on my cups, aren’t you?” Ryan smiled. 

“That I am.” Shane wrote on the cup for another few seconds before turning it towards the man. “Today’s is: are you my appendix? Because the feeling you cause in my stomach makes me want to take you out.” 

The man emitted a wheezed giggle. “Have I even told you my name?” 

“You...You have not. But I-” Shane pointed at the name tag on his apron- “am Shane.” 

“I’m Ryan.”

Shane held the cup out for Ryan to fill with a house brew of his choosing. “What do you think then, Ryan?” 

“About what?”

“Me taking you out.” Shane was beaming. 

“You’re serious about that? I thought you were joking around.” Ryan took a sip from his coffee and Shane couldn’t stop himself from laughing. 

“Of course I was serious. I mean, you’re really short and cute, and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish it. Are trying to look mature or something?” Shane didn’t have it in him to be bashful about his spewed confession. 

Ryan blinked a few times as what Shane said started sinking in. He had been ordering black coffee as a lame attempt to impress the barista. Shane thought he was cute?

“When uh… When did you wanna go out?” Ryan finally managed to get out. He cleared his throat after he asked the question. 

“I’ve got a class at noon that gets out at 2:00. I’m free after that.”

Ryan ran his own schedule through his mind. “That should work. I don’t have work today and my next is tomorrow at 9:00.” 

“Oh! Where do you work?” Shane leaned forward on the counter. Ryan thought for a moment about how much such a drastic angle must hurt Shane’s back.

“I’m an intern at BuzzFeed. Not the best pay, but I’m hoping to get a job as a video editor right when I graduate.” Ryan scratched the back of his head.

Shane backed from the counter and opened the mini-fridge to get the milk out for Ryan. “Make your coffee drinkable, Little Guy.” Shane slid the sugar jar so it was beside the half carton of milk. 

“Thank you so fucking much.” Ryan quickly scooped in two of the spoons of brown and added a splash of milk before stirring it in with one of the skinny black straws.

“Two sugars and a half milk,” Shane observed. “Noted. So, does 2:30 work for you? I can pick you up from...wherever?” 

“I can make it easier on you and pick you up from your lecture hall,” Ryan offered. 

“Someone’s thinking with their galaxy brain. The real question, though, is: what do want to do?”

“Wanna watch a movie at my place? I can get snacks-”

“I’m bringing popcorn. I’ve got so much of that shit in my dorm. My roommate's probably sick of the dorm always smelling like popcorn but I’ve been in that room for three years and she’s a freshie so she can fight me.” 

Ryan laughed. “How’d you get dormed with a girl?”

“I’m in the LGBT mostly dorm building. She’s a lesbian and got in a fight with the girl was boarded with, my roommate--he’s bi--moved into his girlfriend’s dorm so I had an open bed,” Shane explained. “Do you not have a class? You’ve been in here for like 20 minutes.”

“I had three classes yesterday, and two tomorrow so I’m supposed to be doing homework today,” Ryan shrugged. 

“Ah...three class days. I don’t miss those even a little bit. You’re a Freshie, then?” 

“Yeah. I graduated high school in the Spring. College is a lot more different than the school guidance counselors made it out to be.” Ryan adjusted the strap of his messenger bag. “So what hall am I picking you up from?”

“You know where Keats is?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you by the front doors at 2:10?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ryan confirmed. He looked around and noticed how dead the place was. “It’s morning, I would have thought it would’ve been more busy.”

“Well, morning classes aren’t until 8:30, actual morning rush isn’t until 9:00 and people trickle in through the day. You just beat everyone else.” Shane filled a cup with coffee after lining the bottom of it with milk and $3 in the cash register. He took a sip. “How’d you get an internship at BuzzFeed if you’re a Freshman?”

Ryan chuckled. “I got amazing recommendations from my English and Computer teachers.”

Shane laughed. “You shouldn’t have any trouble getting hired there for real, then.”

“Yeah… I need to actually graduate college to get an actual position. Maybe I can join the AV Club for practice in editing or some shit.”

The bell over the door jingled and a few half-asleep college kids fumbled their way into the coffee shop. 

“I’ll let you get back to work, Shane.” Ryan smiled again, stepping away from the counter. 

“I’ll see you are 2:10,” Shane reminded. 

“See you then, Legs.”

[thatbangtanbloom]

all that glitters || bts [3]

all that glitters | bangtan

prologue | chapter one|chapter two|chapter three

Characters: Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Reader

AU(s): 1920s!AU, Mafia!AU, Historical!AU

Word Count: 3,255

Late springs in New York always proved to be grueling. Clouds lined the somewhat aesthetic atmosphere, hiding away the rain that would inevitably fall. There were the rainy days, causing havoc on the shabbily remodeled apartment buildings, with water leaking through thin roofs. Children were often inclined to pull daisies from people’s flowerbeds and said flowerbed owners often found themselves yelling at the aforementioned. The busy hustle and bustle meant daylight rising earlier and people leaving for work to get a head start on life, to achieve the American dream that was allegedly promised to those daring enough to take a risk. For many, spring symbolized new beginnings. For many, every cloud had its own silver lining.

Yet, you could not find your silver lining. Your routine, however habitual it may have been, was welcoming. You liked waking up at five in the morning to catch the bus to the nearest train station and then squeeze into the metro for a thirty-minute commute to downtown New York. You liked stopping at Sears and Roebuck to buy yourself a sandwich and spend ten cents on a strawberry milkshake for your lunch before reporting to the Yankees Stadium to catch any practicing players for interviews. You also liked working overtime at your small cubicle, just to make the same amount as your male counterparts. You liked having a routine. Until you no longer did.

Gone were the days of your usual routine, because it seemed that the Bangtan Boys were squeezing themselves into every crevice of your life. You noticed the raven-haired boy lingering near the metro station with glasses over his face at six-fifteen in the morning on Fifth Avenue. It was hard to ignore the blonde haired man in Sears and Roebuck as you ordered your strawberry milkshake when his eyes never left your figure, ignoring the waitress when she asked him what clubhouse sandwich he would like. And when you attempted to leave from work at the later time, there was an impressionable car at the corner with its lights on, that always turned off the moment your head peaked outside.

To put it simply, you did not see a single silver lining.

Taehyung was inclined to think clouds had their own silver linings too, especially with your monogrammed memo pad burning a hole into his freshly imported Guccio Gucci suit. His hair that once was an ash gray was now dyed black, matching his own busy eyebrows to give him a colloquial look. Though, it be in vain, for his features were not common in the hustle and bustle of New York City.. but it would do.

Ever since your little game of cat and mouse began a week ago in the speakeasy, Taehyung has been working around the clock to plan a way to lure you back to the speakeasy. He had dropped hints purposely, leaving a single flower at your desk with a note tied to it in efforts to draw you back. He had considered the idea of having Jungkook do the honors of returning your memopad, but the younger boy was shyer than he would like to admit and time was money. Every action one of the seven members partook in was a building block for the enterprise.

So here he was, arriving at your place of work only ten minutes before your regularly scheduled lunchtime with a single bouquet of flowers in his hand and a blue box dangling between his fingers as he walks over the steps and smiles prettily at the secretary.

“O-oh,” She is awestruck when her eyes fall over his dark alluring eyes and his masculine features. She can barely breathe when she notices how deep he stares into her, almost as though he could stare through her.

Taehyung knows that she is not the first woman to fall privy to his charms, so he does not hesitate for a moment to use them against hers. He had one objective and one objective alone - to get to you and to find out what information that you knew. “Darling,” He purrs and she swears that he is the devil incarnate himself. “My… my doll works here and I wished to surprise her. Her name’s Y/N L/N… Is it possible for me to go up there and visit her, darling?”

“Y-yes. Of course. Y/N? She should be on the third floor…” She stutters as Taehyung nods at her every word. She wonders if all men are able to stare that intensely and keep a platonic gaze. She thinks that he is one of one. “S-she covers the sports column from time to time, so she should be out-”

Taehyung sends her his prized boxy smile and he knows that she is a goner. “Darling, do you know if she is upstairs or not? I would hate to have come all the way to visit my dollface and she is not here…” His tone is sultry as he caresses each syllable of each word with his tongue. “Can I just.. Can I just go up there to see her?”

“O-of course! Let me just write you a small note…” She is absolute putty in his hands. She practically trips over herself writing down your cubicle number and department before batting her lashes up at him. “And if she is not here… feel free to come back and keep me company.”

Taehyung only winks in reply, not giving a verbal confirmation. As beautiful as she was, Taehyung had bigger fish to fry. You were at the top of his list, and he would be damned if he would let you escape him for a second time.

“For the last time, do you think Miller Huggins would let Chick Autry bat over Wally Schang? He is a seasoned player.” You lament with a frown as you sit down across from your editor of the sports column, Calvin Bush. He was three years your senior and biologically male to the point where he felt that it was quintessential to run everything by him first. At times, you questioned if he actually took anything that you said seriously or if he only disagreed with you because you did not have the same biological makeup as him.

Calvin scoffs in response as he rolls up his sleeves, glancing over the New York Times’ sports statistics and shakes his head. “Look, I get it. You’re trying to commit yourself to the big leagues, but do not let a pretty face fool you. Chick Autry is the present. Wally Schang is the past. Do you think that because Schang has more experience that he has more precision? That doesn’t suggest causation.”

“I could say the same for you,” You murmur under your breath as you sit back down in front of your typewriter. You were certain Wally Schang would be played against the Washington Senators before Chick Autry would. Breakout star or not, Schang had the consistency that Autry lacked. “Autry was just recruited a couple of weeks ago. He may have the tenacity and the ambition, but precision is something he lacks. We’ve seen that in how he can only bat with his right.”

He pauses, as though considering your words. He did have a point. While Autry was a top pick, it was news that he was having trouble adjusting from his school league to the Majors. But who was he to let a woman one-up him that much? “Not everyone can be as skilled as Schang..” He ends up conceding, deciding to focus his attention on the way your shoulders look under your blouse. That was one perk of the job. “Say, so you think that we could discuss Schang’s greatness a bit more at Sears?”

“That is exactly what I was saying,” You reply, thinking that Calvin had reached some sense in his head. You do not even notice the hidden meaning of his words. You sigh as you go back to writing your article, being greeted with the Courier font before you hear the clearing of your throat.

“I do not believe I appreciate you staring at my woman that way.” A voice says from in front of you and your eyes furrow.  A bouquet of roses blocks your view of the man who spoke and you frown. You certainly were not anyone’s woman but your own.

Calvin scoffs in reply as he stands up straight to meet the gaze of the taller man. He almost feels intimidated, observing the tweed suit that the unfamiliar man wears and how deep the timbre of his voice is. “I did not know that she was taken.”

“Well now you do.” The voice quips with a slight scoff before the owner of the voice kneels in front of you to place the bouquet of flowers into your arms. “My doll.. Mon chéri, my Y/N… I have missed you so.” He purrs into your ear while sending daggers to Cavin. You immediately recognize that purr from anywhere and you know that it is none other than the silver-haired man from the bar… well, now the black-haired man at the bar.

“I am not taken.” You deadpan before unwrapping Taehyung’s arms from your body before standing up. Your blood runs cold that he has managed to know where your job is… Well, it was not very hard for him, considering that it was the only other address that your roommates, Elizabeth and Margot, had given him. “Please leave.”

Taehyung forces a tight-lipped smile as he notices Calvin’s lingering interest before pulling you into a tight embrace. His chest is warm and welcoming despite his intimidating aura. He pulls you between the small aisle and places a soft kiss to your forehead before whispering softly into your ear, “Would you rather waste your time with bluenose* over here or would you like to get information on that Bangtan Rouge place you’ve been scoping?” His voice is low enough so that only you could hear it and your heart skips a beat at how close he holds you. “You’re not a damsel in distress, but some of them won’t take a hint.”

You hate how well he reasons with you, but you concede with the agreement that he will give you the information that you want. “It sure is the berries*.” You murmur as you pull away from him and force a smile. “Can we talk about this in private?”

“I thought you would never ask, baby.” Taehyung absorbs himself all too quickly into the role as your quarreling lover and passes you the flowers before sending one last glare to Calvin like any self-respecting actor would before grabbing your jacket and placing it onto your shoulders. “Let’s go.”

The atmosphere is tense as Taehyung immediately sits in the corner of the Sears and Roebuck with your memo pad still burning a hole in his pocket. He is smirking at you as though you hold the key to all of his problems, and quite frankly, you do. The elder members of the group had been ridiculing him from letting you get away in the first place when he had the largest window of opportunity of bumping you off*.

“You promised to tell me about Bangtan Rouge.” You grumble after you have taken three half-hearted bites into your club sandwich. It was unsettling that Taehyung had paid for you when you knew that you were a fully autonomous woman. Sure, it was 1924, but you would be damned by letting this man upend your life without lifting a snap of his figure.

Taehyung smirks, his red lips contouring into the perfect arch to display his amusement. “I did promise to tell you about Bangtan Rouge, but I think that it is necessary that you tell me first what you know. Would it not be a drag if I just rattled off everything that I know?”

“I think you are pulling my leg here.” You retort with another bite of your sandwich. You glance out to the window, noticing the way that the school children begin to file their way in, immediately running to the candy machines to deposit nickels and dimes to attain sugary euphoria. You wish that Taehyung was that easy to satisfy. “Why would we beat around the bush? I am well aware that you came here to ask me what I know, and the truth is, I know nothing.”

Taehyung scoffs as he leans back into the faux leather suits. He looks like a million dollars, seemingly out of place in the small time diner. You notice how his eyes soften at the sight of the kids playing so happily and you almost forget that he is a complete stranger to you who quite possibly has your very existence’s timeline in his hands. “Then you would not mind telling that to my Boss.”

“Your Boss?” You nearly scoff in reply at the idea of meeting someone who one openly referred to as ‘Boss’. That was the classic signature for mafia talk. The very last person that you wished to meet was Boss.

Taehyung smirks before he eyes your sandwich and slides the small ceramic plate in front of him to take an eager bite before letting his arm relax on the back arm rest. “Yes. Don’t worry, we have no intentions of making you a moll*.”  

“Moll?” You yelp in surprise before Taehyung leans forward to cover your mouth with his hand to silence you. The very idea of being called one shook you to your core and you could not even fathom such things. “I am not and nor will I ever--”

Taehyung finds it amusing to see you freak out in such a way. To put it simply, he thought of you as the cat’s meow. He did not know many women who were not as entangled in life in the underground as you, but he did know a self-respecting girl when he saw one. It was not to say that he did not respect the women he often frequented with, but it was less prominent than how he felt it with you. “You’re a regular sheba*, you know?” He replies with a small grin as his brows wiggle suggestively at the way you eagerly drink your milkshake. “It’s a shame that you witnessed such things. Though, I’ve always wanted a girl with a deadline.”

“I am not that girl.” You retort as you force yourself to look away from Taehyung and his evident prowess. Something about him was overwhelming, and you are unsure if it is his attractiveness or his level of conceitedness.  “I am only a girl who wants to be the head editor and bring back the Times to where it should be. If you are not going to give me the information that I desire or patronize me, do not waste my time.” You reply before putting down your milkshake and forking out a couple bills onto the table.

Taehyung chokes on the sandwich at the sudden statement, “I beg your pardon?”

“I do not know who you are, nor what you are capable of… but I will not let that deter me.” You reply adamantly before you swallow your courage and force yourself to walk around the booth and kneel over him. “All my life, men have tried telling me what to do, when to get married, who to marry, how many children I should have, and practically dictate my entire life without my say in it. You will not be one of those men.”

And Taehyung sits there, utterly gobsmacked and surprised that you had the courage to speak to him that way when your fate is dictated by a mere tug of a string from his hands. Yet, he finds himself all the more intrigued in you. It is almost instantaneous, as he watches you leave the Sears and Roebuck and cross the street fiercely through the crowd of businessman and schoolchildren. He almost thinks you look like something off a silver screen, a modern-day woman. And if he did not realize it before, he definitely knows that he will not let you go anywhere now.

The rest of your day remains uneventful as you go through the motions of listening out the latest statistics of the New York Yankees in your all-too familiar best friend of Courier Font until the lights outside have begun to grow dark. You are left even more unsatisfied as you hear the dewdrops crash against the glass window, distorting your margins and forcing you to groan when you have to start over every so often because of your perfectionist tendencies. You curse yourself, knowing that you would have to run to the subway to try to avoid getting pneumonia, much less in the dark.  You had been warned many times about leaving so late, especially alone, but you were a strong woman. A couple years in Chicago had taught you what it meant to grow tough after leaving your original small town.

Though, you are more surprised to find someone waiting for you when you leave the building with a dimpled smile and an umbrella in his hands. You do not recognize him from anywhere, but you can not help but grow weary as you think back to Taehyung’s statement of you needing to meet his boss. Had this been him?

“Y/N L/N?” His voice is softer than you expect, matching the gentle tone of his voice as his deep brown eyes meet yours. You immediately wreck your brain to try to remember him seeing from before but draw nothing.

You swallow hard before nodding slowly. “That would be me, but who is asking?” You ask, a bit nervous to hear his reply.

“Someone who you will be knowing well in the future.” He says with a soft chuckle, as though he has told you the most charming joke in the world before he hands you a small, beige packaged envelope and the umbrella. “I believe this is something that belongs to you, but I have conditions. Review them and get back to me in three days if you want it to be worth your while.”

You do not even have to open it to know what is inside as you awkwardly hold the umbrella in your hand. You are no longer the one being drenched in water, but now it is him, standing six feet tall with his beige trench coat. He looks like he stepped out of a silver screen film. “I do not wish to have any part in this.”

“It is not a choice.” He replies with a smirk on his face before shaking his head. His voice is sweet like velvet, sickeningly sweet to the point where you question if it is stable to have such thoughts cross your mind. “Do you think that we chose this? It chooses you.. And, you, my lovely butterfly, are our latest addition.”

And that was the last words he spoke to you before climbing into his car and disappearing into the night. You almost wish that you would have been alone until you open up the envelope slowly to look into its contents - your lovely monogrammed memopad with a single note attached to it.

Even angels come down to play with demons at times.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

1920s Decade Specific Terms:

Bluenose - prude

Berries - something that is attractive of pleasing

To bump off - to murder

Moll - a gangster’s girl

Sheba - a woman with sex appeal

- - - - - - - -

Don’t be a silent reader! Feel free to send your reactions! :) 

[stylinsonlibrary]

JEALOUS HARRY FIC REC

Always make sure to read all tags/warnings/author’s notes before reading!

Now That It’s Over (8k)

“What are the odds we would both be at Mariano’s on a Thursday night?”

Louis’ shoulders tensed. What the hell was he doing here?

“Harry? Hi? The odds are pretty crazy, yeah.”

Harry smiled down at Louis the way he used to, but there was also a glint in his eye that Louis absolutely did not like. Harry was also dressed in his favorite black and white striped women’s jeans and a printed shirt only he would ever be able to pull off. It was quite rude of him to come and interrupt Louis, particularly while looking so good. Louis hadn’t seen him since he’d finished moving his shit out of what was once their shared flat, so this being the first time seeing him wasn’t exactly providence in Louis’ mind.

Or the one where Harry and Louis broke up two months ago, and Harry just might be sabotaging Louis’ dates.

Forever, Uninterrupted (8k)

Harry finds a mysterious picture in Louis’ bag one night and drives himself crazy over it. It’s definitely not what he thinks.

can’t go without you anymore (10k)

Harry Styles was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. This was award season. He wasn’t even nominated for anything, still everyone wanted a piece of him. But Harry was lonely. And a stressed and lonely Harry did no one good. What if one night his friends and his manager just ran into the most fitting boy for their friend? And what if maybe they set him up as Harry Styles personal assistant. It already sounds like the beginning of a disaster.

or Personal Assistant Louis Tomlinson is going to be the end of actor Harry Styles. This was a given.

We Can Be Greater (10k)

Louis, Harry, Zayn, Niall, and Liam, were simply five run away teens, desperately seeking a safe haven from their foster home. When they discovered an abandoned building, they entered it, their lives ceased to remain the same because they entered upon a different realm. A new universe, one in which they were superheroes.

The moment they reached this new world, they were desperately needed to defeat a villain; sounds cool right? Except they had no clue of their powers, this new world, the villain, or how to get back home. This is the story of how five outcasts turned from hooligans into heroes.

See Clearly Now (11k)

“My eyes are up here.”

What? Was— was Louis flirting with him?

Harry looked up — much too slowly, probably — and saw Louis watching him, his mouth quirked up on one side, a grin threatening to steal the pretty curve of his mouth.

“What?” Harry squeaked.

Louis put his hands on his hips, almost challenging Harry to look again, “I said...my eyes are up here.”

Harry felt something electric pass between them. He felt the need to take a step forward, call Louis’ bluff, see if he was more bark than bite.

Biting sounded really fun right about now.

OR a five-times fic where two guys, one college dorm room and a faulty door lead to a few embarrassing situations and finding out more about themselves and each other than they ever bargained for.

No One Else Will Do (13k)

Harry visibly takes a deep breath. “I’ll do it. I’ll…help you through your heat.” He looks more determined now as he stands up straighter and his eyes look at Louis more intensely.

“Yeah?” Louis doesn’t mean to sound so surprised but he’s sort of in a state of shock. He’s never been with an alpha before, and the fact that his first time is going to be with Harry— his best friend— well, he couldn’t really ask for anyone better if he’s honest.

It takes Louis’ early heat for Harry and Louis to figure things out.

End of the World Tonight (12k)

“You remember when you told me that you wanted to live with me for the rest of your life?” Louis asks. His voice trembles a bit, exposing exactly how much he hates what he’s about to do. How much he wishes that he wasn’t about to do it.

“I remember,” Harry says. His expression is a little lost, like he thinks that they’re about to have a fight and he’s not sure what they’re supposed to be fighting about. Louis closes his eyes because he has to, has to take a second to regain his courage. He can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep suffering, can’t keep killing himself trying to hide this. He’s ready. He’s been ready for a long time.

one more for the stars (16k)

It's different, and Louis knows that, because Harry's got so much riding on this - a career and a future and his whole life. There's talk of him going first overall in the draft, of entering the NFL after only two years in college, of going to New York or Seattle or Green Bay, and Louis wants to be there for him, wants to support him and help him make decisions, but he also kind of wants to pin him to the bed and cry and scream, What about me what about me what about me?

(au. Harry's the star quarterback and Louis is about to graduate. It's a heartbreak waiting to happen.)

ain't going backwards, won't ask for space. (17k)

They've been best friends for eight years, but have never acted on the sexual tension that's existed between them. And when they do, it's completely impossible to stop the feelings that arise from denying themselves of what was always meant to be.

or the one where two idiots fall in love after years of being just best friends.

kiwi (24k)

With a stuttered mixture of a laugh and a groan, Harry lets his head droop, pushes his forehead against Louis’ chest and leans into him, fingers curled around the railing.

"You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes.

Louis lets out a puff of laughter, and when Harry lifts his eyes, the look in Louis’ gaze is one he knows too well, so distinctively coy and mischievous and gently charming, his lips quirked up with a smirk. Harry’s heart falls into the palms of his playful hands. “You’re into it.”

AU. Harry plays on Saturday nights at The Motley. Louis bartends on Saturday nights at The Motley.

It’s a thing.

Counting The Steps Between Us (24k)

AU. So, yeah. That year abroad helped Harry establish that he is in love with his best friend. Now, if Louis would stop treating him like a little brother, that would be awesome. (Additional ingredients: a collapsing tree house, a lot of pining, the other three boys as Louis' new best mates from university, and a camping trip. Serve hot.)

everything comes back to you (29k)

Louis lets out a shuddering breath. “I love you,” he says.

“Fuck you,” Harry replies.

“You know that I’ve always loved you,” Louis continues, not stopping to acknowledge what Harry’s said.

Harry shakes his head. “I know, but sometimes I wonder if that ever went past us just growing up together. We were never apart Louis, never for so many years, and the minute we were you just left me. So sometimes, when I let myself think about it, I think maybe that’s why we don’t work. You were just so used to loving me because you didn’t know anything else.”

Louis and Harry, best friends since before either of them can remember, broke up four years ago. Louis has achieved his dreams of becoming the next big thing while Harry has stayed back, dedicating himself to his studies. Both are content to forget what they had together, until a tragedy brings them right back into each other's lives.

Show me wealth, I’ll show your heart (30k)

Harry knows the value of money. He knows how to negotiate numbers, knows its worth in engines, and knows the amount he needs to secure for his business. What he didn’t know was that, if spent wisely, money is the one thing he really doesn’t need.

Or AU where Harry has more money than he can handle, Louis can’t handle not having any, and they both find out the greatest wealth isn’t countable.

the beginning of everything (30k)

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

You’re the Light (31k)

Before beginning a new graduate school in the fall, Louis Tomlinson decides to spend the summer working in Chicago as an editor’s assistant for the Chicago Tribune newspaper and staying with his old college roommate. What he finds on his first day of work is a tall, gorgeous editor named Harry who has the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen—and who also happens to be his new boss.

Follow Your Heart (32k)

“What do you mean exactly?” Harry asks. Louis’ heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. His stomach is sinking, and he’s holding his breath waiting for the words he knows are coming.

“We think it would be best to market you guys as a couple,” Simon tells them. The tone in his voice makes Louis think there’s no wiggle room to even try to argue about it.

Louis’ heart stops and his breath hitches. This cannot be happening. This has to be some sort of dream. Actually this has to be some sort of prank, really. He absentmindedly looks around the room for any evidence of hidden cameras or microphones to no avail.

“You’re kidding,” Louis says flatly. Louis is pretty sure a lot of the music industry these days likes to hide the fact that an artist isn’t straight, afraid that it might affect record sales and now he’s sitting in the middle of an executive label meeting being told he had to be in a relationship with his best friend–who’s a boy he’s been secretly in love with for most of his adolescence–in order to sell records? What kind of alternate universe level bullshit is he living in?

(your heartbeat) rang true inside my bones (32k)

Harry goes as Louis’ date for a weekend wedding. He ends up taking the role a bit too seriously.

“Hey,” Harry hears himself say just as Louis climbs back into the car. He ducks down, holding onto the roof to look at Louis who cocks his brow at him and says, “What?”

“I meant it,” Harry starts. “Like, I’d do it. I’d be your date for the wedding. If it’d make you feel less awful about being there and if you want me to, I’ll do it. I promise I’ll be good.”

you burn with the brightest flame (42k)

Harry frowns, thinking that he shouldn’t have to be glad about what gender he is, just like omegas shouldn’t have to be scared and nervous that anyone they meet might want to hurt them. He wonders why none of this occurred to him before, how he possibly could’ve just sailed through life before this without realizing how fortunate he was being born a beta. That seems a bit too serious of a conversation for Simon Cowell’s waiting room, though, so Harry puts an arm around Louis’s shoulders and teases, “You say that like you’re old or something. Two years isn’t that big of a difference!”

“Tell me that when you’re eighteen and looking back on this conversation,” Louis says.

“Well that’s - that’s different, isn’t it? We could be anywhere in two years, we could be famous.”

Louis’s eyes light up, his smile widening. “You think so?”

…or, the X-Factor Era A/B/O fic.

Cupid’s Chokehold (35k)

But - naively, stupidly, blindly - Harry holds out hope for a love that’s written across the stars. He can’t give up the feeling that there’s someone out there, waiting for him.

He’s just going to have to wait for them, too.

Or: Louis is a Cupid who tries to match up Niall and Harry. It doesn’t work out as planned.

Wonderwall (43k)

Taking the sheet cluttered with times available for the next few weeks, Louis notices a pattern in the list. The name of the person Perrie had just mentioned: Harry Styles. It’s written at least seven times, and three of which are during timeframes Louis wants.

“Who the fuck is Harry Styles?”

“You’re about to find out,” she answers, pointing over Louis’ shoulder.

Or a Love/Hate College AU where Louis Tomlinson is the lead singer of The Rogue - the most popular band on campus - and Harry Styles is the talented Freshman unknowingly challenging all that.

Let Me Touch You Where Your Heart Aches (46k)

Alcohol was all he could taste. Alcohol and Harry, and he didn’t mind one bit. Harry kissed him back with just as much fervent heat. He pushed Louis against the taxi door and pulled his head back, breathing hot and heavy against his lips. “Let’s go, yes?”

Or a Friends with Benefits AU, in which Louis falls in love and Harry is jealous. There is some Karaoke singing somewhere in there, because how do you write a romantic comedy without a Karaoke scene?

Some Things Take Root (50k)

AU. Louis’ ex doesn’t get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.

Love's On The Line, Is That Your Final Answer? (53k)

Harry can’t believe it when Louis, the boy he’s always had a tempestuous rivalry with, asks him to be his boyfriend. Well, pose as his boyfriend, that is—for a new television game show in which young couples are quizzed on how well they know each other for a jackpot of thirty grand.

Reluctantly, Harry agrees—because he's got student loans to pay off, hasn't he? What's the harm? And he can totally deal with keeping his secret thing for Louis under wraps too. This is all just to win some money. It's fine. No big deal. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, everything. Obviously.

Amazing Sin (56k)

Gears started turning in Louis’ head. Purely mischievous gears that had Louis formulating a revenge plan against Taylor. He’d had enough of sitting around and taking it. If she was going to call him a whore, then fine, he’ll act like one for real. “I’m going to say something, and as my friends you are obligated to love me anyway.”

“This can’t be good,” Niall said, Zayn just groaned.

“So I know we have this strict ‘no lashing back at Taylor�� rule with me, but what if I can get press revenge a different way?” Louis asked. He wasn’t expecting an answer, because they knew by now to just go with it. “What if I stole her boyfriend?”

Or, the story of Louis ‘Steal Your Man’ Tomlinson.

Strawberries & Cigarettes (71k)

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

Pinkies Never Lie (83k)

“I just think if we’re both into it and neither of us is looking for something serious, why not?” Harry asks, eyes soft and voice sweet. He pauses and gives Louis a moment or two to answer.

There are countless reasons why Louis shouldn’t agree to this, but in the end, none of them really matter. This will end with Louis in pieces, but he’s been in love with Harry for four years. There was only ever one answer.

“Yeah,” Louis answers finally, hoping his voice sounds normal. “Why not?”

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

You Drive Me Crazy (but it feels alright) (102k)

Bridget Jones’ Diary AU.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it’s a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

A Taste of Desire (104k)

“As forward as I have been with you this evening, I am also aware this dinner party isn’t the place to conduct business.” Mr. Tomlinson chuckles quietly to himself, shooting a subtle glance across the table towards their hostess. “And besides, I am sure our hostess would be horribly disappointed to learn that we went away this evening with a business agreement and not a mating one.”

Harry, who had been sipping his wine, coughs harshly at this. He splutters, unaccustomed to such blatant statements about mating.

Mr. Tomlinson continues to laugh quietly, clearly pleased at Harry’s reaction.

“Mrs. Humphreys promised that there was an alpha attending the dinner tonight that I would certainly get on well with,” Mr. Tomlinson continues, voice teasing. “She assured me that we would have much in common since we both work with mills.” Mr. Tomlinson glances at Harry, eyes flashing with mirth. “Little did she know that would be where our mutual interests began and ended.”

Or, a Victorian ABO where Harry is the owner of the most successful cotton mill in Manchester, and Louis is an opinionated social activist about to disrupt Harry’s world.

falling into you (143k)

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

He kissed my lips, I taste your mouth (290k)

When Louis moves into the flat next to Harry’s, neither of them thinks it will change their lives. Louis is stuck in a relationship with his controlling and overly possessive boyfriend who he loves too much to break up with. Harry is content, seeking refuge from the snobby world he grew up in and forging a new path for himself. He does happen to have a habit of wanting to fix people though and when he meets Louis, the gorgeous man with a prat of a boyfriend, he finds himself trying to do just that. While Harry tries to avoid getting tangled in a messy situation, Louis tries to deny that there’s a niggling voice in the back of his head that prefers Harry to his own boyfriend. While both determinedly refuse to let change come, they fail to notice that exact force wrapping around them and pulling them tighter together until there just might be no escape from the feelings brewing within.

[afteriwake]

Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper AUs!

So for this round, @equusgirl only asked for the writer/editor one, but I figured I’d do them all and just move that particular one to the top. Enjoy!

who’s the writer and who’s the editor Sherlock is a well-known real crime novelist, covering the more outrageous spectacles in the States for the British publishing house he works for. He enjoys the ability to travel to many locales and especially to do essentially a better job at solving the cases than the United States legal system. Molly is his beleaguered editor who has to take his chicken scratch notes and incorporate them into the typed up manuscripts he tends to deliver to her at three in the morning. Then they hear about a case of a criminal mastermind who had never been able to be caught in England, and Sherlock is fascinated by the case of Jim Moriarty. Molly is a bit worried, though, but Sherlock's actually typing up his notes for this book so she lets her fears slide...though maybe she shouldn't have, when the two of them start receiving strange "gifts." Sherlock has a fan, apparently.

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter Molly is the werewolf and Sherlock is the hunter. Sherlock uses the best of science to try and track down a werewolf to run experiments on, and Molly is his assistant. In the course of the hunt, another werewolf (a man named Moriarty, who takes perverse please in biting people while transformed) bites Molly and she, too, becomes a werewolf...or does she? As her first transformation nears, Sherlock uses his skill at science to find Moriarty and kill him, thereby lifting the curse for her and, possibly, countless others. Also, in my head I imagine this being Victorian era and Moriarty having escaped from an asylum when he was bit.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman Sherlock is the merman with an acute interest in the human world and Molly is a young woman being sent off to an arranged marriage away from the sea she loves dearly, the daughter of a fisherman in the village Sherlock lives near. She's known Sherlock since she was a young child and he slightly older by human years and has loved him with all her heart for a long time, but he's been oblivious to her feelings until he realizes she is often sad. When she tells him of her impending betrothal and her leaving forever, he decides no, she can't go, he can't lose the one person he cares for most, and in doing so steals his brother's trident and brings about a great storm which delays her leaving but also plays havoc with the sea and the coastline, and eventually he relinquishes the trident back to his brother, who uses it to give Sherlock legs so he can be with his human.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar Sherlock is an urban witch in uni, figuring making potions and reciting spells is child's play, but he has no idea he comes from tremendous magical power. His roommates Victor, Jim and Sebastian all join in, and the powers they end up unleashing supposedly drive Jim mad. The only thing keeping Sherlock alive is the tabby cat who's been drawn to his side, saying her name is Molly and a century ago she, too, fought the powers he and his friend have unleashed and with her help she can save all those who want to still be saved...

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict Molly is a caffeine addict with peculiar tastes (for example, six shots espresso and half a cup of cream in a chai spice latte) who catches Sherlock's interest at the cafe he manages and usually makes her drinks personally. He's had it up to here with the creepy and bloody crazy people who frequent the cafe, but she seems nice and normal, aside from her questionable coffee habits. It turns out she's a reporter for a London newspaper and covers the crime beat, and she thinks there's a serial killer going after the local homeless population she relies on for seeing the things other people miss. Sherlock decides that, on the scale of weird things he's dealt with, hunting down a potential serial killer isn't even in the top twenty-five and offers her his help...and unlimited cups of coffee until the case is solved.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA Molly is the professor who was warned that Sherlock Holmes is a prickly bastard that thinks he's smarter than everyone else and is completely insufferable to work with. The name sounds familiar but she doesn't put two and two together until her first day of class...when she comes face to face with the man she shared some cigs with at the local dance club who gave her the best shag of her life but who's name she'd forgotten. Apparently, it's Sherlock Holmes.

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss) Sherlock is the haughty prince who's been cursed by an evil witch into looking like an old man and having to wait at a tri-forked path to direct a seemingly endless amount of knights on a quest. Once the right knight goes down the right path and  passes all the trials, he'll have supposedly learned humility and will get turned back to his rightful form. Of course, this doesn't bode well when most knights choose the wrong path without heeding his words at all and are eaten alive by the dragon at the end of it, and the ones who don’t go down the other wrong path and deal with murderous goblins. But there's a squire who's not quite what she seems and, well, the dragon's asleep and there's a pile of armor that it spit back out, and she has her own horse...maybe she'll listen to reason?

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent Sherlock is the no-nonsense chemistry teacher who couldn't care less about teaching so long as he's allowed to perform experiments of his choosing in peace. If he makes them learning moments then he supposes that's a good thing? But there's a budding genius/fledgling pyromaniac named Timothy Hooper who reminds him a lot of himself at a young age, and after seeing him picked on one time too many he goes to talk to his mum about perhaps expanding Timothy's education beyond science...only to find his mum is his university girlfriend who left quite suddenly, and now that he's thinking about it, Timothy is just about the right age to be...his.

[gendermesenpai-blog]

6:40pm

itjeitjijeijtj

Just finished the new Contrapoints video finally. Really intense. Lots of deep introspective moments. I couldn’t help but compare similarities. Bawled my eyes out when she sang Three Times a Lady at the end. And then switched back into Time Warp and I was crylaughing.

It is a weird subject, the whole AGP thing. I am super glad she pointed out that it doesn’t really actually matter, like it’s kink-shamey yes but also deprives people of agency to say what reasons are ok to be trans and what reasons aren’t. I understood what she meant by saying that the phrase makes her and other trans women uncomfortable because it misrepresents them. I feel like maybe she was too defensive about it though? idk

The degree to which my gender identity is tied into my sexual identity, and the degree to which they overlap and intertwine with each other and are thus generally confusing, makes this difficult to explain. Leading up to my breakdown where I realized I wanted to transition I was watching a lot of feminization hypno videos. I feel ashamed about this and it’s dumb. I think it is partly leftover puritanical bullshit from my mom shaming me about watching porn when I was younger. But also it’s this AGP stigma shit where I’m supposed to be fucking like 100% chaste with no sex drive or I’m not REALTRANS™. 

(editors note: denial by hyperbole! the common alternative to 100% chastity isnt watching weird fetishy transmysognist shit on pornhub. AGP pseudobisexual gender communist confirmed)

But anyway when I watched those videos I definitely felt turned on at the thought of being a woman. Being a woman being fucked by a man. Sometimes videos would pop up in the related or suggested sidebar like “reverse feminization hypno” where it is supposed to turn you masculine again or something. None of this shit actually does anything lol. But every time I saw one of those thumbnails over there I remember being like “no I don’t want that” lmao. I stopped watching hypnos since around the time I began hormones in part because I felt guilty about it, like it was some kind of proof that I’m not actually trans. 

But at one point I was watching them like everyday. I would talk back to the video, it would say like horrible misogynist shit like “you love dick, you need it” or whatever and I would just be like “mm yes.” lmao. Sometimes between all the dick worship it would say shit like “you are not a man anymore, you are a girl now” and I would just be like oh god yes please. I am going to be unraveling all this shit for years. 

Like when I was younger I was like “oh I’m dominant with women and submissive with men.” But when did I ever actually pursue a girl in any kind of dominant way? They always came after me and I was just like oh ok.

(edit: well I guess I did try sometimes but I always felt like I was just fulfilling some sort of bizarre contract I had made with the world, like if I’m going to be alive in the world I am expected to pursue female romantic partners. This is not to say I didn’t want relationships with women or to imply I wanted relationships with men more, although I have never hooked up w anyone from online except guys, but just to say I never really wanted to be in the role of pursuing them and always resented that it was expected of me)

And I always ignored the fact I could often be submissive with women. I just refused to acknowledge I was even doing it lol. I was always like arching my back and moaning all weird and couldn’t control it at all. I loved being choked. A single finger anywhere near my ass had me practically drooling and incapable of concentrating on anything else. Let’s be real I was probably always bad at sex because I was pretending to be dom. Ok I’m gonna change the subject now wew *loosens tie*

Saw the therapist yesterday. We talked about a bunch of stuff. I said how the novelty of the treatment is starting to wear off and the reality is setting in. The wave of euphoria I was riding from coming out to myself is starting to settle. I talked about how scary the muscle loss is. Mentioned how it took me half an hour to get down to her office and it used to only take 15 minutes, that’s 50%. But I wasn’t being fair to myself because my knee is still swollen and it was extremely windy.

We talked about M for a bit and how annoying and reactionary he is. She reminded me that there are probably things I see in him that I don’t like about myself. This is kind of a basic observation about human social dynamics that I have known for a long time but tend to forget. We also talked about free will and how people end up being predisposed to certain behaviors or whatever and to what extent they are responsible or their parents or environment are responsible etc blah blah. 

I’m so tired of that debate. M is just a shithead and I don’t care if his parents sucked. I just bought weed off him today and it’s midsy ugh. But he ended up buying J’s car off him, my roommate’s car. Because he fucking wrecked the car he had just bought. It was totally his fault. So now my roommate has a bunch of his money and bike parts. Karma is real.

She asked me if I looked at the link she sent, I think it’s some kind of trans support group or meet up or something. I said I hadn’t looked at it and tried to explain my social anxiety problems and how it makes meeting people difficult even without the trans complication. But she pointed out that I don’t have to go anywhere or meet anyone to look at the link and I admitted that I’m actually avoiding trans groups because I still have internalized transphobia regarding nonpassing trans women.

I explained that part of why I realized I needed to transition was having a breakdown in reaction to HRT timelines, mostly (no, not mostly, literally 100%) passing trans women. I still look at those timelines and I still scroll past the women who don’t pass. I had to convince myself that I could maybe pass one day in order to start hormones. If I thought I would never pass I wouldn’t be doing this. I explained that this is why I haven’t changed the way I dress at all or started wearing makeup or styling my hair, because I know I won’t pass yet. This is all very sad and bigoted and it makes me feel like shit.

I mentioned seeing that Colin Mocherie from Who’s Line is it Anyway has a trans daughter who just came out and he’s been very accepting of her, even going as far as to do interviews together. I was so excited about this I went looking for the interview. I clicked on it and watched for a second. She doesn’t pass. She just looks like a boy wearing lipstick. I couldn’t watch the interview. I had to close it. At this point in recalling the story to my therapist I started crying. I was like “what the fuck is that.” She didn’t know either. But she just comforted me by reminding me that my upbringing was fucked and my parents were shit and all that. Idk if it really made me feel any better or not. I think I ended up just changing the subject to something else but I don’t remember what.

I wrote a song both yesterday and today. I am getting to the point where I don’t care about the lyrics anymore. I know the beats I’m making are good. And if writing lyrics for them is what’s keeping me cranking them out like this then that’s what I’m going to keep doing. And if all that comes of it is I end up selling beats as a producer and no one fucks with me as a rapper, that’s fine too, I get money either way. 

This is super long I’m gonna go watch SNL from last night. Work tomorrow yay. God damn this weekend fucking flew by.

[sarahburness]

Feeling Anxious? People-Pleasing Could Be to Blame

“Living with anxiety is like being followed by a voice. It knows all your insecurities and uses them against you. It gets to the point when it’s the loudest voice in the room. The only one you can hear.” ~Unknown

White lights flutter before your eyes. Your chest tightens, as if under the weight of a hundred ten-pound bricks. You wonder if your next breath will be your last. Emotions rip through you: fear, glooming dread, hopelessness. Without warning or clear cause, these feelings consume you.

You start to wonder if you’re going crazy. It’s like you no longer have control over your own body, your own thoughts.

This is the experience of chronic anxiety. And if you’ve ever encountered it, you know that the presence of it—and the absence of answers or solutions—can make you feel like you’re losing it. It can make everything that was once enjoyable feel like a struggle.

I know this feeling all too well.

I used to suffer from periodic anxiety attacks in my early twenties. They left me perplexed and afraid. I felt like I was being possessed. I felt out of control and believed I was dying all the time, with no evidence of a real illness.

Anxiety stole parts of my life from me, until I decided I wouldn’t let it take away my hope for a better future. One day, embarrassed after having to pull over onto the side of the road in order to breathe, I decided to get help for my anxiety attacks.

I realized then that people pleasing was causing me anxiety in two ways.

First, I felt anxiety about being imperfect, making mistakes, and making choices that others didn’t approve of, especially in my family relationships. Then I felt more anxiety because I thought I shouldn’t feel this way. I thought if people knew I was suffering from anxiety that they would reject me.

Life can be messy, strange, and hard sometimes. And it gets even harder when the faith you once had in yourself is bulldozed by your inability to take a deep breath and calm yourself down.

It’s hard not to blame yourself. It’s hard to avoid feeling inadequate, like your issues are all your fault. It’s especially hard when you’re a people-pleaser.

Chronic people-pleasers want to look presentable all the time, like we have it all together and our lives are perfect. Anxiety doesn’t fit into the perfect lives we’ve established for ourselves. So when it hits, we become our harshest and cruelest critics.

We fail to realize that when we don’t accept our symptoms, we only exacerbate them. We forget that judging things never makes them better. We can’t help but get angry with ourselves.

Stop Playing Pretend

Anxiety had its most crippling effects on me when I was in college. I believed I needed to get all A’s on my report card in order to be a good student. I also believed that if I had to study to get good grades, I was somehow intellectually inferior.

I studied a lot for tests—more than what I thought should be necessary. But when I talked to other people, I pretended like I’d barely studied at all. And whenever I received the occasional B, I beat myself up pretty harshly.

I didn’t want anyone to know that I didn’t have the best report card. Little did I know at the time it made me appear pretentious and stuck up.

After graduation, I interned at a university clinic, where I started to see clients. With each client, I was assigned a therapy room. This one time, I accidently used a room that wasn’t assigned to me. When the therapy was over, the clinical supervisor was not very happy with me and did not have trouble showing it.

Not knowing how to handle disappointing someone, I cried to her and ran off because I could feel a panic attack coming on. Later I felt like a baby, and couldn’t understand why I had such a strong reaction to making a mistake.

Later I realized I was always anxiously trying to please people because it was difficult for me to deal with disappointing others. I thought somehow making a mistake devalued me as a person, and that made me anxious to think about.

I would assess my worth on how much I could do right, instead of realizing I had intrinsic worth regardless. This experience helped me understand that my urge to please was based on anxiety and fear more than anything else.

I spent that time of my life hiding who I was and putting a fake smile on my face.

In trying to appear perfect, I became rigid and lost my edge and my humor. I resisted my outgoing personality because I thought I would interrupt people too much. I thought I should always let others take center stage while I didn’t ruffle any feathers in the background.

I pretended everything was great, but it wasn’t. I was suffering from crippling anxiety, feeling disconnected, and often misunderstood. I was hiding my pain, and my frustration with people who were acting rude and selfish.

I gave advice and ran to the rescue of anyone in despair, and partook in activities that I didn’t necessarily enjoy. I hid my true self by hiding behind other people’s problems. I convinced myself that there was no room for me.

Through my own experience, I learned that the greatest changes begin when we look at our problems with interest and respect, instead of judgment and denial. When we allow our true thoughts and feelings into awareness, we have the opportunity to learn from them instead of unconsciously reacting to them without knowing why.

We keep our negative feelings relaxed by not ignoring them, and we increase our awareness of reality by being willing to encounter our personal truths.

After therapy, I learned that my panic attacks were a reminder that I was a human, not a perfect being. I needed to be acknowledged for who I was, instead of always putting others first or forcing myself to have it all together.

I needed to know that my worth didn’t depend on what I did for others or what grades appeared on my report card.

Our bodies have so much wisdom, and sometimes they know more than we realize. Sometimes our anxiety is merely a signal telling us to take a closer look within.

Anxiety As A Symptom, Not The Disease

When I first sought therapy for my panic attacks, I thought they were a sign of weakness that needed to be eliminated. What I came to understand is that we can choose to bury our unexpressed emotions and deep thoughts, but they’ll come back later, often in unpleasant ways.

In my case, they came back as panic attacks. When aspects of ourselves are distanced, denied, or devalued, they’ll always try to make us listen by surfacing as unwanted symptoms.

Think about what some aspects of your ignored self are trying to tell you. Maybe your symptoms are coming up as chronic anxiety, depression, muscle pain, headaches, feeling lost, etc.

The analogy of the missing roommate, from Bill O’Hanlon and Bob Bertolino’s book Even from a Broken Web: Brief, Respectful Solution-Orientated Therapy for Sexual Abuse and Trauma, can help clarify the impact of ignoring our inner selves.

The Missing Roommate

Imagine that there are a bunch of people living together in a house, and they decide to kick out one of their roommate because they don’t like him. They lock him out and change the locks.

He comes to the door and tries persistently to get back in, but the roommates tell each other to ignore him, thinking he will go away.

After a while, he becomes exhausted and slumps against the door. They think he’s gone away and won’t cause any more trouble. For quite a while, it seems to have worked. But he’s really just sleeping outside the door.

Eventually, something wakes him up, and he decides he wants to get back in the house. He pounds on the door again but gets no response and becomes tired again. Finally, he becomes desperate and crashes through the front window.

That is what happens when parts of your true self are vanished, unexpectedly. The parts of you that went missing will want to show you who you’re meant to be. They’ll scream, “I want to come back! I am part of you! I will not be ignored!”

This is how it happened for me. I got so caught up in trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be, I lost who I actually was.

However, when we devalue parts of ourselves, they develop a mind of their own. They may go away for a while, at the expense of our wellbeing and relationships, but before long they’ll come crashing through the front window.

We must realize that the experiences we have, even seemly negative ones, are here to teach us, challenge us, and allow us to grow.

How you see yourself, your life, and your options is shaped by your mindset. If you live with the mindset of a people-pleaser, you’ll constantly feel pressure to fit in, make others happy, be liked, gain acceptance, and seem happy all the time. That’s a lot of pressure. No wonder you feel anxious!

When I reached out for the help of a therapist, I thought there was something wrong with me because of how sick I’d gotten. I wasn’t able to see that even if I could benefit from making some changes, my anxiety wasn’t my fault. I needed to grow so I could learn to better manage my life and be okay with sometimes disappointing other people in order to take care of myself.

It’s okay to make mistakes; it’s alright for people not to approve of all your choices; it’s fine to have the occasional issue. In fact, it’s through the pitfalls of life that you can learn and experience who you are.

I’m thankful for my panic attacks. They allowed me to open my eyes and change my life. I started making myself a priority and embraced my imperfections with open arms.

—

Editor’s note: Ilene has generously offered to give away two free copies of her latest book, When It’s Never About You: The People-Pleaser’s Guide to Reclaiming Your Health, Happiness and Personal Freedom. To enter to win one of two free copies, leave a comment below. You don’t have to write anything specific—”Count me in” is sufficient! You can enter until midnight PST on Sunday, December 24th.

About Ilene S. Cohen

Ilene S. Cohen, Ph.D., is a psychotherapist, blogger, and professor. She’s a regular contributor to Psychology Today, with her most recent release of her self-help book entitled, When It’s Never About You. Her work is fueled by her passion for helping people achieve their goals, and lead fulfilling and meaningful lives. To learn more about Dr. Ilene visit www.doctorilene.com.

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