#henry letham fanfiction

[drivinmeinsane]

Winter Break ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Three ※ Henry Letham / Reader

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: During winter break, Henry decides to take you to meet his parents for the first time.

※ Rating: No mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Hurt/Comfort. Self Harm Scars Mentioned, Canon Divergence - Henry Lives, College Student!Reader, Not Entirely Reliable Narrator, Established Relationship

※ Word count: 1924

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

There is a repetitive sound in the room when you wake up, the dry rasping of graphite over paper. You know without looking that Henry is beside you on the bed. The weight of his observing stare pins you in place like a physical touch. You’re sure that he has likely been sketching you for a while. One of his hands reaches out to adjust the way the blanket drapes over your body.

You peer at the clock resting on the floor beside the mattress, staying still while he manipulates the cloth however he wants. It is already past noon. Usually, the both of you would be on campus by now, but winter break allows for small luxuries. No early morning and a lull in assignments feels almost decadent. 

“Good morning,” you say, fighting to speak through your yawn.

“‘Morning,” Henry returns, closing his sketchbook in favor of giving you a less remote kind of attention. He drops it onto the floor before sliding back under the covers to wrap an arm around your waist. You trace the spaces between the cigarette burns on his forearm as though you are an ancient astronomer mapping the constellations.

Just when you are on the cusp of falling back asleep, Henry speaks. His breath blows hot against your shoulder. “I guess we ought to get going, huh?”

You sigh in response, knowing that he is not wrong. There are only so many hours of daylight left and the two of you need to squeeze in a visit to his parents today. You have never met them before and Henry wants to make the trip to go see them, complete with something cooked at home.

Electing to officially start the day Henry rolls away and gets to his feet. You do the same, following him to the living room. While he steps out for a brief smoke, you beeline to the kitchen to start gathering up the ingredients. You are just setting the carton of eggs on the counter when he comes back inside and wedges himself next to you in the narrow space. He immediately starts helping by peeling and grating the potatoes while you dice the onions. Henry heats up a frying pan of oil on the stove, and you set to mixing the shredded potatoes, onion, flour, and eggs together. He begins frying the mixture after dropping sizable dollops of it into the pan. He doesn’t flinch when beads of hot oil hit his bare arm, just watches the food fry with a pair of tongs in his hand. 

As he keeps a close eye on the cooking process, you silently check in with him by running a hand down the knobs of his spine. He nods in response, letting you know he is alright for now. Slightly more at ease, you ready a plate with a folded paper towel and set it on the counter by the stovetop. You do the same with a tupperware container. It will help to drain the excess oil off of the latkes as he takes them out of the frying pan and when you move them off the plate for transport.

He and his mom had made them together every year while his dad busied himself with setting up the chessboard for a lengthy post-dinner game. Henry told you the previous day that it would not feel right to visit empty handed. A last minute dash to the grocery store following that conversation had helped put today’s plan in motion.

You observe him while he cooks, your hands itching for a pen and a piece of paper. Henry is the kind of person that makes you want to write about him, to let endless streams of consciousness flow onto a page. Those feelings made a home in you ever since you saw him hunched over his sketchbook on the floor in between classes. The two of you had quietly observed each other for weeks until you had finally approached him when you needed a partner for an assignment in your only shared class that semester. He had been shy and withdrawn, not at all like he is with you now. 

Coming out of your musings, you move to your partner’s side and begin transferring the latkes. Henry turns the burner off and sets the pan on another to cool down when he scoops up the last of them with the tongs. Now that the cooking is out of the way, the two of you get ready together. You do not dare to leave Henry alone right now, not when he is so vulnerable. Like a stubborn shadow, you will be stuck to his side for the foreseeable future. Thankfully, the next semester is a couple more weeks away. 

With a few hours of daylight left, you both get into Henry’s inherited SUV. He shoves a Radiohead CD into the player almost immediately after starting the vehicle, not able to bear the ambient silence right now. He turns the dial so that it is low enough to be considered background noise. You’re just able to hear the opening lyrics to Airbag over the sound of the vehicle. The tupperware container in your lap is hot, almost burning you through your pants during the start of the half hour drive to New Jersey. The chessboard and its pieces rattle noisily in their case on the back floorboard. The drive is mostly filled with conversation about an upcoming literature class that you will both be attending for the spring semester. Since you first met in freshman year, you have tried to share one class a semester. It gives the two of you something to look forward to during the day.

It is not until you are only a streetlight away from the destination when your nerves finally get the best of you. You turn to your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. “I’m a little nervous,” you admit.

“Don’t be. Mom and Dad are gonna love you. Promise.” He takes his hand off of the Ford Exploror’s steering wheel and offers you his pinky.

You hook yours around his and yelp as he clamps his finger onto it and draws your hand down towards his knee. He lets you go as soon as you make contact with the top of his thigh. You press your palm into the meat of it. The gnarled scar tissue arching across the top of it is apparent even through the material of his pants. You idly trace your fingers over the ridges, soothing you both with the repetitive motion. 

“We’ve got three minutes until we pull up. You’re gonna be fine.” He laughs a little and drums his hands on the steering wheel to the music playing on the radio. “Bet you would steal the title for favorite family member.”

You feel tears sting your eyes and you squeeze his leg. “Unlikely. I’ve heard you talk about them a lot. You’re their boy, Henry. That doesn’t change.”

The other college student just nods. Mahlus Gardens is just ahead on the left and flipping the signal on, he makes the turn through the gate onto the narrow drive. He leans forward, scanning for the right lot. Upon locating it, he slows to a stop. He angles the tires and pulls the parking brake. You sit in silence before he steels himself and unbuckles your seatbelt, letting the material start sliding across your chest. He undoes his as well and drops out of the SUV. He loops around to your side and pulls the door open before you can reach the handle. He skims a fingertip over the bridge of your nose and steps back to let you stand at his side so he can close the door. He snags the chess set out of the back before taking your hand. 

Together, you walk through the grass. One of your hands holding Henry’s and the other carrying the tupperware container. Finally Henry finds the right spot and comes to a stop. Beside you, he takes a shaky breath and lets go of your hand to drop into a squat. You kneel beside him.

“Mom, Dad, this is my partner. ‘Thought we'd stop by. The first night of Chanukah is tonight, and I…” He breaks off, almost curling into himself. You pick up the conversation in his stead.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Letham. It’s nice to meet you.” At your side, you hear Henry let out a small sob and swipe at his face. You put your hand on his back and rub it soothingly. “You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

You both sit on the lawn across from one another and settle in. You place the tupperware in the middle and Henry takes out two latkes and places them side by side in front of the family gravemarker. Henry sets up for a game of chess. As you play, you eat despite neither of you having much of an appetite. The food is comforting though, enough so that Henry manages to relax. He tells stories about his childhood, filling in for his parents, embarrassing stories and all. In return, you talk about how the two of you met. You share some of the best moments you have had with their son. It is bittersweet. An ache settles in your chest.

Once the sun is finally starting to tap the horizon, Henry calls a close to the match, you’ve been locked in a stalemate for the last half of it anyway. Your fingers brush as you jointly put away the game. He stands and dusts his pants off before offering you a hand up. You allow him to help you to your feet. Before making the journey back to the vehicle, Henry rests his hand on the stone for a moment. 

“Bye, Mom, Dad.” He makes no promises to be back. 

You are the one who drives back to the apartment. Henry looks out the window the entire time, biting at the sides of his fingers. He looks wrung out, on the cusp of screaming or crying. Maybe both. There is a reason you both had decided to save the visit until the break. Going to class and managing emotions would have been difficult. This is Henry’s first Chanukah without his parents. There was no way of knowing that the previous one would end up being the last.

You put the Explorer in park once you pull into the crowded parking lot of your apartment complex and tap his arm. He follows you to the door, emotionally exhausted. The tupperware container goes in the fridge and once you vacate the kitchen, you meet Henry at the window. The Shamash is in his hand as he looks down at his family menorah. It was one of the only things he had kept that belonged to his family. It was passed down through his father’s side for generations. You had painstakingly helped him clean and polish it the night before, a task he and his dad used to do together every December.

Once at his side, you pick up the lighter resting on the window ledge next to the menorah. You flick the wheel. It lights in a smooth motion, flame steady. You offer it to Henry. He tilts the candle and holds the wick in the fire until it ignites. You stand at his side in silent support as he wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue. He shakily starts to recite the blessings, tears running down his face.

[goslings-girlx]

“ballet sketches„

Your back slightly arched, your pointed toes lifting you off the slick wooden flooring. The curve of your arms encircled above your head was silently replicated in the notepad held within Henry’s hands.

The twirl of your body quickly slipped into a graceful pirouette. Henry used the sight as a chance to watch the angle of your flexed calves. His eyes moved back to the page in front of him, sketching out the elegant shape of your legs. Lost in the translation between real life and the art in front of him.

But. They were both art, weren’t they?

Something about it was addicting. The curve of your hips, the stretch of your legs, the point of your toes. He could’ve drawn them for hours. He had drawn them for hours. Late nights, Henry was always there, the bench outside of the ballet room, watching through the glass windows. The ones that covered the length of the wall.

Henry wasn’t quite sure when or how he started this routine; watching you dance. He just knew that on Wednesday and Friday nights, he was there. On the bench. Watching. Drawing.

Though his slight obsession with tracing you on paper was odd, he made sure it ended there, not daring to step any farther past the already broken line. He was very aware of his own presence with you. He understood how it would appear.

A creepy looking man was watching you every Wednesday and Friday night as you innocently danced. Innocently practiced your skill. He knew it could be…off putting to say the least. So he tried making it as comfortable for you as possible, he took the opposite exit and left about ten minutes before you did. Like clockwork.

Henry continued his in depth sketch. You. Gorgeous, precious, talented. Like a swan, like a peacock spreading its shimmering wings. Blinding everyone around it with its unadulterated beauty.

I was thinking of Natalie Portman’s “Black Swan” while writing this! I was writing this a few months ago and I sort of want to make this into a series possibly. So sorry I’ve been honest as of late, school started and I’m lacking inspiration. I take ALL requests so feel free to “Hey Girl” me with anything.

+ this one is especially for my fav Henry stans @calibr3 + @lilyletham love you, darlings. 💋

[webbo0]

hi. It’s me again. If I’m annoying just tell me and I’ll peace sign into the void.

I personally think that Henry Letham knew a lot of people as aqaintences; Athena was actually an actress so she had costars and directors, and I’m sure his parents knew a good bit of people. And he also knew what those people thought about him, shown by the inspector guy saying “pale, skinny kid always drawing pictures” and saying how Henry gave him the creeps or something along those lines. That makes me think that he didn’t have many or any friends but a lot of colleague types of people; that leads to them coming to his hospital room just to check up on him but obviously grieving for the ones who didn’t survive and him having immense guilt at being the one who lived. “I killed her. I’m sorry” to one of Athena’s costars. This is a huge ramble, and I understand if you don’t use any of this crap. This was probably also obvious so 😐

I also think he has a talent/copes by “filling in the blanks,” so to say. Not many people talk to him, he’s only seen Sam and the other people for a few seconds but he’s built personalities and lives around them, and from what we can see from Sam in the real world, his personality doesn’t seem too far off from the vision world (stays cool in stressful situations, wants to help, firm). I might be reaching but maybe this has to do with his obsession with Tristan Reveir? Like, if he has a person he’s obsessed with in the vision world I think it’s safe to assume he has one in the real world. And look at Tristian! There are blanks all over that guy; his artwork has never been seen, his suicide is the most famous thing about him. Henry has projected himself onto him. And going back to making up Sam’s personality and kind of being right (maybe???), Henry, from not being talked to and everything, is very emotionally smart and knows what people are saying from their unconscious body signals to the point where it’s weird. This can also be reinforced by Henry knowing what Sam was going to say before he said it; though that might just be because it’s the same mind.

This all just turkey shit that’s probably unusable. My apologies; to be fair I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this so hello person on the internet. ✌🏼

I will NEVER be tired of people talking about this movie you have no need to apologize!

I definitely see the vision of him having people in his life, in the brief flashes of his past we see he has a pretty healthy relationship with his family and others, so it's in character!

The thought of him constantly apologizing for killing them hurts me so much and is also my favorite goddamn concept ughhh

I DEFINITELY think he fills in the blanks of people's lives with his weird vision-version of what he thinks they're like, and him being kinda accurate is a fun concept! (Also easier to write lol)

I have SO many things I want to write about Tristan Revier 👀👀👀👀

(thanks for sending stuff in!!!)

[evilkennedy]

Hi tumblr! Another rp ad because I’m going insane, feel free to message me on here or on discord if you’re interested! Here’s what I’m looking for:

Literacy: semi-lit to lit, a few paragraphs per reply.

Fandom: Ryan Gosling’s Filmography(?)

Pair: I’m down for anything really. OCs, canon ships, self insert stuff.

Characters: I’d like to write against these characters as myself OR as these characters against canon or otherwise. (Both is perfect if you have a self insert or oc you’d like to use too!)

Henry Letham (Stay, 2005), Holland March (The Nice Guys), Sierra Six, (The Gray Man) Noah Calhoun (The Notebook), Colt Seavers (The Fall Guy), Luke Glanton (The Place Beyond the Pines), Ken (Barbie)

Ship(s): Holland March x Jackson Healy, Barbie x Ken. I’m down for OC stuff and s/i stuff if you’re willing to double and write for me also.

Triggers: Nothing much, tbh.

Genres: hurt/comfort, whump, fluff, angst, etc.

Plot ideas: sooooo many, feel free to reach out to discuss anything! I especially love whumping characters and/or sickfics,,, giggles

Where: Discord! sunflowerdany

Since I also have my Etsy, which you can find here : https://sunnydarts.etsy.com

I may be more responsive on weekends! My commissions for fanfiction are also still open. (2 slots)

https://sunnydarts.etsy.com

[drivinmeinsane]

{ requests :: maybe } ※ { ao3 } ※ { last updated :: May. 13th, 2024 }

All my works for this blog are related in some way to characters played by Ryan Gosling. Be aware that many of the fanfictions and thoughts contain content that is 18+ in nature. Please do not engage with those posts if you are a minor.

My inbox and messages are always open! ♥

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Shot Through the Heart } ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader ※ ao3

You've worked with Colt off and on for years, building an easy rapport with the stuntman. The rest of the crew sends you to check up on him after he's bad off following a stunt that seems to have caused his nearly career-ending injury to act up.

{ Moves } ※ Colt Seavers x AFAB!Reader ※ ao3 ※ 18+

On unsteady feet and with linked arms, you and Colt stumble along in the sand. You’re hanging onto each other. The warmth of the man at your side is almost more intoxicating than the beer you’ve been sipping all night long. The ocean is refreshingly cool against your ankles as you trail through the lapping waves, shoes and socks clasped firmly in your hands.

※ .{ D R A B B L E }. ※

Golden Hour ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader Playtime ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader Scene Partner ※ Colt Seavers x GN!Reader ※ 18+

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ I Do Nothing but Think of You } ※ Driver ※ ao3 ※ 18+

He can't eat. He can't sleep. He's obsessed and restless. What else is there to do but go for a drive?

{ Under Pressure } ※ Driver ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Driver is feeling under the weather. Blaming the oppressive Los Angeles heat for the tightness in his chest, the mechanic leaves in the middle of his shift to try to recover only to receive a shock when it turns out to be something that he should be utterly incapable of.

※ .{ D R A B B L E }. ※

Choking ※ Driver x AFAB!Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request} 18+ Clumsy Stalking ※ Driver x GN!Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request} 18+ Maintenance ※ Driver x GN!Reader ※ ao3 Repercussions ※ Driver x GN!Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request}

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Driver ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+

※ .{ M O O D B O A R D }. ※

Driver ※ "There's no good sharks?" Driver ※ Werewolf!AU

※ .{ F A N A R T }. ※

Werewolf!AU Driver screenshot study

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Birthday Boy } ※ Officer K x Joi ※ ao3

Officer K does not often find himself surprised. He was made to be clearheaded and adaptable, able to get a read on most situations at a glance. Joi is a true wildcard in his life. She elicits feelings from him that he never could have predicted. As a result, he finds himself floundering in the wake of an unexpected gesture.

{ Somebody to You } ※ Officer K x GN!Reader ※ ao3

With a tremor threatening to shake his body, he slips his fingers under the edge of his shirt sleeve and pulls it up to his elbow. His soulmark is laid bare before your eyes. The wound that he had left in his own skin when he had tried to carve out the design has faded to a raised, pale line. “That wasn’t there before,” you murmur, taking his forearm in your hands. Your pointer finger traces over the scar.

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Officer KD6-3.7 ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+

※ .{ M I S C }. ※

Officer K's jacket

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Crimson Headache } ※ Sierra Six x AFAB!Reader ※ ao3 ※ 18+

You wonder something about Six. Will he allow himself to surrender to what he really wants?

{ Leap of Faith } ※ Sierra Six (solo) ※ ao3

What if the escape mission had gone a little differently? No outcomes are certain. No one is impervious to fault.

{ Witness in the Dark } ※ Sierra Six x Claire's Sister!Reader ※ ao3

Don't we all just want to feel the companionable reassurance of another human being?

It only takes a single tragedy to tear your life to shreds and make it to where you're unable to sleep through the night. You tell yourself that you will never trust a bodyguard again, but things don't go according to plan when a man with a number for a name is assigned to the Fitzroy household while your uncle is away.

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Sierra Six ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+

※ .{ M O O D B O A R D S }. ※

Sierra Six ※ Just another Thursday."

※ .{ M I S C }. ※

Sierra Six's tattoos

※ .{ DRIVER x KEN } ※ { ONESHOT }

{ Draw Me In } ※ Driver x Ken ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Ken's insatiable curiosity leads to a messy outcome when he fails to give Driver any semblance of personal space.

{ Take You In Real Slow } ※ Driver x Ken ※ ao3 ※ 18+ 🕊

He twists his house key in the door and turns the knob to open it. Locked. Adjusting the basket resting against his hip, he frowns and tries his key again. The door unlocks this time. The knob is slippery in his grasp. When he pulls his hand away, it’s covered in more of that red stuff from the elevator.

{ The Way You Stare } ※ Driver x Ken ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Ken has never learned the importance of being patient. His efforts to be the sole recipient of Driver's steady focus earn him a hard and frustrating lesson from a man who is not very composed himself.

※ .{ DRIVER x KEN } ※ { MOODBOARDS}

Driver x Ken ※ "I'm thinking 'bout how I want to see you in some kinda lip gloss. Might feel sticky and gritty if I kissed you. Bet you would look pretty, just like now. All pink. Sparkly." 

※ .{ OFFICER K x SIERRA SIX } ※ { MULTI-CHAPTER }

{ Eyes Always Searching } ※ Officer K x Sierra Six ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Unpleasantly, K feels the return of the drowning sensation he had felt earlier. It is almost as though someone had placed a mirror in front of him in a dream. The reflection is him, but distinctly not. ※ chapter one: In some Sad Way ※ chapter two: I Already Know ※ chapter three: I Will Not Ask You, Neither Should You

※ .{ OFFICER K x SIERRA SIX } ※ { MOODBOARDS }

Officer K x Sierra Six ※ K places his right hand on the table beside his guest’s. He can feel the warmth of his fellow Nexus sink into his own skin. He swallows, pulse jumping. The hand not on the table clenches around his thigh. His nails dig into the outer seam of his pants. “What was your most shameful moment? ” the baseline mocks at him in his mind. He can’t do it. He can’t bridge the gap. He can’t-

※ .{ O N E S H O T }. ※

{ Bad Dog } ※ Ken x GN!Reader ※ ao3 ※ 18+

You have volunteered to give Ken a lesson in being a good dog. It takes a firm hand to get positive results.

※ .{ M U L T I C H A P T E R }. ※

{ Ocean Boulevard } ※ Holland March x Merman!Jackson Healy ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Struggling, he can’t seem to reach the surface no matter how hard he paddles upwards. He’s going to die down here if he can’t cover any distance. He’d failed to take in any air when he went over on account of knocking himself senseless. Making a mistake, Holland looks down and sees the darting shadow of a pointed dorsal fin. Shark. There’s a fucking shark in the water with him.

※ .{ D R A B B L E }. ※

Frequently Bought Together ※ Ken & GN! Reader ※ ao3 ※ {request}

※ .{ T H O U G H T S }. ※

Henry Letham ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+ Holland March ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+ Lars Lindstrom ※ Partner Headcanons ※ 18+ Ryan Gosling!Ken ※ Partner Headcanons (bad end) ※ 18+ Ryan Gosling!Ken ※ Partner Headcanons (good end) ※ 18+

※ .{ M O O D B O A R D S }. ※

Henry Letham※ "If this is a dream, then the whole world is inside it." Holland March ※ "I had to question the mermaids." Ken ※ "Every night is boy's night." Ken ※ "To be honest, when I found out the patriarchy wasn't about horses, I lost interest anyways." Ken ※ "What will it take for her to see the man behind the tan?" Sebastian Wilder ※ "Are you shining just for me?"

※ .{ M I S C }. ※

Favorite Ryan Gosling movies {ask} Favorite pairings for Ryan Gosling characters {ask}

※ .{ HOLIDAY & EVENT COLLECTIONS }. ※

{ 12 Days of Goosemas } ※ 2023 ※ ao3 ※ 18+

This is a collection of twelve fanfictions all under two thousand words each and all pertaining to characters played by Ryan Gosling. Not all of these works are directly intended to be Christmas themed, but they are all set in the month of December and have some seasonal vibes! 01 ※ { Hot Chocolate } ※ Officer K / Reader 02 ※ { Christmas Movie } ※ Driver / Ken 03 ※ { Winter Break }※ Henry Letham / Reader 04 ※{ Snow }※ Sierra Six / Reader 05 ※ { Holiday Party }※ Julian Thompson / Reader ※ 18+ 06 ※ { Decorating }※ Sebastian Wilder / Reader 07 ※ { Alone }※ Driver / Reade 08 ※ { Lights } ※ Holland March / Jackson Healy 09 ※ { Cookies} ※ Driver / Ken※ 18+ 10 ※ { Snowstorm } ※ Colt Seavers / Reader 11 ※ { New Year }※ Henry Letham / Sam Foster 12 ※ { Mistletoe } ※ Driver / Reader ※ 18+

※ .{ THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT SERIES }. ※

A collaborative series written with @danime25 centered around the relationship between Holland March and Jackson Healy.

{ Give Me the Night } ※ Holland March x Jackson Healy ※ ao3 ※ 18+

What if Healy had broken Holland's right arm instead of his left? Like most jobs involving stakeouts, the night is going by slowly. That all takes a turn, however, when Holland March, pent up and frustrated, finally pushes his fellow detective too far. Part one of the Butterfly Effect Series. (Can be read as a standalone)

{ Don't Go Breaking My Heart } ※ Holland March x Jackson Healy ※ ao3 ※ 18+

Even during the most wonderful time of the year, Holland March can't help but be clumsy. A stressful hospital trip to set the detective's re-fractured arm leads an unfortunate revelation about his relationship with Jackson Healy. Part two of the Butterfly Effect Series. (Can be read as a standalone) ※ chapter one: It's Up to Us // ao3 ※ chapter two: I Think We Can Make It // ao3 ※ 18+

※ .{ C R E D I T S }. ※

{ headers } ※ @drivinmeinsane { 18+ divider } ※ @cafekitsune { foliage dividers } ※ @saradika-graphics

[drivinmeinsane]

Happy winter everyone! Welcome to my 12 Days of Goosemas masterlist for 2023. This is a collection of twelve fanfictions all under two thousand words each and all pertaining to characters played by Ryan Gosling. Not all of these works are directly intended to be Christmas themed, but they are all set in the month of December and have some seasonal vibes!

My local timezone is GMT-6. The twelve fics will be posted starting December 12th at midnight and will continue through to December 24th.

A huge thanks to @danime25 for embarking on this journey with me by taking up her own 12 Days of Goosemas collection.

{ Hot Chocolate }※ Officer K / Reader ※ {ao3)

{ Christmas Movie } ※ Driver / Ken ※ {ao3}

{ Winter Break }※ Henry Letham / Reader {ao3}

{ Snow }※ Sierra Six / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ Holiday Party }※ Julian Thompson / Reader ※ {ao3} 18+

{ Decorating }※ Sebastian Wilder / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ Alone }※ Driver / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ Lights } ※ Holland March / Jackson Healy ※ {ao3}

{ Cookies } ※ Driver / Ken ※ {ao3} 18+

{ Snowstorm } ※ Colt Seavers / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ New Year }※ Henry Letham / Sam Foster ※ {ao3}

{ Mistletoe } ※ Driver / Reader ※ {ao3} 18+

{NON-SEASONAL MASTERLIST}

[drivinmeinsane]

New Year ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Eleven ※ Henry Letham / Sam Foster

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: There has been something destructive in Henry for as long as he can remember. Sam chooses to go looking for him at the wrong time.

※ Rating: No mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Inappropriate Relationship Dynamics, Unhealthy Behaviors, Age Gap

※ Word count: 863

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

“Henry.” A voice cuts over the roar of the wind, “This isn’t healthy.”

Opening his eyes, he sees the concerned face of Dr. Sam Foster himself. The other man is hovering over him, bundled up against the December chill. Henry is not nearly as concerned about the temperature. He is laying flat on his back in a long sleeved shirt with a polo thrown sloppily over it. His back has long since gone numb from iciness radiating from the rooftop of his Manhattan apartment. 

The college student turned tragedy survivor hadn’t wanted company tonight, had gone out of his way to avoid it. His efforts clearly haven’t mattered, Sam always has a way of finding him, no matter what. The other man is like a bloodhound, one calibrated specifically for his scent alone. 

Henry has an opened bottle of cheap alcohol in one hand and a lit cigarette tucked between the fingers of the other. The rush of the traffic on the streets fifteen floors below sounds both deafening and distant. He could just as easily be laying on the sidewalk instead.

Dr. Foster is not at all deterred by Henry’s apathetic silence. He speaks again, his tone softly scolding. “You’ve been dodging my calls. Can we talk about why? Maybe inside? It’s cold out here.”

“Go find someone else to lecture,” he says in return. He flicks the cigarette to the side, lets it roll away. Sam snuffs it out with the tip of his shoe. It’s a good allegory for the way the other man is always trying to help him, to put out the fire inside his mind. If only he hadn’t come into Henry’s life so late, maybe he could have helped in a way that actually mattered. 

“I’m just worried about you.”

“You worry about everyone but yourself. Look at you, you’re not fuckin’ sleeping,” he says, a touch of meanness to his voice. He is just so frustrated, so helpless to change anything. 

Sam just heaves that world weary sigh that he’s so fond of, and it proves to be too much for Henry. He surges to his feet in an inelegant tangle of limbs and scraped palms. He approaches the doctor only to grab hold of his lapel. Driven by an impulsive, reckless part of his brain, he backs him into the side of the rooftop stairway enclosure. He pushes the other man into the bricks at his back, all but grinding him into the rough surface. Dr. Foster lets Henry manipulate his body however he wants. He’s pliant, accepting. There’s no resistance to be found, just that same damnable concern in those blue eyes. 

“Henry.” Sam is too calm, too patient. It’s infuriating. 

Clenching his jaw, he tightens his hold on the other man’s coat collar. His knuckles feel like they’re creaking with how hard he’s gripping the cloth. The bottle in his other hand crashes to the ground and it explodes in a shower of glass. The alcohol inside slops up and over their shoes. Both men are going to smell like a distillery. Neither of them flinch. Sam is too used to Henry to be phased by it.

The artist is up in his face, so close that their noses brush with every small movement. Sam puts his hand over his, holds it firmly but makes no move to remove his hold on the coat. Henry catches the flash of the other man’s watch.

“We’re close to midnight, doctor,” he says, breath intermingling with Sam’s. “Why did you really come here?”

Against his knuckles, he feels the bob of Foster’s throat as he swallows thickly. His eyes can’t seem to stay focused on Henry’s, constantly flitting to his mouth and jerking back up. It makes something curl pleasantly in his stomach. He has always had a thing for older men. 

“Like I said, I was worried about you.” It sounds like he’s not sure of the answer any longer himself.

“Could have come at a different time.” Henry suggests. 

“Yes,” Sam Foster agrees, weakly.

In the distance, fireworks start to go off. He checks the other man’s watch. The minute hand ticks over and it’s officially midnight. Henry brings his other hand up and grips the back of Sam’s neck. He brushes his thumb over the side of it in a distantly calming gesture. 

“Happy New Year,” he says, not waiting for a response before he kisses the man he has pressed against the bricks. 

Underneath him, Sam gasps, mouth falling open. Henry licks his way inside. He devours him, finally feeling something other than the existential dread that has been plaguing him since the accident. He thinks he could grow addicted to the noises coming from the shorter man, a new drug, something to use until it just makes him numb.

When he finally pulls away, he does so completely. He fishes a cigarette from the pack in his pants pocket and puts it between his lips, lights it. Henry leaves the other man standing dazed and breathless amongst a sea of broken glass. He figures that Dr. Foster will know where to find him if he really wishes to.

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Yeah formatting fanfics for Tumblr has become the bane of my existence, so I'll be keeping things mostly to AO3 now

Anyways here's a fanfic that like. No one will fully understand unless you're Jewish and a fan of Stay 2005, but I wrote it anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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*sighs* because none of my friends have watched it and I’m at a soccer game and I’m bored out of my mind could I ask you some questions?

Have you watched Remember the Titans? (If you haven’t it’s on Disney Plus and is literally the best football movie I’ve ever seen; plus young Ryan Gosling who plays a guy named Allan which I screamed at because “all his clothes fit me”)

If you have…I dunno, thoughts, favorite moment, anything (beggar me, scrounging for crumbs)

More Tiny Little Headcanons for Henryyyy (+ some Henry Lives AU headcanons)

Because Athena acts in older plays, he’s tried to read more Shakespearean books and stuff like that so they can talk about it together and he can be of assistance when she’s rehearsing. (This is how I see it, you’ll probably have something different: he’s OKAY with them, but not the hugest fan. Whenever Athena is ranting about how useless the female characters are, he’ll just nod with a small smile and agree.)

He’s the kind of person to be kind of awkward around small kids, convinced that they don’t like him. I think that kids can sense a kind person, so that doesn’t deter them and he ends up teaching them how to draw and stuff.

I’ve never been in a hospital as a patient and I’m guessing ways to kill yourself wouldn’t be TOO numerous but when Henry first wakes up to a few weeks out he tries many times to pull the tubes out of him or turn off the numbing medication (the stuff that’s in the bag; not hydration but…ughhhh stoopid), get out of his bed and stuff to the point where they have to tie him down. (IS THIS FACTUAL I DONT KNOW). After that, when Sam comes to visit and he asks what happened, Henry says, “I’m a monster. Thats why.” Or something.

In a lighter note, Henry DEFINITELY makes for some awkward situations when he asks Sam “when are you gonna marry your girl?” And Sam tries to explain that he and “his girl” have been on one half date to get coffee after seeing his broken body being taken away to the hospital. “Where’s your ring?” “What ring, Henry?” “Your- the ring you were gonna give her; you didn’t lose it, did you?” “Who is her?”

That’s all for now. Probably will continue in ten minutes. Thanks for reading all this shit.

I haven't seen Remember the Titans yet, but it's on my list!

And I'm literally so happy to get headcanons I'm twirling my (non-existent) long hair ✨

• I would love to dive into their relationship more! We get so little about her but I love the classic "visual artist doesn't fully understand the literary artist and vice versa but they are super supportive of each other" bit!

• I also think he'd be good with kids, or at least they'd sense that he's chill, he's Definitely a cat person IMO

• I'm honestly planning on him being on a psych hold at some point in the story so I SEE the vision

• And yes!!! The blurring between realities!!! That's also something I'm Super excited to write about!!

As always I owe you my life lol, thanks for the inspiration!

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ATTENTION STAY 2005 LOVERS!!🗣️🗣️

I am going to attempt to write a Henry Lives/recovery AU about how he copes post accident, please drop any and all headcanons about what you think that would look like, what you think Sam/Henry/other characters are like in the real world, or just anything!

I will 100% credit all ideas if I end up using them, and if you just want to share without me writing about it, no worries, just let me know! I'd still love to hear them (I'm so incredibly starved for content lol).

NSFW is allowed, but I'm not great at writing it so I may not include it in the final fic.

Thanks to everyone who adds, and feel free to share with anyone you think might have some ideas!

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heyyy I have a suggestion for your Henry Letham lives fic. As we both know, Henry is convinced he’s going to Hell in the vision or whatever you want to call it, and I think some of that or a lot is in his awake mind.

So what if, when Henry wakes up in the hospital and interacts with the others in real life, he refers or considers Sam and Sam’s vision girlfriend (her name isn’t coming to me; I feel so baddddd I’m sorry) as his guardian angels or just his angels?? Either in his head or when he’s on numbing drugs straight up saying that they’re true angels. Not like sweetly but…concerning-ly. Ya know. Sorry.

I love this movie so much; I’ll probably relay some more as they pop into my head. Good luck on the fic!!

That's so cute!!! I adore some religious imagery (even though my knowledge of Christianity is shaky at best lol). But the potential there is so good 👀👀