#shes literally watched their stream for years and spoken to them in person multiple times

[tls12lessthan3]

coming out and saying something incredibly brave. i think uriels dokhyuk yaoi would be actually decently in character

[siderealscribblings]

Hello. I hope you're okay with me dumping every ounce of my adoration for you The Games of Divinity series here, because I simply cannot stay silent any longer. I read the whole thing yesterday in the span of fifty three minutes at one a.m. with my eyes barely open and a blanket up to my chin so it was truly one of those Authentic Fic Experiences TM. I'm obsessed. I'm enraptured. I'm in love.

Your character analyses of Neuvillette and Furina? Chef's kiss. I am throwing them into a glass jar and shaking vigorously to watch them bounce off the walls. I am chewing on them like a four year old with unlimited access to a bag of Starburst and every flavour in their mouth at once. I am gripping you by the shoulders with tears streaming down my face because you have ruined every fic I read for the next two hundred and sixteen business days. Nothing will ever compare. Sanity is a long lost dream. Your AO3 account isn't a prison, it's home.

If you can't already tell, I adore your work. As a writer myself, I get gender envy while reading it. Except its writing style envy. Your use of italics for highlighting humour is wonderful. The shift in dynamic across the years with Furina and Neuvillette is masterfully done. It's hard to ship Neuvifuri because to me it's only appealing in one of two scenarios: an AU where Neuvillette knows, or one in which he begs pitifully for Furina's forgiveness after trapping her and putting her on trial without knowing what she was going through. Your fic is easily the best example of the former I've ever read. The only reason I haven't flooded your inbox with Kudos and AO3 comments is because my account is acting up and I had to read as a guest.

I love every chapter. Like actually. The first one? Seeing their initial attitudes towards each other was fascinating. The one where Neuvillette gets The Horny? Literally so funny and somehow hot as hell at the same time. The chapter from the POV of the Gardes? Hilarious and an incredibly creative way of showcasing their relationship from the perspective of an outsider. On that note, the Gardes themselves are such colourful characters, I think it's amazing how you went to the effort to give everyone such a distinctive personality. Also the scene with Xiao and Zhongli was scrumptious, that one line... "Zhongli placed a hand on the back of his neck, thumb gently kneading the soft spot where his neck and shoulder met like a man scruffing an unruly cat." That's so cute to me. Your Honour. They are so cute. And Neuvi being all baffled by himself for trying to intimidate Zhongli was endlessly amusing, especially when you said something along the lines of '"Neuvillette didn't mind being spoken of like a dog in heat, but he drew the line at barbs being aimed at Furina." You nail the dynamics every single time. Wild.

The internal conflicts of both Furina and Neuvillette are delightful as well. Furina's guilt for needing Neuvillette versus Neuvillette wishing Furina would let herself need him? Collapses. I am bleeding from multiple stab wounds. It's so eiohrohsiowiourwhrf. They're so vdhkfhoewirdkf. Neuvillette being awed by her humanity versus Furina wishing she could properly hide it. Neuvillette wishing he could share her altruism but knowing he would send a fleet to die in Furina's place even if she despised him for it. Banging my fist on the table. The intrinsic protectiveness and the guilt of needing to be protecting. Clutching my head in my hands. Tearing out my hair. Shuddering like I'm attached to an electric chair cranked up to the highest voltage.

I would suffer the trials of every hero from Greek mythology to read more of it.

Thanks for reading! Love hearing your thoughts on this; I think one of the big appeals about this pairing is crazy devotion that can happen between two people lying to God's face. It's like the greatest hits of every ship that's tickled my brain over the years and I'm glad I have an opportunity to play around with it.

No Neman Lions will need to be slain for the next chapter (probably)

[djarinvibe]

Shooting Stars (Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: I apologize this is took so long to get out. Life is mad against me right now and I’m just trying to stay afloat- anyways heres wonderwall...

Warnings: MODERN!AU, mentions of child abuse but not detailed

Words: 3.1K

Summary: Din comes over to help with a project, bringing along someone you didn’t expect.

Master List

October

“I’m sure you're aware as to why I called you into my office…?” Dean Karga’s voice echoed throughout his boring, run-of-the-mill office. You furrowed your brows and shook your head, watching the man in confusion. He sat leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, mindlessly twirling a pen between his fingers and looking up at you expectantly. 

“I am not,” You answered with a chuckle, sitting in one of his guest chairs. The man had summoned you without warning; you had just dismissed your last class of the day when the announcement happened. 

“The Halloween Formal…?” The man trailed off in question again. His expression was excited, as he shrugged out his arms with glee, however you still couldn't get a read as to whatever the hell he was getting on about. The Halloween Formal is a dance the school puts on every year; usually organized by a sorority of students and the secretaries working together.

“What about it?” You shook your head in confusion, studying the man's face for any answers. He took his feet off the desk, leaning towards you in his chair with a growing smile. 

“I want you to put together the Formal this year.” Karga grinned, arms stretched out in exclamation. You grimaced at the offer, quickly shaking your head. 

“Me? What happened to the sorority girls and the secretaries?” You questioned, “Like, a whole team of people?” 

“Right,” The Dean sighed, dropping his arms to his lap, “The sorority decided they didn't want to do it this year, and the secretaries agreed... However, Omera suggested you.” 

“Or, maybe you could hire an outside source?” You suggested, prompting the man to give you a pursed-lip glare. Also, why would Omera call you out like that? You’ll have to speak to her later.

“It’s not in the budget.” He coyly responded, triggering your eyes to roll. “Look, I’ll give you an extra week of vacation as compensation? I just need someone to plan this damned thing.” 

You paused before speaking, casting your arms up in defeat, “Alright, fine. Can I at least recruit some people to help?” 

“Yes- But don't tell them about the vacation days…” The Dean quickly spoke, giving you a look. You sighed with a nod, prompting the man to chuckle with glee and clap his hands together; probably ecstatic he didn't have to plan the Formal himself. 

--

The afternoon sun blared into the windows, casting a golden glow across your emptied classroom. A groan passed through your lips as your eyes scanned the list of essential items for the Formal. Your feet anxiously tapped the ground below your desk as you chewed your cheek.

It’s been one week since the Dean gave you the task of planning the Halloween Formal, and honestly, you've got nothing done; your helper hasn't exactly been much help. Omera, who you recruited out of spite, hasn't done her tasks yet leaving you a week behind from where you should be. You would ask Din for help, but it’s his first year here and you honestly don't want to scare him off with such a tedious job. 

Ever since his personal introduction in your classroom just a month a few weeks ago, your friendship has blossomed. Never have you gotten along with a new teacher so fast, but you love it. However, you've noticed that he isn't as social with the other teachers. He mostly tends to just hang by himself unless people engage him. It makes you curious as to why he was so eager to introduce himself to you.  

A quiet, repeated knock echoed throughout the room, startling you. Chuckling to dismiss your scare, you called for whomever to enter the space. 

“Hey,” Din’s low, gravely voice caught your attention, and you looked up to greet the man. He had just closed the door behind him, beginning to pad over to your desk. 

“Hi,” You smiled at the man, biting your lip shortly after. He donned his signature gray suit, with dark brown shoes to match. His hair was loose and curly, splaying across his forehead and curling around his ears. You noted his stubble had grown in a bit, appearing more dark against his tan skin. 

The two of you haven’t spoken in person for a couple days, as he had gone out of town. He never told you why, and you didn't want to pry either; Though you were very curious. You know that he has an adopted three year old son, and couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with him. 

Din mentioned his son to you a few weeks back. The two of you had somehow managed to find yourselves alone in the teachers lounge. You told him your life story, while he remained relatively quiet; but you managed to find out some things about him.  

“How have you been?” He questioned, mindlessly grabbing a spare chair from a stack in the corner of the room, which you keep for meetings, and placed it down in front of your desk.

“The usual,” You chuckled lightly, shrugging afterwards. “How were your days off?” You added, leaning forward and resting your elbows on your desk.

“Oh, I just took my son out of town for a couple days.” Din shrugged off your intrigue, clearly not interested in sharing more details. 

“I'm jealous, getting out of town sounds like a dream right now.” You sensed the man's hesitation for detail, and began to shift the topic to the Halloween Formal. Grabbing the paper from earlier, you groaned looking at the list.

“The Dean told me about that,” Din chuckled, reaching down and grabbing the to-do list from your grasp. His eyes scanned the paper before he shook his head, handing it back.

“It’s in less than three weeks and I’ve got nothing done.” You groaned, resting your head into your hands. “And my helper, Omera, has been… well, unhelpful.”

You could hear the man across from you release a humor filled snort before he spoke, “I’ll help you.” 

Your head raised at his statement, looking at him with hope. “You will?”

“Yeah, you seem like you could use it.” He smirked in return, watching as your whole demeanor changed.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” A sincere grin crossed your cheeks at the statement. 

--

Streaming sunlight illuminated the small living room of your house as you sat on the couch, fingers flipping through papers for the Formal. The TV hung above the fireplace quietly played some show to fill the silence, one you haven’t bothered to pay attention to. The repeating ‘Tik’ of the clock felt like it was pounding at the same beat as your heart.

An anxious sigh passed your lips as you jotted down a note to call some company about DJ-ing the Formal. You are honestly just trying to distract yourself from the nerves in your belly. Friday afternoon, before you left work, Din had suggested he come over to help with planning the Formal on Saturday, which you accepted. You know you should invite Omera over too, as she is the one who got you into this, but you really just want to spend time alone with Din; outside of school.

In all truth, the two of you haven't been alone together save for that rare moment in the teachers lounge, and the small talk you exchange in your classrooms. But you want to get to know him better. The man is mysterious, and rarely speaks unless spoken to. You notice that he hardly interacts with your colleagues, mostly just you or the Dean. It drives your curiosity, how secluded the new teacher is. 

A knock at your front door caught your attention, making your stomach drop. Swallowing, you set the papers onto the coffee table and stood up, padding over to the entryway. Pulling open the heavy slab of wood, Din’s handsome face came into view as he stood on your porch. However what you weren't expecting was his three year old son to be in his grasp. The child was asleep, his small face tucked into Din’s neck. 

“Hi,” You whispered breathlessly, stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a half grin and a nod as he tread inside, setting his satchel onto the couch.

“Sorry to bring him, my sitter dropped.” Din’s voice softened when he spoke about his son, “Is there somewhere he can sleep?” 

“Oh, of course, there's a guest bedroom down the hall and to the left.” You whispered, pointing to the area. Your colleague thanked you silently before disappearing into the bedroom.

You took the moment to compose yourself, puttering around the living room. You spent the entire morning cleaning, but still couldn’t help yourself from straightening a few items while waiting for his return. When his footsteps finally echoed back down the hall, you settled.

“Sorry, again.” He apologized quietly, grabbing his satchel from it’s spot on the couch and sitting down. 

“Please, don’t apologize, he’s allowed to be here,” You chuckled, dismissing his apology with a wave of your hand. The man thanked you with a soft nod, opening up the bag in his lap and pulling out a small binder.  

Din quickly jumped into work mode, focusing on the project at hand. The conversation died, both of you choosing to stay in silence as you worked on planning. Though you felt more inclined to remain silent due to his silence. The butterflies still haven't left your stomach, every time he would shuffle or clear his throat, they regained activity.

It felt silly to be so flustered over a man you’ve barely met and is also a colleague. There have been moments where your breath has literally caught in your throat at his sight. Someone even caught you doing it last week. You were walking by his classroom during your free period and couldn’t stop yourself from halting in front of his door and watching him teach through the small door window. It wasn’t until a student noticed you watching did you scurry along, heat radiating from your cheeks. 

Omera was aware of your crush, having spoken to you about him multiple times since the morning he started. Whenever she sees the man around school, she finds the time to gossip about it later.

It’s endearing that she’s invested, but sometimes you avoided her around campus for that very reason. You love the woman, but recently she’s been driving you crazy. Hence, why you didn't invite her over; besides your want to spend an afternoon alone with Din.

-

“Did you call the DJ yet?” Din’s low voice caused you to jump slightly, interrupting the silence that shrouded your living room. The two of you had remained quiet for about half an hour now, merely making small talk about the Formal here and there. 

It’s frustrating however; you want to get to know more about him, like, for example, where did he move from? And what did he do before teaching? Also, you had questions about his son, like his name, and if there is a mother figure in the picture? Yet, you can't seem to get the questions to form. 

“No, not yet.” You answered with a slight chuckle, dismissing the scare. You could feel his eyes studying the side of your face, only making the heat return to your cheeks.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” You then asked, setting aside the papers in your hand and standing up from the couch. Din shook his head, and you gave him a curt nod before stepping into the kitchen, out of his eyesight. Taking a deep breath to release the tension in your shoulders, you grabbed a glass from the cupboard before filling it with water. However, just as you were about to take a sip, you felt a slight tug on the bottom of your pants. Looking down, you met the sight of Din’s son. 

He is adorable, to say the least. He wore a little green, knitted beanie with bunny-like ears sticking out side to side, and was dressed in a tan jacket that was long enough to cover his body down to his feet. He looked up at you with dark brown eyes filled with tears, his bottom lip trembled as he was on the verge of crying.

Without a second thought, you set down the glass of water and picked the boy up into your grasp. He immediately tucked his face into your neck, little sniffles sounding from his throat. Rubbing his back, you made your way back to the living room. 

“Uh, Din?” You questioned, causing the man to turn around. His eyes widened for a second when he realized his son was in your arms, before jumping up and making his way over.

“What’re you doing up?” Din questioned, peeling the boy from your chest and settling him in his arms. The small child only sniffled instead of answering, pulling at your heart. The man didn't say a word, only holding his son tighter while tucking his head against his chest. He mouthed a silent ‘Sorry’ before turning on his heel and sitting on the couch. 

Following timidly, you bit your lip unsure what to do. Truth be told, you don't have much experience with young kids. Young teens and up? No problem. Elementary age and down? Well… you teach college for a reason. Growing up, you didn't have any cousins who were around. Your family lived across the country from your aunts and uncles; and to make it worse, you are an only child. Needless to say, you're not much help in the babysitting department. 

“Um, is there anything I can do?” You questioned, watching the man stroke his child's back soothingly. A pang formed in your belly as you thought about him doing that same thing with you, but instead cuddled in bed talking about your day.

“No. Thank you, though.” Din murmured, his dark eyes greeting your own for a moment. You nodded, joining him once again on the couch. Focusing back on your work, you figured that was easier than fawning over the man soothing his child. Even though you struggle with children, it’s hard to not be attracted to a man taking care of one. 

A quiet hum sounded from the man adjacent you, filling the silence of the room. Swallowing dryly, you tried your best to look at the paper in your hand, however his voice was too distracting. It sounded like a melody, one a parent would sing to soothe their distraught child. His low alto added warmth to the tune, and your chest. 

“I’m going to get a drink.” You quickly cleared your throat, standing up from the couch. You heard the man mumble something, but didn’t quiet catch what it was as you made your way to the separate space. Approaching the cupboard, you grabbed a glass before hastily filling it with water and taking a sip. 

Taking a deep breath, your eyes turned to look at the back of Din’s head. Butterflies stormed your stomach at the sight of his son’s head tucked into his neck; the boy’s green beanie acting as a pillow. The faint sound of his humming could still be heard from the kitchen, but it wasn’t as overwhelming from a distance. 

You finish the full glass before returning to the living room, deciding it was best to let Din get his son back to sleep; and to slow your beating heart. You don’t realize how much time had passed, but you notice that Din has stopped humming, Instead replaced by little snores coming from the child snoozing in his lap. 

“I’m sorry about the kid.” The man whispered once you sat down.

“I already told you it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, looking back towards him. He remained silent, his eyes cast down towards the child.

“I’m still new to all of this.” The man chuckled, but you could still read the uncertainty in his voice. He is a new father, which is scary by itself, but he’s doing it all alone. 

“Can I ask… What made you decide to adopt?” You formed the question carefully, unsure of how to articulate without your curiosity sounding like a jackass.

The man was quiet for moment before he finally spoke, “It kind of just happened.” He began, “Before working at the university, I was a bounty hunter. I mostly brought in criminals who had debts, traveling around the country in an old RV. Then, I got an odd job. I was tasked with finding a child and returning him to the client…” Din trailed off afterwards, his hand protectively settling on his son’s back. “They were going to kill him... I couldn’t allow it.”

“Oh,” You murmured, studying the side of the mans face as he stared down at the boy. It’d harded over the course of the story, voiding all emotion, the happening clearly still weighing heavy on his heart. 

“He’s gone mute from the torture they put him through.” Din added, his gaze greeting yours once again. A stale sheen of tears stained the bottom of his eyes, but he was quick to blink them away once you noticed. Your chest clenched at his words, sorrow filling your throat as you looked at the sleeping child. Three years old... and to have faced such horrors… 

“I fled with the kid after that. We’ve hidden a few places, but we ended up here back in August.” Din paused, catching your attention once again. “Greef hired me as the Astronomy teacher, aware of my situation. He’s an old friend.” His eyes held a shimmer of hope, though it was dim. Him entrusting you with this information felt exhilarating, but to hear of such things existing in the world seemed unbelievable. And who would have to heart to harm a child? No matter, you felt the need to aid him and protect his son.

“Din, I-” You paused to swallow, his soft, brown eyes peering into your own, “You can trust me.” You finished, reaching across the couch and gently placing your hand on top of his own. The warmth of his hands mixed with the cool touch of your own felt electric, sending your heart into a frenzy. The man didn’t respond, instead he adjusted your hands so your fingers intertwined.

“Thank you.” His voice was low, filled with sincere emotion. You didn’t dare look up into his eyes, afraid of sending your heart into overload, but you felt them peering at the side of your face. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

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

TAGLIST:  @snow30285​ @mack4676​ @remmysbounty​ Thank you for reading!! <3 <3 <3

[drlissahawthorne]

marked me like a bloodstain

Who: Clarissa Hawthorne & Charlie Hawthorne-Mills ft. Andrea Hawthorne-Mills

When:  Saturday, December 5, 2020

Where: Hawthorne-Mills home

What: Clarissa calls on the aid of her sibling-in-law to help her make sense of her jumbled thoughts from the night before.

Warnings: talk of past abuse

Word Count: 1650

Notes:  Part 3 of 3. Part 1. Part 2.

The first thing Clarissa did when she got to Andrea and Charlie’s place was take a nap. She’d spoken briefly with them about what had happened, figuring it was best not to worry them more than she was already liable to. Then, after she’d slept for nearly five hours, she’d set herself up in the basement recording studio, deciding she wanted to work through as much of what she’d tried to create the night before as she possibly could.

After about an hour of trying and failing to make sense of even a little of it, she called on Charlie. Charlie was a music producer and the kind of person who could understand the gibberish she’d come up with in her haste to dump out every part of her brain into words. Which is how the pair of them ended up sitting at the piano, staring at a cluttered mess of mismatched phrases across the multiple notes on Clarissa’s laptop.

“So, what exactly were you doing last night that this happened?” They asked with a soft laugh.

“Uh, I think they call it coping with trauma?” Clarissa groaned. “He was my last boyfriend, the guy that made me choose between him and my work.”

“Oh, and you ran into him last night?”

“Yeah,” She sighed. “It was a nice night and then I got home and it was like everything I’d tried to ignore and bury and move on from, came out. Like, I just couldn’t focus on anything else, and even then, I wasn’t entirely focused.”

“You’ve certainly come up with a lot in a short amount of time, it seems. Can’t say all of it will be worth something right now, but we can definitely feel it out, see what we come up with, y’know? I’m honored that you’re even letting me near this. I know you’re not looking to make music, but…” Charlie drug out the word and Clarissa bumped them with her shoulder.

“Don’t even go there. This is just me working through shit. If it turns into something worthwhile, then it does, but we’re not going there.” 

Charlie held up their hands. “I know, I know.”

For a while they just worked on picking apart different notes and rearranging them, creating new documents with better structure so that things really did resemble poems or songs, versus the madness that had spilled from Clarissa’s thoughts. Eventually, however, they managed to get it down to one document that they really wanted to dive into. It was still messy, but it had the first line that had really come to Clarissa in it.

“‘You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding.’ Good line, raw as hell too. So, tell me about this guy. Tell me how this came to be, what caused this?” Charlie urged with a soft smile. Clarissa’s face scrunched up, looking at the other words in the document, glasses perched on the end of her nose.

“So, we met in Pittsburgh, he’s a few years older than me, I wasn’t looking for anyone, y’know? I’d been kind of cast aside by every other lover I'd had. People not wanting to deal with the fact I was losing my eyesight. And he came along and he was sweet and caring and he made me feel wanted. Like I was someone’s favourite. Like I was his favourite. And We did all this stuff together and it was amazing. But, I was already hurt and I didn’t want to see that with every positive thing that came of our relationship, there was a knife marking me in such a worse way.” Clarissa shrugged a little. “He was horrible to me, but every time I doubted, every time I felt those insecurities pop up and I felt unwanted or unworthy, he made me feel amazing and wanted again. So I kept falling for it, for him. After every fight. Every unresolved argument. No one else really saw it, except for Jill and I refused to believe her. He was a typical abuser, if there is such a thing.”

Charlie just nodded as Clarissa spoke, copying and pasting and adding pieces to the document they were working on. They obviously had ideas and Clarissa found it absolutely enthralling to see them work. To see them in their element like this. Sure, they’d helped her work on the arrangement she used for the Riptide cover, but this was different. This was what they were really good at. Taking the bare bones of a song and fleshing it out. Making it grow and expand and become something real and tangible.

When they were done typing, they showed the screen to Clarissa. “This is what we’ve got, it’s a starting point. Let’s give it a melody and see where it takes us, yeah?” 

Clarissa looked it over, whispering the lyrics to herself, trying to get a flow for them. It was definitely something that needed to be slow, easy going. Melancholy in a melody. The idea of reminiscing, even longing, for something now gone and past. The pain of loss still lingering despite the years that had passed.

Before she could even really think about what she was doing, she was finding her bearings on the piano and then started playing one of the melodies she’d thought of the night before. It wasn’t the one that had been strongest, but it was the one that felt right. Like it was meant to along with whatever this song was. Something rather simple but complex in its emotions.

“To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed, you drew stars, around my scars, but now I’m bleeding cos I knew you, stepping on the last train marked like bloodstain,” Clarissa started to sing. It wasn’t a beginning. It didn’t feel like one, but it was definitely something. Something that she could work with.

“Let me see that,” she motioned for the laptop and Charlie handed it over, watching her type away. “So, when we met, it was this big event and I’d gotten sort of dressed up, nice shirt, heels, lipstick, and I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Pittsburgh, but there is an unnatural amount of cobblestone. And y’know, there’s this weird visual I have of that day, the sound of high heels on cobblestone, vintage tee, I’d literally sent someone the message ‘new phone, who’s this?’ I’m pretty sure. Like it was just this really vivid day in my memory, and not just because I’d met him, but that definitely plays a part.” Clarissa explained before hanging the laptop back, her additions at the top of the page.

“That’s really cool as a visual, actually, can you start playing again?” They asked as they looked over what she’d written. She obliged and as they moved along to the melody they started rearranging what she’d written, once again turning her stream of consciousness into something resembling song lyrics. They then started to add more. “I like this visual of clothing and memories. Is there anything about him you can tell me that could work with that?”

Clarissa thought for a while, scrunching up her face a bit, fingers still idly playing the notes of what was definitely turning into a song. “Drunk, late at night, dancing. Probably fall, so he was wearing jeans, and being silly, he’d joke about kisses being the fastest way to heal a broken heart, some days I think he was right about that.” She laughed a bit, watching as Charlie continued typing.

By the time Andrea called the pair of them up from the basement for dinner, they were bubbling with excitement. They had something that actually resembled a song on their hands. It wasn’t anywhere near finished, but it was far more than they’d had when they started and it made Clarissa feel a lot better, both about herself and everything that had happened since the day before.

“Well, you two have certainly been hard at work, haven’t you?” Andrea teased as they set the boxes of takeaway down on the kitchen table. “I figured I’d be nice and order takeaway, so we could do something together while we ate and before I lost you both to the basement again.” 

“Sorry, I know I came over to hang out and have barely seen you.” Clarissa apologised and Andrea just shook their head.

“Please, I haven’t seen you this excited about something since… Lissa, it’s been years. You weren’t even this excited when you got the job in Brooklyn. I’m just happy this is turning into something good for you. There will be plenty of time to hang out and do things when this is done. I mean, you’ll be back in here in two weeks anyway, and then you’ll be here for a week and we can catch up and do stuff then.”

“But, we really should be nice and play a game with them while we eat, what do you say?” Charlie smiled and Clarissa nodded.

“I think we can do that, might be a good thing to give our brains a break, right?”

“I certainly think so, but you’re the one with the doctorate.” They all laughed as they dished food onto plates and got settled to play a game.

Two hours later, all three would find themselves in the recording studio as Clarissa performed, for the first time in full, a song Andrea had helped dub ‘cardigan’ and for good reason. It was a start to something, what that something was, Clarissa didn’t know, but what she did know, was that Jill, and anyone else privileged enough to hear it, would definitely like it. Maybe not as much as she did, but they would. It sounded a lot like healing to Clarissa, and that was something anyone who knew her would be able to get behind, or so she hoped.

[lissahawthorne]

marked me like a bloodstain

Who: Clarissa Hawthorne & Charlie Hawthorne-Mills ft. Andrea Hawthorne-Mills

When:  Saturday, December 5, 2020

Where: Hawthorne-Mills home

What: Clarissa calls on the aid of her sibling-in-law to help her make sense of her jumbled thoughts from the night before.

Warnings: talk of past abuse

Word Count: 1650

Notes:  Part 3 of 3. Part 1. Part 2.

The first thing Clarissa did when she got to Andrea and Charlie’s place was take a nap. She’d spoken briefly with them about what had happened, figuring it was best not to worry them more than she was already liable to. Then, after she’d slept for nearly five hours, she’d set herself up in the basement recording studio, deciding she wanted to work through as much of what she’d tried to create the night before as she possibly could.

After about an hour of trying and failing to make sense of even a little of it, she called on Charlie. Charlie was a music producer and the kind of person who could understand the gibberish she’d come up with in her haste to dump out every part of her brain into words. Which is how the pair of them ended up sitting at the piano, staring at a cluttered mess of mismatched phrases across the multiple notes on Clarissa’s laptop.

“So, what exactly were you doing last night that this happened?” They asked with a soft laugh.

“Uh, I think they call it coping with trauma?” Clarissa groaned. “He was my last boyfriend, the guy that made me choose between him and my work.”

“Oh, and you ran into him last night?”

“Yeah,” She sighed. “It was a nice night and then I got home and it was like everything I’d tried to ignore and bury and move on from, came out. Like, I just couldn’t focus on anything else, and even then, I wasn’t entirely focused.”

“You’ve certainly come up with a lot in a short amount of time, it seems. Can’t say all of it will be worth something right now, but we can definitely feel it out, see what we come up with, y’know? I’m honored that you’re even letting me near this. I know you’re not looking to make music, but…” Charlie drug out the word and Clarissa bumped them with her shoulder.

“Don’t even go there. This is just me working through shit. If it turns into something worthwhile, then it does, but we’re not going there.”

Charlie held up their hands. “I know, I know.”

For a while they just worked on picking apart different notes and rearranging them, creating new documents with better structure so that things really did resemble poems or songs, versus the madness that had spilled from Clarissa’s thoughts. Eventually, however, they managed to get it down to one document that they really wanted to dive into. It was still messy, but it had the first line that had really come to Clarissa in it.

“‘You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding.’ Good line, raw as hell too. So, tell me about this guy. Tell me how this came to be, what caused this?” Charlie urged with a soft smile. Clarissa’s face scrunched up, looking at the other words in the document, glasses perched on the end of her nose.

“So, we met in Pittsburgh, he’s a few years older than me, I wasn’t looking for anyone, y’know? I’d been kind of cast aside by every other lover I’d had. People not wanting to deal with the fact I was losing my eyesight. And he came along and he was sweet and caring and he made me feel wanted. Like I was someone’s favourite. Like I was his favourite. And We did all this stuff together and it was amazing. But, I was already hurt and I didn’t want to see that with every positive thing that came of our relationship, there was a knife marking me in such a worse way.” Clarissa shrugged a little. “He was horrible to me, but every time I doubted, every time I felt those insecurities pop up and I felt unwanted or unworthy, he made me feel amazing and wanted again. So I kept falling for it, for him. After every fight. Every unresolved argument. No one else really saw it, except for Jill and I refused to believe her. He was a typical abuser, if there is such a thing.”

Charlie just nodded as Clarissa spoke, copying and pasting and adding pieces to the document they were working on. They obviously had ideas and Clarissa found it absolutely enthralling to see them work. To see them in their element like this. Sure, they’d helped her work on the arrangement she used for the Riptide cover, but this was different. This was what they were really good at. Taking the bare bones of a song and fleshing it out. Making it grow and expand and become something real and tangible.

When they were done typing, they showed the screen to Clarissa. “This is what we’ve got, it’s a starting point. Let’s give it a melody and see where it takes us, yeah?”

Clarissa looked it over, whispering the lyrics to herself, trying to get a flow for them. It was definitely something that needed to be slow, easy going. Melancholy in a melody. The idea of reminiscing, even longing, for something now gone and past. The pain of loss still lingering despite the years that had passed.

Before she could even really think about what she was doing, she was finding her bearings on the piano and then started playing one of the melodies she’d thought of the night before. It wasn’t the one that had been strongest, but it was the one that felt right. Like it was meant to along with whatever this song was. Something rather simple but complex in its emotions.

“To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed, you drew stars, around my scars, but now I’m bleeding cos I knew you, stepping on the last train marked like bloodstain,” Clarissa started to sing. It wasn’t a beginning. It didn’t feel like one, but it was definitely something. Something that she could work with.

“Let me see that,” she motioned for the laptop and Charlie handed it over, watching her type away. “So, when we met, it was this big event and I’d gotten sort of dressed up, nice shirt, heels, lipstick, and I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Pittsburgh, but there is an unnatural amount of cobblestone. And y’know, there’s this weird visual I have of that day, the sound of high heels on cobblestone, vintage tee, I’d literally sent someone the message ‘new phone, who’s this?’ I’m pretty sure. Like it was just this really vivid day in my memory, and not just because I’d met him, but that definitely plays a part.” Clarissa explained before hanging the laptop back, her additions at the top of the page.

“That’s really cool as a visual, actually, can you start playing again?” They asked as they looked over what she’d written. She obliged and as they moved along to the melody they started rearranging what she’d written, once again turning her stream of consciousness into something resembling song lyrics. They then started to add more. “I like this visual of clothing and memories. Is there anything about him you can tell me that could work with that?”

Clarissa thought for a while, scrunching up her face a bit, fingers still idly playing the notes of what was definitely turning into a song. “Drunk, late at night, dancing. Probably fall, so he was wearing jeans, and being silly, he’d joke about kisses being the fastest way to heal a broken heart, some days I think he was right about that.” She laughed a bit, watching as Charlie continued typing.

By the time Andrea called the pair of them up from the basement for dinner, they were bubbling with excitement. They had something that actually resembled a song on their hands. It wasn’t anywhere near finished, but it was far more than they’d had when they started and it made Clarissa feel a lot better, both about herself and everything that had happened since the day before.

“Well, you two have certainly been hard at work, haven’t you?” Andrea teased as they set the boxes of takeaway down on the kitchen table. “I figured I’d be nice and order takeaway, so we could do something together while we ate and before I lost you both to the basement again.”

“Sorry, I know I came over to hang out and have barely seen you.” Clarissa apologised and Andrea just shook their head.

“Please, I haven’t seen you this excited about something since… Lissa, it’s been years. You weren’t even this excited when you got the job in Brooklyn. I’m just happy this is turning into something good for you. There will be plenty of time to hang out and do things when this is done. I mean, you’ll be back in here in two weeks anyway, and then you’ll be here for a week and we can catch up and do stuff then.”

“But, we really should be nice and play a game with them while we eat, what do you say?” Charlie smiled and Clarissa nodded.

“I think we can do that, might be a good thing to give our brains a break, right?”

“I certainly think so, but you’re the one with the doctorate.” They all laughed as they dished food onto plates and got settled to play a game.

Two hours later, all three would find themselves in the recording studio as Clarissa performed, for the first time in full, a song Andrea had helped dub ‘cardigan’ and for good reason. It was a start to something, what that something was, Clarissa didn’t know, but what she did know, was that Jill, and anyone else privileged enough to hear it, would definitely like it. Maybe not as much as she did, but they would. It sounded a lot like healing to Clarissa, and that was something anyone who knew her would be able to get behind, or so she hoped.