#this is me trying to be bigger than my anxiety cos i love these people but im scared to socialize

[mostardently]

.

[yawneneteyam]

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter one — what's the dream?

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [1.7k].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. minor mentions of anxiety, foetus jamie.

masterlist ⎸ chapter two

2016.

THEY MUST HAVE LIKED you right? otherwise you wouldn't be back here again, for a chemistry test no other. yeah.. if they didn't like your audition, you wouldn't be sitting here again. yeah, that was it.

the air had gotten stale while you sat in the green room of some office building, on a floor number way too high with windows bigger than they needed to be.

it was your third time being here. your initial reading, the callback and now a chemistry test.

your agent hadn't given you much more information other than that. you knew you would be meeting the boy that could be playing your love interest, and that was intimidating to any fifteen year old. this was the first time you had ever been called in for a chemistry test for any project, you knew it was because it was a huge franchise, but it didn't make it any less daunting; if anything, it only made you feel worse.

you knew you couldn't sit there alone for too much longer before your anxious thoughts consumed you. everything was feeling wrong, your hair too tight and the plastic chair too uncomfortable. it was just nerves, but they had you on the cusp of trembling in your seat. the feeling of waiting was becoming overwhelming and if you weren't out of this room, you were sure you would-

"y/n l/n?" oh thank god.

you stood up quicker than you wanted to, almost tripping yourself in the process. with a mumbled 'hi', you were told to come into the audition room. when the casting assistant turned away you had to restrain yourself from screaming at yourself. what a fucking day.

you tried to brush it off and take a deep breath before you actually entered the room, your heartbeat was still beating at the same quickens pace regardless.

"hi y/n" your eyes scanned the panel before landing on the man who was speaking to you. james cameron sat at a small table across from where you were standing on your mark, with four other people, all casting directors and assistants.

"hi," faking your confidence was better than showing you didn't have any, "nice to meet you all," you tried to ignore the fact that the man who was responsible for making 'titanic' was a few metres away from you, but it was getting increasingly hard when he was watching your every move.

he hadn't been at your other auditions. trying to take this as another good sign, you swallowed the nerves bubbling in your chest.

"alright," another woman spoke up, "we're just gonna run through your sides from your last audition, and then we'll get started with the chemistry read. sound good?"

you nodded without speaking, silently thanking your agent for telling you to go over your old lines from your first two auditions. she always was right, you just would never tell her.

"okay," james quickly pulled a few pieces of paper from the pile in front of him before looking back up at you, "whenever you're ready,"

you took a few seconds, looking at the ground before starting your scene.

"where are you going?" i asked panicked, my breaths heavy.

one of the casting assistants read the lines in reply, not giving you anything to work with. "no where you need to worry about". the point of reading sides is to see how you work with a monotone scene-partner. they want to see what you can give on your own.

"I know you're going to see them," you reach your arm out, "norm," grabbing nothing and stopping in your tracks. "I know you're going to see jake" you whisper.

"sai'ak I can't talk-"

"take me" you plead.

"you know that-"

"norm, please" you move your arm, showing norm has shrugged off your hold, "please, I need to see him". Moving and using the space around you, you were there, in pandora, with norm.. not in some room with james cameron.

"your parents will never allow it"

"they don't need to know," the urgency in your voice was cut-throat, pained.

"I am not taking you away from your clan, you are the next tsahik." you close your eyes at their words, "I'm not going to be the one held accountable for taking you away from your clan, even for a little while"

"norm, I want to go," you start to feel your throat closing up as tears well in your eyes, "max, please" you whisper.

"I'm sorry kid, but you can't come" you let go of the breath you were holding on to, envisioning them walking away from you.

You hesitate to respond, looking around the room in panic. the reality that you might not get to go with them settling in. "he is all I have," you cry, the first tear fell, then another, and another. "please" you swallow the lump in my throat, "please take me with you".

"alright, thank you" the voice of the casting assistant brings you back and out of the scene. you quickly wipe your tears and make your way back to the mark on the ground.

"now," james looks around the table bringing another piece of paper from his pile, "let's start on the chemistry read.. jamie?"

you had failed to notice the entire time that there was a boy sitting in the corner of the room, a script in his hand. he looked around your age, quite tall and well built. his hair was brown and from far away you could see the blue in his eyes. "jamie is playing neteyam" james told you as you watched him walk over to you.

"nice to meet you," he stuck out his hand for you to shake.. he was british.

"you too," you were too concerned with how the panel thought your scene went to give him a full smile. jamie could tell that you were nervous, he felt your hand shaking slightly when yours met his.

"you alright? he asked quietly as he turned onto his mark.

you hesitated before nodding quickly, "yeah," you whispered, "just freaking out,"

"you'll be right," jamie reassured you softly with the nod of his head, "your last scene was great, you'll smash this."

you felt your chest become a little less tight with his words, "thanks."

"okay, so this scene is very vulnerable for these two. it's set in the start of the film where we really get to see a more child-like side to these two characters, who always have to be the strong, mature ones" james spoke. "it's one of my favourite's honestly," he confessed, "so, we'll go from the top- try and make it feel as natural as possible" he explained to you. nodding in response, you checked your mark before smiling up at jamie.

"whenever you're ready"

"skxawng," you spat at jamie, pulling him closer by his ear. jamie worked with you well, moving his head so you didn't have to actually pull him toward you. he hissed in response.

"that hurts," he winced. jamie hadn't adopted a na'vi accent like you had chosen too. you felt a little insecure about your attempt now that you knew he wasn't doing the same.

"good," you didn't change it though, you kept going with what you thought was right for sai'ak. "that is point," I crossed my arms, backing away from jamie. "what do you think you were doing, huh? you are a spotter neteyam, you don't belong on the ground."

"I know!" he stressed, "but I wasn't going to let un'su go down there alone, you know how he is"

"you cannot keep following your brother into danger," you shook your head, "we're kids! you know that right? we are not warriors, we are children"

Jamie's expression softened, "sai'ak," he sighed reaching out for you.

"no," you shrug him off, "I am tired," you admitted. "I know you have responsibilities, neteyam" you met his eyes, "but, we are just kids. you are not the leader of this clan yet, you do not need to act like it all of the time, yes?"

Jamie's eyes met the floor for a while before meeting yours again. "yes," he nodded, "I am sorry,"

"you do not need to apologise to me," you take a step closer to jamie. before you had the chance to think about it too much, you sigh and rest a hand on Jamie's cheek. he shakes his head whilst looking at the ground, leaning into your touch slightly. "you do not need to a mighty warrior all the time.. you know that?" before jamie could say his line, you cut him off with one that felt right, "you can just be neteyam." you smile at him softly.

jamie exhales through his nose as a laugh, "not everyone sees it that way". you were both completely off script now, but it felt natural, so you kept going.

"I see it that way," you tilted your head with a watery smile, tears glazing over your eyes. "I see.. who are you are, neteyam" jamie looks at you like he knew what you were going to say to him, he takes this and runs with it.

he hesitates before speaking, "I see you, sai'ak."

I laugh softly, taking your hands away from his face. "you must have hit your head very hard," you go back to a line from later on in the script.

"yes," jamie chuckles, "but I know what I am saying,"

you stop in your tracks, jamie towering over you. you look up at him and he holds your gaze. "I see you, ma' neteyam" I whisper. jamie smiles, resting his forehead against yours. you close your eyes, allowing your characters to drink in their moment together.

"alright, thanks guys," you and jamie quickly broke apart from each other, claiming your own space once again. "really good," one of the casting directors nodded, "y/n, thanks so much for coming in. we'll be in touch with you over the next week or so regarding the part," you nodded with a smile.

"thanks so much," you exhaled a big breath, feeling a weight fall from your shoulders now that you had finished. "nice to meet you all," you looked from the panel to jamie, who was smiling at you. he nodded and let out a small 'you too' before you left the room.

"she was good," James kept his eyes on the door, where you had just closed it.

"yeah, I liked that one" one of the women on the panel agreed.

"how did that feel jamie?" James asked him, looking up at the young boy.

"good," he nodded, "really good. she was great"

taglist. @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @graysonshaven @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz 

[hcfiles]

Let's see if you have the guts to answer me. Why? I just wanna know "why" are you doing all this? What motivates you to open 3 accounts to shit talk a celebrity you never met? Did he do something to you on a personal level? If not why do you care about his personal Life so much? You call him all kind of ugly things from weak/insecure/immature to idiot/emotionally damaged while stalking/harassing him and his gf for what? 3 years? You call them bullies but the only bully I see is you. You are insecure about your "opinion/assumptions"...that's why you open a new account every time your last got reported, you obviously need validation from other people. You need them to agree with your crazy little rants. So who is the insecure one? Your entire page screams "I have too much time on my hands....Im going to create a hate page for a celebrity because I lack self confidence and a social life myself"! And btw Im not saying you cant have your opinion on him, hes a public figure but some people go way too far and you are one of them. We live in turbulent times, why arent you putting your focus on more important things? If you hate Henry now, cool let him go and move on. There are way bigger issues in the world than Henry's dating life...let the man do whatever he wants, its really not your business. And when people want to support him, let them. We dont care about bs rumors with zero proof, what we care about is his work.

Henry himself admitted he has issues showing his feelings btw, he is a introverted Person! He doesnt hide it. And yes I believe he has anxiety just like many many other people and you shaming and belittling him for it is disgusting. Idk why you do this but maybe start looking at your own behavior before you point fingers at Henry and Natalie. I would suggest you to find happiness for yourself, get a hobby, go outside...let things go that no longer make you happy. There are so many celebrities, go find a new one to obsess over. But you know Hollywood is a toxic business dont you? With the Diddy files coming out and many celebrities getting exposed...there wont be many celebrities left to stan. Henry is a saint compared to them. But why arent you exposing them? the real criminals, s3x trafficking, child abusing satanists/p3dos...doesnt matter to you I guess. Get your priorities straight Girl because even if you are right in some ways what does it matter? Henry is the one who has to live with it not you, not me or anyone...him. There are many PR relationships in Hollywood, nobody in the Business cares if his relationship is real or fake because Hollywood is fake as a whole, its run by p3dos and criminals. The fact that Hollywood doesnt like Henry much should tell you everything you need to know.. he's not one of them. He didnt sell his soul, didnt lose his values ( according to someone who knows him) He stays out of there as much as he can. Im not saying hes perfect but people who actually know him, people who work or have worked with him only have good things to say about him. He has done so many good deeds.. He donated 1 million to earthquake victims, secretly paid for an actor and his friends meal, he saved a co-stars life from drowning, he sends wrap gifts to everyone on every single project he works on and much more and he never brags about these things. You obviously dont see other celebrities do you? because many of them brag about everything they do on social media. And last but not least, you dont work in a toxic business like Hollywood, you dont know what its like and what he's been through. I have seen the Witcher smear campaign thrown at him but nothing with substance or actual proof, the sources are always anonym. The cast and crew came out praising Henry debunking most of it. There are higher up people who would love to see Henry getting cancelled in order to save their own a#$es. They have been trying but obviously cant find anything on him so why do you think you can? When even Hollywood insiders cant? Have you ever seen someone directly accuse him of something? Mistreatment? Abuse? Ever? And im talking about a legit source not the anonym bs....! Gina recently spoke about him and she only confirmed what we know since years.. that he is a real Gentleman, a beautiful, passionate, kind Man. Go ask anyone he worked with, ask them what hes actually like and they will tell you he's a great Guy!

Wow! I see I touched a nerve. Apparently, I'm in the right direction to have you write a manifest. Well, to answer some of your questions, so it's OK to do what I do, as long as it is with another celeb? And, Henry is untouchable? Hum. Interesting. You suggest us to find something else to entertain us. Well, this shenanigan entertains me. This is how I chose to spend my free time, entertaining with the circus Henry is performing. But, you seem hurt to have people disagreeing with you. Different opinions threaten your beliefs. So much, you wrote a manifest. Who is the insecure? If all I write is bullshit on a personal blog, that won't make any difference in Henry's life, minion.

[open-hearth-rpg]

#RPGaDay2024

An engaging RPG Community

It won’t come as any surprise I’m going to mention the Open Hearth Gaming Community here. 

I (edige23 aka Lowell Francis) took over as community manager, under this community’s previous identity, back in mid-2019. I’d already been acting behind the scenes, as the go-to person for GMs and in some work started at the beginning of the year to fix some issues with the community. I won’t go into why the previous manager stepped away. 

The community had already changed my life– introduced me to people around the world, giving me a chance to play with tons of different gamers, giving me the confidence to try out new hacks & games, making me a better game facilitator, and providing me with many, many new friends. I’m a chronically shy person. Unless I’m in a social situation with a clear, defined structure– I have a really hard time. It’s something I’ve known about myself and tried to work on (joining groups, doing improv, theater, etc). 

So I would go to RPG conventions to run and feel absolutely terrified and sick to my stomach before each run. But being part of the community, feeling validated for my skills, talking with new folks helped change that at least a little. I remember the first con I went to where I didn’t feel that crippling anxiety. It shocked me. 

When I took over we looked to have more open discussion with the community and implement changes/ We worked through and revised our Community Code of Conduct back in 2020. I learned a lot about what mattered to people and we worked hard to find ways to support everyone. I’ve loved it when initiatives come from the community itself. 

For example, at the start of the Pandemic in 2020, a discussion started about what we could do to support people. We knew that many folks would be cut off from face to face gaming. At that time many people hadn’t played online, didn’t understand what it involved, or had a negative view of it. The suggestion arose that we could undertake something to help show folks what it involved. 

That started what’s become our Shared Hearth Open Gaming events. It would be a free online ttrpg convention aimed at new folks. We would offer one-shots so people could easily try out online play and see best practices. It would also allow us to show off great games, many storygames, which could easily be played online with basic tools. 

And it would be free– completely volunteer run. That was important to folks. We wanted to make sure we lowered the barriers as much as we could. While we would be introducing folks to the community, we also made that a strongly secondary element. We didn’t want it to feel like an opportunistic recruitment drive. We’ve done a bunch of these events since then, bigger and smaller, and folks have stepped up to contribute each time. 

Other initiatives came from the community itself. We talked about ways in which we could serve often marginalized players or those suffering economic hardship. That led to the Open Hearth Gameway. People in the community started doing GM support camps, which has led to ongoing Game Facilitator Camp workshops for new and veteran GMs alike. We also do a yearly podcast surveying community members’ favorite games. There’s lots more. 

While there’s some “gaming discourse” which happens here– more often than not it's about games we’re playing, games we want to play, advice for running & playing, and celebrating cool things at the table. 

There’s lots more for me personally. Playing online with Open Hearth in its various forms moved me away from an insular community of players. It has changed me, I know, for the better. And it allowed me so many experiences I wouldn’t have had otherwise. More than anything the community has been able to support people and give them a place. 

Many of them eventually move on when they find their own, stable ttrpg groups. Some head off to form parallel communities with a particular focus. I think that’s great. I don’t want a cult of personality community– I want one focused on play. And in that way it should support play of all kinds, even if it isn’t with us. 

I’ll admit I’m a little sad when I remember someone I played with who I haven’t seen for a while. But I’m happy when I see they’ve found a group, post their plays, talk about games they’ve developed, and seem to be in a good place.

It's bittersweet.

If you're interested, sign ups for our free online event (Sept 5th to 8th) opens tomorrow (8/20 at 1200 US Eastern)

[nothing-suspicious-in-there]

Slightly more dramatic than necessary for what we know so far, but still, maybe it will finally deliver on some more Good Koga Trauma as I hoped it would, to make this drama look more appropriate.

The way this is going has the potential to address a number of less-than-ideal things that i had an issue with in this manga, even if nothing big enough to make me stop reading a story I understand to be casual:

After the renewed attention given to Koga not studying, and then this I start to have hope that I can engage with this story on a slightly higher ground than just cute gay fluff. (Slighlty, it's still a romance manga not fucking. utena or something. but my expectations are so low nowadays that the co-occurrence of something I like also being decently written is akin to a miracle to me.)

So I'm not raising my hopes too much, but potentially these things would be real good if they happened (so Incredibly basic I feel dumb by typing them out like it's complex analysis, but again my bar is low):

Small setups

First of all a number of things that happened casually in the last few chapters seemingly without much bigger significance about them or seemingly solved could be leading up to this and make matters worse.

We have Koga having a dramatic moment of being jealous of herself. All very irrational and silly. But it's clearly been shown to be rooted in trauma (that again I hope it'll explore better to give it more weight than it currently has, it's very vague and not well defined enough to keep up these moments of drama as effectively as it should.) This clearly serious moment for her is created and resolved in the span of 3 4-pages chapters, barely anything.

Many previous plot points that have been raised simply get "resolved" extremely quickly and/or easily like this one, or her social anxiety, her feeling of not belonging, her bad grades, aya fearing koga will relocate. In an episodic story where the author is not concerned with exploring stuff or giving it time to stew or a realistic length for its resolutions. it means the story is just like that, it's a matter of what you like and want to write. And I personally don't enjoy this episodic-ness as much as the alternative.

In a story concerned with having satisfactory earned resolutions and a long development, those issues are shelved for later use, and given the last chapters I'd really hope the author is showing that she's writing the latter type of story, since it's what I prefer. Having a dramatic moment with Koga and then telling us it's resolved in .5 seconds without exploring it deeply just feels like a missed opportunity for me and I'd love if this and other small details would come together to do just that.

The fact that her social problems are resolved so anti-climatically is. fine for a casual story, but it would be more juicy if they were not solved as easily as just her hanging out with a couple more people, since the story is also trying to sell me that these issues are pretty bad and somewhat traumatic in nature. Maybe this will go somewhere more interesting now that it's getting de-shelved, and hopefully it wasn't supposed to be a neat and tidy resolution before.

The last fer chapters also has a very small undercurrent that I could have done without, specifically something like that small aya remark on how she likes Koga in the girls' uniform while knowing full well Koga's not into it (not Aya's fault, but also not ideal to say to a butch lol), or the fact that Koga's clearly-serious-if-still-irrational-and-obviously-dumb fear on how she's not really why aya keeps hanging out with her was "resolved" by being dismissed as a dog whining for attention. I myself made Mirror Dog Comic jokes literally the second i finished chapter 76, the story doing that joke themselves was funny and Koga's hilariously wrong ofc, but also huh, then the dog joke went on for like 3 chapters and idk. With how it was all framed it doesn't give off the best respect-for-the-character-vibes specifically because it's also framed as the result of some serious issues.

I always thought that this manga, unlike some other stuff, kinda give the impression it respected its butch character enough, or butchness in general, none of that "haha let's give the butch character girly clothes and laugh at how uncomfortable they are lol" manga loves. She does dumb shit and is called out for that, but she feels like an actual person, neither a complete dumbass nor the coolest person on earth. Recently though there was this slight movement toward "what a dumbass" in a way that doesn't feel earned and clashes against the subtext of why she's acting like that, this or the thing with aya just randomly saying she likes her in the girls' uniform were kinda strange. I'd really like if this is less of a falling into bad habits with depicting butch characters and more a setup for what'll happen after the end of this chapter, adding to the pile of things thanks to which Koga will feel misunderstood.

The premise

Another thing that developing her trauma does is solving an half-issue that has been there since the start of this manga and is kinda a problem of this type of premise unless you do a really good job at making sure to solve it. When you're writing a standard romance story where two people are, more or less, still supposed to get together in the end and You the audience are supposed to Want them to get together, it's important to not write the story in such a way that makes the audience Not want them together. And when you're writing a story where one of the person, knowing full well they're doing this, lies about significant aspects of themselves and who they are while also trying to pursue a non-casual relationship with them either platonic or romantic with no sufficient excuse about why they're doing it, you're writing one of the two people the audience needs to be on board with being together just. Being an Asshole. Full stop.

Especially if they know the other person have a crush on them, they see each other in another setting (school) and have no indication to believe they are not straight, but that last thing would make no difference about them still lying. Unless you give that character enough of a reason on why they can't but do that, if they have any freedom to not lie to who they want to be friend and/or partner with, they are fullstop an asshole who you don't in any way want to get together with the other person in the end. (I'm talking about normal romance plots and their audience, not toxic romance stories and their audience, which by definition need the opposite to happen to get the story they want ofc).

All manga I previously read with the same premise as kinioto had this issue, which honestly I don't think it's that wild to understand and correct, but apparently it is lol. So kinioto fortunately is at least miles away better in this regard for a number of reasons, but it's not exactly perfectly ideal either because while it does try to set up an excuse for koga to act this way and it's technically a solid one, for now it has been expressed in very vague and wishy-washy ways that don't sit as well with me.

We have an entire bonus chapter about Koga being bullied for her gender non-conformity with Ryhthm B, which would give her a very solid case against being an asshole (she's just a temporary and involuntarily one.) If the issue is that she was very afraid that, by saying the truth, aya would not care to keep being friends and would had no reasons to keep to herself Koga's gender-nonconformity, so Koga was afraid of the consequences of the whole school knowing, plus the story telling me there's trauma in there, her lack of any other platonic relationships and loneliness, general self-worth issues, being Gay(tm) and wanting to interact with aya, but also still looking only for a platonic relationship (or it'd be way way worse to justify), and being a teenager with no idea about what she's doing, it's a reasonable amount of leeway.

None of this excuses Koga from lying to Aya but it does paint a picture of her not Being an asshole, just accidentally acting asshole-y, which give her the opportunity to stop not too long after they become friends, repair the damage and do better later.

Another thing it does right is that Aya is Pissed when she finds out, and for good reason. It's still kinda eh that she's doing a 180 so quickly after the school concert and I'd have preferred if she had more time to reflect but still, at least the story says it was fucked up and aya is obviously angry at being lied to constantly by someone that knew she had a crush on them and that Aya thought Koga was a guy but said nothing while pretending to be said guy. There was no romantic relationship previous to this, they were just starting to be friends, and Koga asks her to start anew with their friendship after doing something she was terrified of doing as goodwill. Works fine enough in these circumstances.

Given it's very crucial that one of your protagonists doesn't become an asshole accidentally while you write it's important for Koga's motivation to lie to be sufficient to bear the weight of this premise. And until know she only vagued about being afraid Aya would not want to be friends with her, a very dumb thing to say since if you're lying 1. she's not actually friends with You, 2. she won't want to be friends once she eventually finds out, and if she's in the position of not finding out she's barely a friend, more like a casual acquaintance. The reasons Koga gives to why she's afraid of saying the truth doesn't do enough to escape the asshole allegations, it's either she's an asshole or she's Dumb of Ass in a way that's not well-written trauma induced and it's just random Idiot Ball induced. As I said Rhythm B thankfully starts to give a solid reason on why she would want to lie, but while I can infer it from there, this is too crucial of a point to leave only as a subtext sorta-text vague contradictory thing, and I need it to be fleshed out more so that it's unmissable that that's the reason she's lying, and that said reason is solid. If now there'll be any exploration of her issues we may be getting this clarity that would retroactively solve this half-issue for me.

Ok I'll stop typing about shit we don't even know will happen, peace

[schmem14]

20 questions for fic writers!

Thanks for the tag @maesterchill! Read their answers HERE.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

My stats tell me that I've written 50, but 5 are multi-chapter collections, so... a lot. Yeah.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

733,820. If you asked me three years ago if I could ever write that much I would've laughed in your face. Isn't growth amazing?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Harry Potter (though I do read some Good Omens, Carry on Simon and Bagginshield stuff)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

UGH. I don't want to be honest here, since 2 of the five are Dramione fics I've now listed as ANON because of harassment reasons. I'll give you the NEXT five instead ;) 1. 93 Diagon Alley (Harry x George) They were roommates 2. HP Cocktober 2022 Collection (Multiple) Prompt fest 3. Solace (Harry x George) Unhealthy coping mechanisms (sex) 4. When Malfoy Met Granger... (Draco x Hermione) WHMS remake 5. Mistletoe, or Die F***ing (Harry x Fred x George) Self-explan.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I try to, because the BEST part of sharing is connecting with people who enjoy what I've done. Community, ya know?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Mastermind (Draco x Hermione, Draco x Harry, Draco x Ron, Ron x Harry) The worst UHEA I've ever inflicted on y'all is this Dronarry fest 2023 story. Dark stalker Draco goes off the rails in the end. It's a masterpiece, I'm so proud of it.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

From Sunset to Star Rise (Harry x Ron) Cozy fall vibes, falling in love, little to no angst (Ron has a tiny bit of anxiety, that's all)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. Mainly the bigger ship ones (Dramione, looking at you) If you're wondering WHY I write rare pairs a lot, it's because rare pair fandom is a safe space with AWESOME people. We may be few in number, but WE GO HARD and LOVE HARDER.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

ALL KINDS (though I'm not great a fluffy smut). Check out my HP Kinktober Collection 2023 posting daily RIGHT NOW. It's very kinky and dark.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

The closest I've come to crossover is more like "inspired by a vibe." I wrote a Community (TV Series) inspired paintball fic here: All's Fair in Love & War & Paintball (multiple ships)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, BUT I've had people post me on Goodreads. Read my thoughts on why this is bad fandom etiquette HERE

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had many requests, but no one has followed through yet.

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

No! But I'm interested in this concept, especially if the co-author is someone I vibe with.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

STAWP. It's too hard a question! Lately, I'm obsessed with Dronarry, and any combination of those three. I also think I'm more in love with stories than ships. If it's an amazing story I end it with "OMG this is the BEST EVER" and I say it about a lot of ships.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'm writing a multichap Drarry fic where Draco is a wandmaker, and it's falling in love fluff. I'm terrified to write them because I feel like I'll get torn to shreds because the Drarry fandom is too amazing for the likes of little old me. I'll just read Drarry and call it good, and MAYBE I'll get the courage to finish someday.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ideas. I'm chockful of ideas. Also, I read a ton, so I think the more you read, the better you write.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fluff. I HATE writing fluff. Why is it so hard?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't typically do it because I'm monolingual and don't want to fuck it up. I don't mind when others do it

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

How to Care for Your Monster Book: A Guide by Rubeus Hagrid  (Hagrid x Monster Book of Monsters) Y'aaaaaallll... I have no regrets about this fic. It's the only fic I've ever written that is perfect, I'll never top it, it's just so funny and weird (like me).

Tagging: @the-francakes @mugsdontlie @swoontodeath @vukovich @mintawasalreadytaken @peachpety @nv-md @lumosatnight and anyone else who wants to

[nonbinaryhatboxghost]

8:00am. I successfully socialized for a while last night. Had some good Korean BBQ, caught up with some folks I haven't seen in a month or so, then I went home.

I'm going to try and write a longer entry here because I've been doing these brief scattershot posts that almost certainly don't convey a positive mental state. Which, to be fair, is accurate.

I'm not at my best lately. I've had difficulty finding energy for things outside of work because my new position (I've been in this position for almost three months and yet it still feels new) takes a lot out of me. I'm dealing with constant questions/clarifications from co-workers on a specific project that I was assigned to be the new expert on, I'm dealing with more consistent interactions with upper management, I'm staring at multiple computer monitors for hours every day (I have blue light glasses, so that helps a little), and while I'm no longer isolated in a screening room for 8 hours a day, I'm still working in a windowless room.

I have a retail therapy problem. I've definitely already talked about this, but I love physical media. I've been collecting CDs since I was in elementary school, DVDs and Blu-rays for almost as long, and lockdown finally made me cave and start collecting vinyl. And the thing about physical media, particularly vinyl these days, is that there is always a new thing to acquire that's only going to be available "for a limited time." So my already collecting-happy self goes into overdrive trying to acquire whatever new shiny disc relevant to my interests is about to be released. Today it was pre-ordering the Best Buy 4K SteelBook release of (the incredible) Prey and the mail-order exclusive "They Live" Blue with White Splatter variant of John Carpenter and co.'s upcoming album Anthology II (Movie Themes 1976-1988).

Now, do I genuinely want and enjoy these things? Hell yes. I was floored by how good Prey was, and I am still shocked that Disney has decided to start releasing some of their streaming titles on physical media. I am also a huge fan of John Carpenter, and own almost all of his music in one form or another.

But these are also not solutions to my current, to be honest almost-always-present problem: I feel isolated.

I have full brain servings of depression and anxiety. I became aware of the former maybe a decade ago, and discovered the latter was a bigger problem than I thought after I had my first(?) panic attack at work a few years ago. I've been in therapy since 2016, I've taken meds since 2018. I am doing better than I was, but despite all of the progress that I logically know that I've made, I feel stuck.

I've tried asking for help outside of therapy, but part of the problem is that despite being someone who wants/needs more attention and affection from folks, I have an instinct to isolate myself in order to not burden others with my problems. I've been fighting that instinct to mixed success. I suspect that I've isolated myself in this regard for so long that now a lot of folks don't really think of or invite me to hang because they're possibly under the impression that I don't want to interact with them. Or maybe it's the standard people growing apart thing. Or (and here is what the depression monster tells me) they find me boring/depressing/annoying/pathetic/etc.

Another thing is that I'm newly polyamorous. I'm currently seeing one person, who has needed to take some time for themself for a variety of reasons. I understand and respect that, even though I wish I could do something to help outside of leaving them alone for the time being. I also miss them. Part of the point of polyamory is not putting all of one's emotional eggs into one basket, and I'm always open to new connections. But with how I'm doing lately, I'm getting trapped in this vicious cycle of wanting to connect with someone because I want connection/attention/affection, then feeling guilty for wanting that and worrying that I only want connection/attention/affection as a distraction from how not well I'm doing, then my brain tells me that I shouldn't be with anyone until I've sorted all of my own stuff out and around and around it goes.

I'm a person, I have problems, and I don't want to put all those problems on another person. I once said to current partner that "my loneliness is not your responsibility." I still feel that way. But I also can't find a consistent solution or solutions to this loneliness.

I'm a very simple nerd. I like hanging out and chatting with folks, and I'm not opposed to going out and doing activities. But I don't really do things like bar-hopping or going to nightclubs. I'm very shy and don't really know what social space I'd be most comfortable in. Dating apps make me uncomfortable, and years ago when I was actively using them I had nothing but bad experiences. There's a local arcade bar that I go to for karaoke sometimes, which has been nice, but not really a space for making new friends.

I just don't know how to initiate hangs outside of movie nights. And despite watching movies with folks sincerely being one of my love languages, I know that can't be the only way I spend time with people. I'm open to new stuff, I just need help with the new stuff.

I'm looking into taking piano lessons for the first time since I was in 4th grade. I left the chorus I was part of a while ago, so I would like a new consistent music-related thing/structure in my life.

I have a close friend visiting next month and I'm really looking forward to seeing them.

I know that at some point next year I'll be traveling to wherever The Kingcast is hosting their next big event, and possibly with another friend who has recently gotten into King (and who has rapidly overtaken me in the number of King books they've read).

I'm hopefully remote-hanging with someone this week that I haven't gotten to hang with in a while.

And yeah, I have a 4K disc arriving in the mail today (The Nightmare Before Christmas).

I'm trying. I just wish I was getting better faster.

[ruminate88]

It’s the honest and hard truth that after all my toxic and abusive relationships, I married the first nice guy who wasn’t toxic… mostly cuz I was in survival mode and he was a safe tower for me to hide. My husband had opened arms for me and seemed genuinely upset that I had been sooo hurt. My husband told me that I made him feel good and he enjoyed being with me…. SOOOO, I felt like I had to snatch him up but like now that I’m trying to heal and get back to “myself” I’m like… lost.

Do we even have things in common? Do we really know each other and like each other?? I mean our families are both nice and somewhat big. My family is obviously way bigger than his and it overwhelms him and gives him anxiety 😓 I can’t help that I have a huge family AND my husband has social anxiety anyway. I do not. It’s frustrating that I’m a people person and he is not BUT I have trust issues so like I want to be around people but I’m guarded too…

I was in isolation when I met my husband. I was JUST coming out of my relationship with my ex Andrew who was emotionally abusive and yeah… I was a scared girl. I was crying in pain and my husband just swooped in to take me away from Andrew so yeah I felt sooo safe and protected which every girl wants that but us girls also want romance, chemistry, deep talks and vulnerability…..

idk how to express myself to my husband effectively without making him feel he’s not enough for me. Idk how to make him understand how badly my exes wounded me without making my husband feel jealous or upset. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to get my exes back and don’t care about my husband’s feelings. I’m terrified I’m gonna hurt my husband cuz I have an emotional barrier from my exes. I think about the past constantly cuz I’m traumatized and ive been working my butt off to get over it all. I write and read and pray and cry…. What more can I do???

yes I loved my exes so much and that doesn’t just go away for me!! Even tho my exes were abusive like I stilll loved them 😭😭❤️‍🩹 it sucks for me I can’t just not care. That’s not who I am. I love SOO DEEPLY.

I wanna be deeply crazy in love with my husband the way I was with my exes but he’s not toxic …. He has boundaries and isn’t a hopeless romantic like me. He’s a guy that works hard, eats and sleeps. That’s good but I wish there was more romance too but I can’t force it. It has to be natural. Idk I’m an overthinker and stay lost in my head most of the time. I need to focus on me and I’ve been trying this year to change and not be a caretaker or a people pleaser like I was in the past…

My exes made me co-dependent on them and breaking away from them has been hard. I was so focused on my ex Andrew’s needs FOR MANY MONTHS that I 100% neglected my own needs and that’s super toxic. Andrew doesn’t care about me but he became my biggest crutch. As long as I was with him, I didn’t have to deal with my own flaws. I could just focus on him and talk sex with him. Grrr Andrew talks good sex and I loved his body 🥵 and it was so much fun but it’s not love. It’s not what a healthy relationship is AT ALL 🥴😝❤️‍🩹🥺

I KNOW I gotta have a talk honestly with my husband but I’m scaaaaaared and worried it’s gonna hurt us both 😭

[satellite-evans]

My eyes, want you more than a melody

part 1 on the sunflower vol.6 series.

Pairing: Chris Evans x actress!reader

Summary: Chris enters your world full of songs and music.

Word count: 933 words

Warnings: anxiety, Chris being an idiot in love ( let me know if I forgot something!)

A/N: This is my first time writing a series. I am so excited!!! Please let me know what you think. All kinds of feedback and help are appreciated.

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any grammar mistakes.

Feedback and requests are always welcome. <3

This is an 18+ Blog. I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

series master list

main master list

Music is one of your biggest passions in life. Since you were a kid, you’ve wanted to become an actress, but always dreamed of exploring the world of music. The only reason you didn’t is that your teacher told you that your songs basically ‘sucked’. Those were harsh words to hear at a young age, but was life after all. You kept training to be a professional actress while the questions marks of being a musician were always inside your brain. Going on stage, hearing a crowd of thousands of people looking at you, singing your own written songs. A dream good to be true. You never stopped writing songs, but you stopped asking people for advice or their opinion on it. Your career as an actress was criticized enough, there was no need to put criticism on your writing skills too.

Your boyfriend finding your songs changed the direction of your thoughts and dreams.

He wasn’t trying to sneak in your stuff at all. After a long day of set, Chris was tired and longed your presence. Being in the makeup chair for too long and repeating the same lines over again was hard for him to take.

“Honey, where are you?” Trying to find you while his eyes were too close to fall asleep was not so easy as he thought. He went to you, hoping not to fall while doing so. He saw that your office door was closed and that there was a note sticking to it.

“ Broke my phone, so I’m out to buy a new one. So If you want to contact me, you can't :) If you’re not too tired, you can start dinner without me. Love you lots.”

-Y/N

He simply smiled sadly, sighing that he had to wait for your arrival. Chris went to his bedroom and sleep until you came, so that he wouldn’t look as tired as he was now. When he reached the room, the both of you shared, he saw a book on the bed.

Not a weird thing to see since you were a book freak and bought every week a couple of books that you saw on ‘Booktok’.

When he got closer, he saw that there was “Y/N’s World of songs” written on it.

Being a curious cat he is, he explores your world he never saw before. Chris couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you wrote hundreds of songs in your book.

Being mesmerized by it, he sang each song inside his head, trying to think of a melody that could co with it.

Page after page was written full of words that came out of your thoughts. He knew you were an artist and loved acting and painting, but this was something else. A part that you never showed him before. A reason for him to love you more. He looked and looked until he stopped by a song.

Sunflower vol.6

Feeling more intrigued than he was, he started reading the lyrics.

Sunflower My eyes, want you more than a melody Let me inside Wish I could get to know you

Sunflowers Sometimes Keep it sweet in your memory I was just tongue-tied

You were more than an artist in Chris’ eyes. It was so wonderful written that he actually felt tears in his eyes. The need to share this with the world grew bigger and bigger inside of Chris. I was like he had no other choice but doing so. Your songs were so brilliant that it was a disappointment if he did nothing.

He contacted the first person who came in his mind : Harry Styles.

Harry and you were very close friends since the day you met on the set of Don’t Worry Darling. He loved your acting, and you found peace in his songs, because finding it in your own songs wasn’t a choice. Telling him your songs and your anxiety to him was easier than you thought. Harry always empowered you to do something with it and that he would help you in any way possible. But you couldn’t do it, so you never shared your songs with him. Or with anyone else.

Harry never pushed you, not wanting to overrule you and destroy your friendship. He met Chris, and they became great buddies as well.

Chris knew that yours and Harry’s style and taste were kind of the same, so he knew his plan would turn out great.

Chris: hey buddy, Chris Evans here. I need your help with a big favor.

Harry: Hey mate, how can I help you?

Chris : I found Y/N’s book full of her songs and wondered if you could voice one of them trying to surprise since her birthday is coming soon.

Harry: You kidding me? I’ve been trying to find that book for ages. Happy to help you out. What is the name of the song you had in mind?

Chris: I was thinking of her song Sunflower vol.6. It’s becoming my favorite, and it’s fantastic. I’ll send you a picture of the lyrics.

Harry: Wow. Absolutely no words for her talent. I’m not sure if my voice would be as good as her lyrics, but let’s see how it will turn out. I’ll keep you updated.

After putting the book right where he found it, Chris left the bedroom with a lot of a great idea in his mind for your future. He wanted the world to witness your talent. With Harry helping him, he knew he would succeed.

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

[littlefreya]

Poison Honey

Summary: Everyone around you is too busy getting drunk and making out, while you are just dying for this dreadful Christmas party to be over. But just as you plan to leave, you catch the eye of a very hungry August Walker.

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (2nd pov)

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Passion, romance, sexual innuendo, a “thrill of the chase” if this may trigger anyone and mild alcohol use.  

A/N: Okay this Christmas drabble came to me in a dream a month ago, and I had to write it down but waited for today to post it. Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira​ who did my beta so quickly! 

Title: Poison Honey

Festive fairy tea lights were strung across the concrete office walls, resembling little flakes of gold over gloom and sparks floating from a pyre. Their aura lit fervent bodies clung together, shining over the grinding and touching figures as they danced to the upbeat Christmas carols that played in a volume so high you could hardly hear yourself think.

It was nothing more but a smouldering den of sin, an orgy of delights. 

Standing at a distant corner with a glass of spicy-sweet sangria pressed to your lips, you watched the massive hall, unable to take part in the sweaty horde that pranced around the golden calf.

You weren’t happy this time of the year, but then again, you never were satisfied. It’s not that life was mundane; it’s just that it existed with no meaning, and these sort of cheap thrills left you shaken. 

Because even though you wanted to take a chance and be that bad girl, deep inside, you knew you could never be one of them. 

A sigh left your lips. Waiting for the appropriate time to depart without having people talk about your introversion later, you downed your drink while deflecting the numerous attempts of Debbie from accounting to drag you into the fuss. 

It was then that you realised, you were not the only one standing alienated from the crowd. 

Funny, you’ve always assumed that a man like Agent Walker would be the first to go balls-deep in at least two women tonight. But he seemed far more enthralled in spying on everyone else and like he was having a good time watching everyone else fuck up.

His eyes burnt with blue flames that laved over many skulls before it slowly licked upon your sight. And as if you could feel both fire and ice ascending in your tendons, a shiver crawled down your back. Languidly, he traced your form. Stroking his moustache briefly, Agent Walker raised the glass of bourbon perched in his hand and gave a small tilt of recognition as if you understood one another though you’ve never spoken before. 

The last drop of sangria couldn’t quench the sudden dryness that formed in your throat. As your anxiety spiked, you did what you knew best and twirled your feet, pretending you had to go somewhere. 

Anywhere.

What were you so afraid of? Living? 

Squeezing the purse in your palm, you hurried to find the jacket left abandoned on your desk. Drunk and sultry, your co-workers swarmed every corner like zombies in a horror flick, and the sounds of passionate lovemaking reverberated through the corridors. Somewhere, in one of the glass-enclosed offices, two colleagues were indulging in a carnal dance.

Agent Walker was no longer in sight, still it resonated in your mind that he was stalking through every passage. Heat bubbled in your belly and between your reaching thighs, the tepid dew began to gather. Maybe you wanted to be chased... And perhaps you desired August Walker to catch you.  

Trying to brush these pesky thoughts away, you finally grabbed your coat and headed towards the exit. The calming warmth one feels when arriving at a shelter began to sink down your sternum. A few steps more, and you were to be safe.

But hope blew off like a candle in a ghastly wind. 

August’s shoulders were broad enough to block any way out as he stood at the pathway. His excessively muscular arms were crossed together, biceps so large they were bigger than your head. His steel-blue shirt looked as if it was about to pop and expose what you could only imagine as the epitome of virility.

The shuddering gasp that escaped you didn’t go unnoticed; he smirked with triumph before his eyes slowly levitated above your head and focused on the ceiling.

“Lucky me,” he chimed, his voice a low and melodic growl that felt like a claw cinched around your heart. 

Skin riddled with goosebumps you followed his gaze, the chill increasing as your mind already processed what you feared to grasp.

The mistletoe was hanging right over your head. 

August’s beguiling smile cut into his left cheek, darkness poisoning his lips. He made a large step forward, easily closing the remaining distance. Yes, you knew he was handsome, but up close, his beauty was ethereal: eyes like precious gems and a strong chin that made every other man look stale. His pouty lips parted as he looked down at you. A small flinch marred your face as he reached a hand to the small of your back.

“Will I get a kiss? Or will you doom me with bad luck?”

Thunderstorms struck the strings of your heart, and in your ears, you felt the throb. If August hadn’t held you in his arms, you would be on the floor by now as your legs wouldn’t cease their jittering.

Fear, desire, and the menacing anxiety of doing something completely outrageous toyed you like a marionette. Before you even realised it your mouth fell open and August leaned in, bourbon and candy on his breath. His whiskers and plump lips touched you first, brushing over so gently it was barely a kiss. Innocently he caressed your mouth before his tongue slithered into your hot cavern and tasted you with a devouring yearning. 

He crushed you; his hard pecs collided with your breasts, turning muscle and bones into a liquid thing for him to manipulate. As he pillaged your mouth, a guttural groan made its way down your entire body and ended fluttering at your womb. 

It felt empyreal, you wanted more. Melting into his steady form, you began to picture his warm body naked above yours, imagining what’s beneath his crisped shirt and ironed tie. You wondered of the size of his manhood and how these soft, lips would taste the plains of your body when he slowly broke the kiss, ending it with a tender groan that vibrated at your mouth.

Breathless, you stared at him, utterly distraught and hastily turning upset. Shame burnt white-hot, tingling across every living cell in your body. Not saying a word you pushed right past him and hurried toward the elevator. 

“Guess I’ll see you around...?” He asked behind you, with a definite victory in his voice.

Ignoring his remark you quickly disappeared to the elevator, thankful as the silver doors closed in your face and rescued you at the last moment. Your heart still rumbled in your chest as if begging to rip itself out and in your mouth lingered a honey-like flavour. 

Clueless fingers outlined the electric tingle over your lips; it was only a kiss, yet everything felt different after tonight. 

[votava-records]

Little Simz - I Love You, I Hate You

Lyrics :

I love you

I hate you

I love you

I hate you

I love you

So much I would give my life for this

 If the bullet was the beat I would probably die for this

 How many times did I cry for this?

I would hate myself if I didn’t at least try for this

 What’s at stake is bigger than me

 Blood tears how it stains can’t rid it with ease

 What we have in common is our pain we’re given the keys

 To unlock what it takes to fight for what we believe in

 Hard to confront the truth of what you see in the mirror

Some people you inspire and others you trigger

Fighting in blind faith led by the internal voice

You might not wanna do it but you don’t have a choice

Will the pressure take me to new heights or be my demise

Will my intentions coincide with what I advise

The people looking up to me doing everything right

But who am I to tell anyone how to live their life?

Your pain threshold will determine if you survive I’m amazed by it

Lying to myself pretending I was never phased by it

Maybe cos you’re in my DNA that’s why

I love you I hate you I love you

Sometimes I hate you

Always I love you

But right now I hate you

I love you

I hate you 

You made a promise to God to be there for your kids

You made a promise to give them a life you didn’t live

My ego won’t fully allow me to say that I miss you

A woman who hasn’t confronted all her daddy issues The day would come when you gotta find all the answers to your sins

Pressures of providing feeling unhappy within

Or what kind of external family shit up on your plate

But I understand wanting and needing an escape

Too much unsaid now the silence giving me headaches

Only through speech can we let go of all this dead weight

Even though I’m angry don’t wanna be disrespectful

Tryna figure out how to approach this in the best way

Hard to not carry these feelings even on my best days

Never thought my parent would give me my first heartbreak

Anxiety giving me irregular heart rate

Used to avoid getting into how I really feel about this now I see how fickle life can be and so it can’t wait

Shoulda been the person there to hold me on my dark days

It’s easier to stargaze

And wish than be faced with this reality

Is you a sperm donor or a dad to me and still

I love you I hate you I love you I hate you Always I love you But right now I hate you Always I love you I hate you

On this mission you live and you learn

The world don’t show you no mercy from birth

How do you humanise your hero?

Round here you're only respected if earned

Half hearted sorry’s cant let your guard down

To get to nirvana where do you start out?

Angry cos they don’t meet your unrealistic standards

Then you realise that they're human and you calm down

Sometimes I’m unbalanced and I think rah why am I losing my steps?

Lately I’m paranoid I feel my life is a mess I’m just using my voice hope it will have an effect

He was just once a boy I often seem to forget

Looking at Polaroid’s of pictures secretly kept You know what was destroyed but you don’t know what was left

Tryna phase out the noise of all you hear in your head

Everything is a choice and anything can be said Is you missing the point are you just hearing me vent?

Or is you in understanding knowing my words will connect?

I keep you in my prayers cos life is short as we know

Every mistake you make should contribute to your growth

What you choose to avoid will probably come in your dreams I’m not forgiving for you man I’m forgiving for me

And sometimes I love you

I hate you Sometimes

I love you Sometimes

I hate you Always I love you

I hate you I love you I hate you

[suicidalslasher]

forever & always. ➤ tom. h.

Happy Valentine’s Day~!!! I couldn’t contain myself and or stop myself from writing about my favorite Valentine’s day killer. So, here you go :)

WARNING: descriptions of gore and blood. in this one-shot, the reader’s pronouns are she&her.  i might make a part two of this, depending on how well it does. maybe not. i like how it ends, regardless. either way. enjoy.

The news spread like wildfire. No matter which way you went, there was always a flame, reaching out towards those to burn. Try as you may, you can't get away. The words that littered the air was nothing more than burnt ashes fluttering around, burning each object as it flies above said thing or said person. In this case, the people of a small town called Valentine Bluffs were the ones burning from the inside and out. They felt trapped within the smoke, unable to seek out which way to escape the dangers that had followed.   The terror; the trauma; the panic and anxiety attacks; All of it - they thought it was long gone.... they were finally going back to being normal, how things used to be. 

They were going back to a life that wasn't full of fear, having to look behind your shoulder constantly and being careful of who you trust. It was all going to be okay, happy once more. They'd finally be able to celebrate their favorite day once again.  But... as you may have guessed, it's not quite  easy to put out a rapid wildfire. All it takes is a small fire to expand out into something bigger, bolder, and scarier. You can't escape the flames. No matter how big or small. You cannot ignore the overwhelming burning sensation that  glazes across your skin as the fire around you grows larger, making you feel smaller and smaller by the second.  The words, however, the statement that was fluttering around like specks of ash,  wasn't at all a sentence (nor an actual fire)  but a name - Harry Warden.  1997. Valentine's day. Everybody, in & out of town, knows what happened.  For a brief period of time there, nobody celebrated Valentine's day, having thought it out to be cursed.  Yet, as time went on, there was no sign of Harry Warden. No copy cat killer version of him, neither. So, the people went back to celebrating. Writing hand written love letters,  buying cheaply made cards at the local supermarket, buying and or receiving overly priced chocolates. Anything, everything, people did it with  love in their hearts and a smile on their face.  Today was Valentine's Day, once more. Expect it wasn't the way it had been for the past 9 years. It was exactly like the day in 1997. History was repeating itself.  Instead of love, presents, and reserved dinner dates being celebrated and shared, the town of Valentine Bluffs  got decomposed, rotting corpses,  instead. Blood scattered outside and inside of buildings. 

  It was worse than before, more bodies were showing up without their hearts and the missing body piece would be found neatly placed in between a plastic heart shaped box. All of which would be sent to the police station as a joke, as  a threat.  Even a card would be taped on top or under the container, though the sentences were far from cheerful and loveable.  A few of them had been thrown aside, only having been read once. Those who opened it and read it aloud usually found themselves cringing in dismay  as they read the paragraph out loud all while  shifting around in their seat, uncomfortably.  

Once they read it, they shook their heads as tears welled up in their eyes before they threw it into the trash bin or ripped it into hundreds of tiny pieces, not daring to open another letter that's brought in. Evidence or not, the workers couldn't keep their breakfast or lunch down when they'd read the cards.  The recent two cards had said;  From the heart comes a warning, filled with bloody good cheer, remember what happened as the 14th draws near!  And the last victim, a girl named Maryanne Anderson, had gotten a card right before she was found dead, her body laying in a ditch to rot.  Her card had read; Roses are red, violets are blue, one is dead, and so are you.  Nobody knew who the new killer was, or if it even was a new killer, copying Harry's schemes and following in his footsteps.  It could have very well been  the same man all those years ago. That's what they were saying.   (Y/N) (L/N) was in her car, driving back home from work when her favorite song had been replaced with an alarm, cutting off her favorite part. "Oh, c'mon!" She groaned, hands hitting the steering wheel in annoyance  before she goes to turn up the volume anyways, wondering what's so important that the town and the police station had to turn off her favorite song. 

She knew about the murders, she knew there was a serial killer around, she already knew this already. And yes, she was petrified, as most people were. When the first body showed up, the mayor of town announced there'd be a curfew until they found out who is doing all of this. Whether it was one person or more, they'd find a way to capture the killer. No matter what. There was not going to be another murder.

 (Of course, there was more.) 

 (The original curfew was getting home at 9:30. Now, it had gone down and you'd have to be indoors, at your house, by 6:30 PM.)  Students in school would get out earlier, as well as the adults in town. The only ones who didn't get to go home so early in the day were those who were trying to protect the people of Valentine Bluffs.  "We are sorry to interrupt that song there," came the  radio host's deep and groggy voice. "However, this is more important than your favorite throwback jams. I've gotten an officer here with me, he had just shown up not even a second ago to tell us more news on the situation we are currently in. So, please, listen carefully."  "Yeah, whatever. I already know what's going on. Tell me something I don't know." (Y/N)  turns off the radio as she pulls up in her driveway, feeling a sense of comfort clouding over her, another day, she's okay; safe and sound, unlike a few of her old high school friends that were gutted like fish and butchered like pigs. 

She shivers at both the bitter and harsh wind brushing against her  as she steps out of her vehicle and the obvious visual of whatever masked man (or men) that's around, killing innocent people for whatever given reason.  Hurrying along the steps to her porch, she digs her keys out of her jacket pocket, finding them within seconds before she's pushing them into the door as quickly as she could. She didn't show it, tried not to show it, but she was as anxious and paranoid as everyone else was. 

(Y/N) was  trying to hold back her fear but the moment she gets home, locking all the doors and windows, the uneasy feelings creep up on her and every negative emotion takes charge.     With a sigh, she falls down onto the couch with a plop, reaching for the remote, she turns on the TV, attempting to try and get her mind off of things.  Of course, every station wasn't what she wanted to watch, the news replacing every channel.  She skipped and skipped but it all remained the exact same. With a groan, she decides to listen to what they were saying, even though she really didn't want to hear it as it'd only make her anxiety worse.  "I am Jonathan Godfrey. We're sorry to interrupt your daily scheduled programs, however, a man you may know as Tom Hanniger has escaped from his stay from a mental hospital."  (Y/N)'s eyes nearly budge out of her head at the mention of the man's name,  the remote she had in the palm of her hand goes flying, falling down onto the ground by her feet. Tom? Mental hospital? It didn't make any sense! Everyone... including her, thought he was dead! She, with shaky fingers, grabs the remote to turn the volume up.   Jonathan's own eyes were wide as he read the teleprompter, his voice now grew shaky as he spoke. Fear was written across both his and his co-worker’s face. "Unfortunately, we don't have any more information or news as to where he's escaped off to. Or where he may be as of the moment. All the reports, every last piece of information we have been received  has said he's been missing since two days ago.  He can be anywhere.  More importantly, he can be here, hiding out." His voice trembled as he spoke, it was also very faint - almost ghostly. Quiet as a mouse. His skin was pale, making it appear as if he was a ghost rather than a living person that sat in the chair there.  

 Jonathan couldn't continue, this much was obvious, therefore his co-host, Abigail Miller, continued where he had left off.    "This being said, please, lock the doors and windows of your home. If you have a weapon to guard your own life and protect your ground, get it out now. Please, protect yourself the very best you can. And do not, I repeat, do not answer the door. Do not leave your home whatsoever. Whatever is outside of your house is surely not more important than your life.  

“Whether it is Tom that has been doing this or not, we're not exactly sure. All we tell you is to be careful and remain indoors until we can find Tom and or find the Valentine's killer. This has been Jonathan Godfrey and Abigail Miller, with the news. Stay safe and God bless." The program that was previously playing showed up finally, the neon colors swirling together to form the title of the show, along with a fairly way too cheerful theme song playing faintly in the distance as the introduction played out. (Y/N) had never heard of it before, but from a quick glance, it appeared to be a sitcom from the late 70's.  The only source of light was coming from the television screen, casting colorful shadows across (Y/N)'s face. She had felt too tired to have turned on the lights upon entering her house. Work was short, the hours having grown thinner because of the curfew, however, it was still tiring all the same.  She instantly regretted not doing so now, however. 

She sat in the dark, her heart thumping loudly against her chest as she pulled a near by blanket around her shoulders as if the thick fabric would comfort her and protect her. The room had gotten colder ever since the report was announced. Goosebumps ran up and down (Y/N)'s body, the baby hairs on her neck stood on end as a shiver slid up and down her spine. Despite the blanket being around her body, she felt nothing but cold, numb. Suddenly, the TV went out with a soft 'ping'.    (Y/N) gasped and her heart stopped beating all together.  She felt like she couldn't breathe, she couldn't tell if she was going crazy either when she heard what sounded like  footsteps coming down from the hallway. She sat, frozen, on her couch, unable to move, unable to breathe.  Then.... a knock. Followed by another and another. It was right outside, coming from not the front entrance but the back yard. "(Y/N)? (Y/N), please..." came the voice.  ​​​​​​​And (Y/N) recognized that voice anywhere.  She knows she shouldn't.... everybody said not to but... she couldn't help herself.  Getting up as quickly as she could, she runs down the hallway, the sounds of her feet echoing against the thin walls as she reaches the door, tugging it open.   There, on the other half of the door, stood nobody other than Tom Hanniger himself.   He looked up, surprised she had answered the door.  Giving her a weak, lopsided smile,  Tom's pulling her into a tight hug, his head falling down in the crook between her shoulder and neck, tears flooding his eyes as he soaks her shirt, silently weeping. "(Y/N).... fuck, I've missed you so much, missed you so bad." Tom confesses with a sniffle.  "Tom... I- what're you doing here? They're looking for you, you know this, right? Everybody's looking for you. And.... and I- fuck, Tom! I thought you were dead. Everybody in town thought you died the day your father did." (Y/N) didn't hesitate to hide her true feelings. She was a mixture of emotions. Angry, happy, sad, scared - she was feeling every single emotion there possibly was. "I know... I know. I-I have a lot to explain and a lot to tell you but please, right now, can we just- can we just play pretend?" He asked, moving away from her shoulder as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater, his eyes remained watery and his skin was flushed as he looked up at (Y/N).  (Y/N) guessed it was a mixture of three things - running away from the mental hospital to where her house was to  the bitter and harsh February air. Plus, the crying he had just done, too. His face was red and blotchy from all three. Despite it being so cold, sweat trickled his face, a few drips of it falling along side his cheeks. "Play pretend?" (Y/N) echoed, tilting her head to the side, unsure of what he meant.  "Let's play pretend." He repeated, licking his lips. "Let's play pretend and imagine none of this horrid, crazed shit is going on right now. Let's pretend it's only me and you. It's Valentine's day, isn't it? Let's celebrate. After all, it was one of our favorite days to spend together."  Heat rose to (Y/N)'s cheeks and she bit on her bottom lip, rocking back and forth on the bottom of her feet.  "Tom.... I-I'm...You want-" She couldn't from sentences, her thoughts were mushing together and it was all too much for her to handle. She felt like she was going to pass out. "I want you, (Y/N). I want you as bad as I did then and I want you just as badly right  now. There has never been a day where I wasn't thinking about you. You were the love of my life. I still love you, maybe even more, now. Let's celebrate, please. We can talk about everything tomorrow morning. I promise I'll tell you everything.  Right now, let's play pretend, let's act like it's just us again, like when we were teens.... I've missed you. And.... and I know you've missed me too or else you wouldn't have opened the door." And, yeah, okay, he was right.  "Tom..."  "(Y/N)." He stepped closer to her, closer than he had done before, as he rests his hand against her cheek, fingers brushing against her skin as he looked into her (E/C) eyes.  "I love you. I never stopped. And I know you love me, too.... so, please, baby girl.... can I just show you how much I love you?" (Y/N) shouldn't have answered the door. She should have called the cops when she heard his voice. Everything was too much of a  coincidence. 

Her power was working perfectly fine until Tom had shown up. 

Now that she was thinking about it.... 

There was also no victims until she had heard the news Tom had left the asylum. Three days ago.... 

Three days ago, there was the first victim; Maryanne.  If she thought too much about it, got too deep into the rabbit hole, she would have assumed Tom Hanniger was the Valentine's killer - The Miner.  Yet... looking at Tom, she knew he wasn't - couldn't - be the killer. If he was, he would've killed her too, right? Tom Hanniger's been through too much, and just like she was there before, she was going to be there for him now. Through Hell and back.  

She would stay by his side, no matter what. She still kept the old promise ring he had given her in high school, along with the note in which he confessed his feelings. In which, he told her - one day - he'd marry her. She was the perfect girl for him, as he was the perfect man for her.  A promise is a promise. When she said 'forever and always', she meant that. (Y/N) knew Tom meant it, too.  "I love you too."   Tom's quick to place his lips on (Y/N)'s and (Y/N) is quick to kiss him back just as hungry, just as fierce. She tangles  her fingers through her hair and pulls on it, earning a groan from Tom. Satisfied with the result, she tugs him into her house by the sleeve of his shirt, slamming the door shut with her foot. 

"I've missed you, baby." He says, not daring to pull away from the kiss.

"Show me how much you've missed me then, baby." She mumbles against his lips. "Oh, I'm going to."  "Let's go celebrate Valentine's day the right way then. Come on, let's go upstairs."   Tom grins and  (Y/N) smiles back before she's pulling him up the stairs and into her bedroom. 

Forever and Always. It was them until the end. Nobody would ever separate the two of them, again.... not even Harry Warden was going to destroy Tom’s happiness... not this time.

[dreamofmysoul-tsc]

Elias Carstairs, Matthew Fairchild, and the Disease of Alcoholism

I’m very nervous about posting this but I think it’s important. 

Now before you guys scroll past this post, I’m gonna ask that whoever may read this take some time to hear from my perspective. I would like to preface this by saying that I do not know, nor am I claiming to know, what it’s like to face racism and prejudice everyday, nor do I know what it was like to be queer in a time that was less than accepting and terribly cruel to LGBTQIA+ folks. I will not be speaking about either of those things here, as it is not my place to. However, I do know what it’s like to live with an alcoholic. I do know what it’s like to have an alcoholic parent and I have seen what addiction does to a person and their family firsthand. 

Final disclaimer, I am in no way trying to attack or target anybody. All I am doing is providing my own perspective when it comes to the discourse surrounding Elias Carstairs and the differing opinions I have seen in regards to Matthew. I would also like to state that my experiences are my own, and are in no way reflective of every addicts’ experience or the experiences of their children/loved ones. Addiction affects everybody differently. 

I am also not a psychologist or a doctor; everything stated below are my personal experiences as a child of an alcoholic. 

Now let’s get started. 

CW for alcoholism, substance abuse, abuse in general, and death

Elias

When I first started Chain of Gold I didn’t anticipate how much I was going to relate to Alastair. Honestly, I didn’t have strong opinions about him either way; I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t love him either. That was until it was revealed why Elias was sick all the time, and what really happened during his mission. I have never seen alcoholism portrayed in a novel ever. I’m sure there are novels which talk about it out there, but I have never come across one. And for the first time in my life, I felt like somebody understood. There are countless characters in The Shadowhunter Chronicles who have touched my heart, but I will forever be grateful to Alastair and Cassandra Clare for making me feel like I didn’t have to hide anymore, that I was allowed to talk about my father’s alcoholism. Because for 18 years, it had been my secret. For my mother, it had been even longer. 

My father has been an alcoholic for my entire life. I’m sure this is common sense for most people, but an alcoholic cannot be a 100% good and supportive parent. Those two things do not mix. Most alcoholics are alcoholics because of shame, pain, or other mental health problems that they have not sought therapy for. I would also like to say that alcoholism is a disease. It physically alters the brain to make the addict believe that they need to drink just as much as they need to eat or sleep. When you are constantly drunk, it can increase stress or anxiety in everyday life and leaves the addict at risk of developing depression if it was not already there. Many alcoholics suffer with depression, general low self esteem, or various other mental health problems before abusing alcohol; these problems are then exacerbated with daily alcohol consumption. 

My father never abused us, mentally, physically, etc, and he never has. He carries a lot of mental pain and shame with him, which he has continually refused to seek help for. He drinks because he does not like himself; he feels that he isn’t deserving of help. He feels like he messes everything up. And as a child, I used to make excuses for him. “Well, he never hurts us, so what’s the problem?” “It doesn’t affect his work, so what’s the problem?” I was naive then. No matter how “functioning” they may seem, an alcoholic cannot live a completely healthy, happy, and fulfilling life if they drink everyday, even if it seemingly doesn’t affect their work lives. Alcoholics are very good at hiding their addiction. I cried when Cordelia described finding bottles in odd places, or when Alastair described how he tried everything in his power to hide it from his sister and their community. I used to find beer cans stashed under the kitchen sink. Sometimes I’d find them in the spice cabinet. I don’t like inviting friends to my house because I can never be sure if my dad will be 100% sober. I didn’t want people to see him that way. I don’t want to see him that way. 

I have seen a decent amount of posts on various platforms of people wishing Elias dead or wanting him to be completely x-ed out of Alastair and Cordelia’s lives. And while I totally understand the protectiveness many people feel toward Alastair and Cordelia whenever their father is involved (I love them to pieces, too), as somebody who is a child of an alcoholic, I do not and would never wish my father dead. The thought of it makes me sick. Thus far, we know very little about Elias and his personality. We don’t know if he has ever physically harmed Alastair or Sona. This is not to invalidate mental or emotional abuse either, which are just as terrible. And while he does seem to be biased towards Cordelia, which in and of itself isn’t fair, there has been little evidence to show that Elias is violent or abusive. Of course Chain of Iron could prove me wrong, but as of now, I don’t want to immediately assume that Elias is abusive. Alcoholism does not equal abuse, although alcohol can be an expedient to violence. I do not want to invalidate the Carstairs’ experience if that is the case, but I do not want to jump to conclusions either. Of course you can call me lucky because my father has never harmed us in any way. But personally, I find that insulting. When a parent is an addict, regardless of whether or not they harm their children or how involved they are in their child’s life, they will end up leaving their child with mental scars whether it was intentional or not. My father’s addiction and the addictions of countless others cannot be measured on a scale. Addiction hurts everybody it touches, no matter how normal the addict may seem to the rest of the world. 

I know this Elias section is already so long, but I have a bit more to say before I move on to Matthew. Alcoholics make choices, many of them poor choices. They decide whether or not to seek help. They decide to drink another beer. They decide to drive drunk, even if their child is in the car with them. It is a disease which completely takes over every single part of their life. And while it negatively affects their lives and the lives of their loved ones, that does not mean that they are undeserving of help. Any addict, whether they’re addicted to alcohol or heroin or cigarettes, anything at all, needs help. And they most definitely should not be mocked or attacked for their addiction or their attempts to get help for it. Regardless of whether or not they are in recovery or in the thick of their addiction, there is absolutely no reason to mock them. There is no reason to tell them to “just quit drinking.” There is no reason to call them a “junkie” or a “drunk,” no matter what stage of their addiction or recovery process they are in. 

I am in no way excusing Elias’ behavior just as I in no way excuse my father’s behavior. He [Elias] needs to be punished for showing up to a mission drunk and consequently being unable to keep those four Shadowhunters from dying. He needs to apologize to his children. He needs to apologize to his wife. And he needs to recover. Addiction is an ugly, ugly thing. It never just affects the addict. It leaves their loved ones with scars, whether they’re mental of physical. Personally, I can’t stand the sound of metal beer or soda cans being cracked open anymore. I’m terrified of getting married. I can never feel 100% comfortable or safe around drunk people. I refuse to drink. I don’t like thinking about how the only time my dad has been 100% sober was when we visited my grandparents for a week and he had no opportunity to slip away to buy alcohol. I don’t like thinking about how my mother has had to deal with this for decades. I want my mother to be happier. But I also want my dad to recover. Living with an alcoholic isn’t black and white; I don’t hate my dad. I hate his addiction. I love him. He’s my dad. I don’t like seeing him that way. I know Alastair doesn’t like seeing his father that way either. But no matter how much you scream or cry or fight with somebody, people will not change unless they themselves want to. 

Matthew

This section will be much more brief because many of my thoughts surrounding Matthew are similar to my thoughts surrounding Elias. I would like to touch on two things, however.

I have seen people talking about Matthew, or more specifically Matthew’s friends, saying that they don’t understand why they [The Merry Thieves and Co] seem to be ignoring Matthew’s alcoholism or aren’t doing anything about it even if they do realize he has problems with alcohol. Part of it is because of historical context; alcoholism wasn’t considered a disease until very recently, and the beliefs that alcoholics can either a) stop drinking whenever they want or b) are abusive, useless members of society still persist to this day. But the other, bigger part of it is relatively simple: people won’t change unless they believe they can change. Addicts need to want to change in order to begin the recovery process. You can’t force them to. If their heart isn’t in it, they’ll attend therapy or AA meetings a couple times to appease you, and then they will start drinking/using again. Or they’ll lie to you even more, telling you that they did attend a meeting or a therapy session when in reality they bought another pack of beer. Matthew will not seek help unless he believes wholeheartedly that he can change. He needs to believe that he is worthy of change and he needs to truly want to get better in order to begin to make significant improvements in his life. Of course relapses will happen, but the point is that he wants to improve his life. He wants to recover. No matter how much James or Thomas or Cordelia or Lucie tell him to change, no matter how much they want him to get better, he simply will not unless he wants to. It hurts. It really does. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. You can love somebody so, so much, but your love is not going to make them better. Your love will not magically make their addiction go away. To reiterate what I said about Elias earlier, you can scream and cry and fight and give them all of the love until you’re blue in the face, but if they don’t want help, they will not seek it out. Matthew needs help, but more importantly, he needs to come to the realization that he is deserving of that help. He is deserving of a successful recovery. Every addict is.

Lastly, there is something about Matthew and Cordelia’s relationship that has never sat right with me. Children of alcoholics are statistically more likely to get into a relationship or marry an alcoholic because it’s what feels “normal” to us. And while I have always wanted Matthew and Cordelia to become friends, part of this is the reason why I don’t want them to have a romantic relationship. I don’t want Cordelia to have to continue that cycle, never able to escape the effects of addiction. I want Matthew to focus on himself. I want him to recover. I want his friends to support him. I want both Matthew and Elias to have a successful recovery, because the amount of addicts who die from their disease every year is staggering and upsetting. Of course Matthew is deserving of love, but he needs to focus on recovering, both from his addiction and his trauma, before he puts all of his energy into a romantic relationship.

----------

Overall, I want Alastair to have time to be himself, to not have to carry the weight of his father’s addiction on his shoulders. I want Elias to recover and to apologize for how he has hurt his family, whether it was intentional or not. I want Matthew to forgive himself and to realize that he deserves to take up space in this world just as we all do. And I ask that you, whoever may be reading this, to try to feel a little more compassion for these characters and addicts you may know or meet in your life. Or to put yourself in their shoes and the shoes of their loved ones. We should not be mocking them, or hurting them, and we certainly should not be wishing death upon them. There are far, far too many addicts who have died because of their disease and their mental pain. When dealing with addicts or the loved ones of addicts, I ask that you try to support them and encourage them to seek help, whether it’s therapy or AA or any number of support groups. The effects of alcoholism and drug addiction will stick with the addict in recovery and their loved ones for the rest of their lives. Some days will be harder than others. But the important part is that, when those hard days come, they have a support system of therapists, family, friends, even people online to remind them why they are in recovery and to encourage them and their progress, no matter how small. An addict in recovery, no matter how slow or fast their progress may seem, is better than an addict who has died because they never sought out the help they desperately needed.

If you read through this entire thing, thank you! I really appreciate you taking the time to read through my personal experience. This topic is very important to me, and while I’m relatively new to tumblr, I still felt the need and the obligation to share my perspective. I’m not trying to sway your opinion of Matthew or Elias, just to maybe make some people think about this complex issue. If you aren’t a fan of either of them, that’s totally fine. If anything, what I would like you to take away from this is to be more aware of alcoholism and its effects. If something doesn’t seem right, speak up. I will be providing resources below if you or a loved one needs addiction counseling or help, or if you simply would like to learn more about this. If you have anything to add to this, would like to share your opinion, or have a question for me, feel free to reblog or message me in my ask box. Please be respectful, y’all! This is a sensitive topic and it affects everybody differently; I want this to be a civil discussion, not a witch hunt.

Thank you very much for reading and considering my point of view. 

Resources:

What is Alcohol Use Disorder?

SAMHSA (a helpline)

Alcohol Rehab Guide (this website also includes educational resources and a helpline)

Substance Abuse Helplines and Treatment Programs

How Parental Alcoholism Affects Children

[written-on-the-trees]

Do You Have A Name, Or Can I Call You Mine? - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Word Count: 2550 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Colson gets the phone call he'd hoped for, and more. There are more bad pick-up lines.

Where else can you find this: Ao3 | Wattpad

Colson grinned down at his phone, unable to hide the expression when he saw the screen light up from another message from Rosie, knowing full-well it was another cheesy pick-up line.

 She sent one every on her lunch break, usually when Colson was just getting out of the apartment they were renting for the week, and he always sent one back. It was a bit dumb - real high-school childish shit - but he'd be lying if he said he didn't fucking love it, if only because it was an excuse to talk to Rosie.

 They hadn't had a chance to talk on a call yet; they seemed to have opposite schedules, with her finishing work around four in the evening, just when his day was really beginning, and he was still passed out in the morning before she started work at eight. Still, he didn't think they went more than twelve hours without messaging each other, and he liked her enough that he'd even mentioned her in passing to Casie when they'd spoken, telling her the story of how he'd met Rosie

 His daughter had rolled her eyes and told him not to embarrass himself and more than he already had with his bad pick up lines, only to be horrified when Colson told her Rosie found him funny, and had some awful pick-up lines of her own. The faux-fear on Casie's face as she'd whispered that now there were 'two of them now' had made him laugh so hard his jaw hurt...and gave him a little bit of hope that he and Rosie could make something work.

   MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I would take you to the movies, but they don’t allow snacks.

That's what the kids are calling each other these days, right? A snack?

  Woman, I am thirty years old.

I have no idea.

  God I feel old. I called someone a hunk the other day, and Grace actually asked me what I was talking about.

  Oh yeah? Was that someone me?

  I couldn't say.

   It was a pretty standard chat for them - but it still gave Colson butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

 After a few days of messaging, the bad pick-up lines and chat had progressed into flirting, and now both of them were dancing around each other, trying to work out how serious the other one was...at least Colson was. He'd admit, it was a little bit weird to be the one feeling like they were chasing, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it. He was second-guessing what he messaged to her, over-thinking about what she messaged him, and generally giving himself anxiety over manning up and just telling her he wanted more than exchanging texts.

 Logically, he knew it shouldn't be that hard; he'd literally been speaking for her for four days, if she told him to fuck off, then it wasn't like he was losing someone who'd been in his life for years. It shouldn't be this hard to just say what he felt. But everytime he typed it all out, he ended up deleting it.

 He'd stopped even trying.

   If you say so. Honestly, I've got other worries.

I lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you tonight?

  I know you can't hear me, but I just groaned. Audibly.

The kids I have in detention are so confused.

   As stressed as he was over confessing his feelings to Rosie, that was enough to make him chuckle under his breath. The juxtaposition of Rosie, the badass looking woman he'd met at a venue bar, and Miss Barnes, the secondary school history teacher, was utterly hilarious to him. He just kept picturing her standing in front of a whiteboard in her fishnets and leather miniskirt every time her job came up...and whenever he got into the shower.

   Sorry, Miss Barnes.

  Fuck off.

   Chuckling, Colson slid his phone into his pocket and let himself into the studio he was recording at.

 He was determined to finish early today; he might not get done by four, but he was hoping to get out in time to ring Rosie before he went out tonight. Maybe he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he truly felt, but that didn't mean he didn't want to speak to her. If anything, he was hoping hearing her voice might give him the kick in the pants to come clean.

 He was keeping his fingers crossed.

      MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I know this is a bit short notice, but can we call?

  Yeah, course. Everything okay?

      Colson waited to see if Rosie would message back, only for her number to flash up as she skipped messaging just to call him.

   "Hey, you alright?"

 'I'm good. Friday's are rough.' Rosie sighed, sounded exhausted, even though it was only quarter past twelve: 'For once I didn't have anyone in detention so I've locked the door and now I'm hiding in the cupboard at the back of the classroom.'

 Colson let out a low whistle: "That does sound rough."

 'It's not that bad. I stuck an old desk chair in here and I have a phone charger and a bar of chocolate.'

 "I meant the fact that you're hiding in a cupboard, but I'm happy you're happy in there." Colson snorted, hearing Rosie chuckle softly in return: "What on earth did the kids do to drive you this insane?"

 'Ah, it's just the time of year. No-one wants to pay attention on a Friday, and next week is the last week before they get a week off for half-term, so all the kids have turned into monsters. Well, bigger monsters than they usually are.' Rosie sighed, before audibly cheering up: 'But I didn't call to bitch about my job; I called because I wanted to speak to you. And because I think I have found the best chat-up line ever.'

 "Oh yeah?"

 'I am going to complain to iTunes about you not being this week's hottest single.'

   Colson laughed so hard that Rook poked his head through the door of the kitchen, looking confused. Colson shook his head, making Rook raise his eyebrows, only backing out when Colson flipped him off with his free hand.

 He was definitely going to bother Colson about this later, the nosy little shit, but for now Colson couldn't bring himself to care about anything other than the way Rosie was laughing at her own joke. It was fucking adorable; she sounded so happy with herself for making him laugh, it made his chest feel a little tight. She was literally the best thing to happen to him this year, and he was already so attached that he didn't want to lose her.

 The sudden realisation made him bold - he couldn't keep chickening out of talking to her. He had to tell her how he felt.

   "I mean, that's good. So good I'm not sure mine is going to stand up to it."

 'Well, we'll never know if you don't say it.'

 "Wanna grab a coffee...because I like you a latte." Colson took a deep breath: "I suppose, to make up for it not being as funny as yours...I could tell you it's a serious offer?"

   The only response was silence.

   Colson was ready to take it back, only for Rosie to clear her throat: 'Like...a date?'

 "Yeah, like a date." Colson agreed: "I mean, it doesn't have to be coffee. We could go for dinner; there's this cool restaurant that's meant to be good, or we could go do something fun, or - "

 'Dinner would be nice.'

   Colson's heart stopped.

   She agreed to dinner. She agreed to dinner!

   "That's great!" Colson swallowed, feeling the same anxiety that Rosie sounded like she was feeling, and wanting to get away from it and focus on the excitement building in his stomach: "Because you know what’s on the menu? Me 'n' u."

 Rosie groaned, but he could hear her trying not to laugh as she did so: 'That was so bad...but it was also amazing, so it's a date. Literally.'

 "It's a date."

 'I can't wait.'

 "Me either. I'll see you Friday."

      Goddamn...

   Colson saw Rosie before she saw him, standing just inside the front door to the restaurant they'd agreed to meet at, all lit up by the soft yellow-white fairy lights strung that hung in a curtain against the wall behind her. She looked like a fucking dream: in a modest black dress that she somehow managed to make look scandalous, the material hugging every inch of her, even though it covered her from neck to wrist to just below her knees. With bright red lips and scarlet shoes, Colson wasn't sure he wanted to share the sight of her with all the other guys in the restaurant. He was already half-ready to punch the dude at the front desk, who was staring at her ass while her back was turned to him.

 Instead, he quickened his pace. The sooner they were seated, the sooner that guy could fuck off and eye-fuck some other woman.

   Even though he was pissed, the look on Rosie's face when he opened the door was more than enough to calm him down: "Colson! Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious."

 Just like that, the anger was replaced with laughter: "Damn it, that was good. You keep making jokes like that, and I'm gonna think you're a campfire - because 'cos you’re hot and I’m going to want s’more."

   Rosie laughed, and allowed him to pull her in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tightened his around her waist. He made sure to glare at the dude who'd been staring at her ass, even though he was now looking utterly disgusted by their exchange of cheesy pick-up lines, but mostly he got distracted by the smell of Rosie's perfume. It was a new one on him, but he was pretty sure he was already addicted to the muted citrus and almost peppery smell of it.

 They reluctantly pulled apart - and Colson was thrilled that Rosie seemed just as reluctant as he was - but remained in contact by holding hands as they walked up to the little podium thing, where ass guy was currently looking down his nose at them.

   "Do you two have a reservation?"

 "Yeah, for two, under the name Baker." Colson smirked, watching the guy's face drop.

   Colson felt no remorse.

 Ass guy called over a waitress and asked her to show him and Rosie to a table upstairs, before telling them to have a good meal. Rosie smiled, albeit coolly, making Colson wonder if she'd been aware of the jackass staring at her earlier, but Colson just smirked. He wasn't usually a dick to people; he'd worked at fucking Chipotle, he knew he wasn't better than anyone, but this dude was just asking for it. Colson wrapped an arm around Rosie's waist as they walked away, letting everyone in there know exactly who she was here with. They could eat their hearts out, he was the one lucky enough to get to sit down to have dinner with her.

 Just the thought was enough to make Colson smile.

   Rosie smiled back: "Oh, wow. Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"

 "Damn." Colson reached up to cover his smile with his hand, even though it was widening: "That was good. Not as much as the Lucky Charms one, but still good. Almost makes me wish I didn't ruin it by hating my smile so much."

 "I try my best." Rosie winked: "And your smile is cute!"

 "Almost as cute as you." Colson winked at her watching her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

 Despite her blushing, though, Rosie wasn't lost for words: "Smooth."

 "Yeah? How's this for smooth - are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours."

 "Not bad...but not as good as roses are red, my face is too, that only happens when I’m around you."

   Colson laughed.

 Normally he liked having the last word, because the only thing he was more than mouthy was stubborn, and he wasn't ashamed of that...but something about going back and forth with Rosie made it more entertaining to just let himself stop looking for the next thing to say and just enjoy being truly present. There was no pressure from her for him to be edgy or sharp-tongued. Although she did seem to like him when he was, she also seemed to like him when he was spouting lame chat-up lines and being a dork.

 It was impossible to put into words how good it felt to be able to relax. There weren't a lot of people Colson could let his guard down around, but in the short time he'd known her Rosie had already become one of them. With her, he felt like he could talk about what he was doing, without worrying that it was going to get back to someone it shouldn't or end up on the internet.

 They talked about what he was doing in the studio, about her least favourite class to teach and how much she dreaded the last lesson on a Friday when she had them, about their family and friends and what was happening with them. Not once did Colson worry about anything he was saying or think about censoring himself. Nothing felt like stilted or forced - with Rosie, Colson was so engrossed in their conversation that he ordered and ate on auto-pilot, barely noticing anything other than Rosie. It was like she was the center of the universe tonight, and Colson couldn't keep his eyes off of her. It literally took the waitress coming over to ask if they wanted the cheque for Colson to realise that the restaurant was almost empty.

 The waitress was all too happy to let them pay, hurrying them out the door as politely as possible, hovering as Colson helped Rosie into her jacket, and wishing them a goodnight as they headed for the stairs. They got out onto the street, standing close to the window to let the city pass them by as they spoke.

   "Thank you for a really nice night." Rosie smiled: "The thought of this literally kept me going this week, and it was the best night I've had in a long time."

 Colson felt his heart start to pick up, even as he tried to act onfident: "I'm glad it lived up to your expectations...I'm also glad you've been fantasising about me."

 Rosie laughed: "You wish. Maybe I was just thinking about the dessert."

 "In fairness, that passionfruit cheesecake you had was fucking amazing." Colson laughed back: "I'd dream about that."

 "It was the best...well, except for you." Rosie smiled, her voice softening to something sweet and genuine: "I had a really nice time tonight, Colson."

 "I did too. Honestly, I think you might be the best thing to happen to me all year...so, at the risk of ruining all of that..." Colson tailed off, leaning down to pause with his lips an inch from Rosie's: "Can I borrow a kiss? I swear I’ll give it back."

   Rosie closed the gap herself, leaning up that last inch to press their lips together.

 It was amazing.

[geralt-of-baevia]

Happenstance

Summary: Henry is about to go to bed one night when he suddenly gets a text from a random number he doesn’t know. What happens when you accidentally text the star actor of The Witcher? Memes apparently. Lots and lots of memes.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Lizzy Moore)

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: None...yet! Just some fluffy flirting. Well okay and lots of mention of his crotch? 😬😘

A/N: So I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my brain for a LONG time and finally pulled the trigger and wrote it! It’s in texting format, and I hope you like it! This is my first time posting fan fiction on here so I’m nervous and excited!

Beta: Thank you to @avengeful-bunny​ for being my AMAZING beta. I don’t know what I would do without you. 💛💛💛

Tagging: I’m going to tag all those whose work has inspired me to write and post my work! Much love to ALL of you! @littlefreya @dancingwendigo @mary-ann84 @yespolkadotkitty @viking-raider @cavillhoney

Part 1: Oops.

(405:) God, girl. You will not BELIEVE the day I had. I'm pretty sure I lost a pint of blood today from how many times I stabbed myself sewing. 

(405:)

(Henry:) You should probably get a thimble for that. 

(Henry:) Also, I do believe you have the wrong number. Considering you started the text off with 'girl' and I am quite the opposite. But even so, please spill the tea. I’m dying to know about this UNBELIEVABLE day you’ve had. 

(Henry:)

(405:) Oh my god, MR. CAVILL I AM soooo SO SO SORRY. I must have accidentally clicked on your name and not my friend's name. 

(405:) I feel really awkward having your number when you don’t have mine. Do you want me to delete it? Just to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Also so some random crew member doesn’t have your number?

(Henry:) Oh god, please call me Henry. There’s no need for such formalities. And it’s fine, there’s no need to delete it. Since you mentioned crew and sewing, I'm assuming you work for the costuming department? 

(Henry:) Also, I have your number now, don't I? :P

(405:) By it’s fine do you mean this kind of fine?

(405:)

(Henry:) Oh no, it’s LITERALLY fine. I promise. 

(Henry:)

(405:) But to answer your question, yes! I work for the costuming department. I’m newer, so I get to do the usual stuff. Mostly just lots of mending at the moment. And JUST TO BE CLEAR, I won't do anything to abuse this number since you're Henry Cavill.

(405:) And you’re Henry Cavill. Also you are my co-worker, my I’m assuming super rich, god tier co-worker that I’m not supposed to make eye contact with nevermind TEXT. 

(Henry:)

(Henry:) But yes, my name is Henry. Please keep my number, we’re coworkers after all, it’s normal for coworkers to have each other’s numbers. Have we met on set before? 

(405:) We have once or twice, just in passing mostly. Once I brought you clothes to your trailer.

(Henry:) Are you the one with the brown and pink hair? 

(405:) That's me. :)

(Henry:) Don't tell me your name, I know what it is. 

(405:) Are you sure about that? You don't seem too confident :P 

(Henry:) I know it starts with an E. Is it Eloise? Eleanor? I know it was something old fashioned, too.

(405:) Man, you're so close. I mean, kind of. Think of historical dead English queens. Like, for example you were best friends with her dad. You were a fancy Duke who was good with the sword and ladies. Also, I’m sorry, aren’t you supposed to be a big nerd?  

(Henry:) ELIZABETH! 

(Henry:) And I am a HUGE nerd thank you very much. 

(Elizabeth:) Yes, that's my name haha. Also, whoa whoa, settle down there cowboy.  

(Elizabeth:) And it’s just Lizzy, with a Y. The thought of spelling it with an IE makes me cringe. 

(Lizzy:)

 (Henry:) Pretty much everyone? Who doesn't call you Lizzy? 

(Lizzy:) My dad, my grandma, my teachers, my victims, my doctor, the one girl in high school who hated me. 

(Henry:) Haha that's quite the list there Lizzy Borden. I think it’s your turn to settle down. :P

(Henry:) Well then Lizzy with a Y, it's nice to finally talk to you, even though it's over text. 

(Henry:) So I have to ask, I take it they were cracking the whip pretty hard in wardrobe today? 

(Lizzy:) You know, I was doing what I thought was a pretty damn good job of avoiding that subject.

(Henry:) Nope, you can't slip past me. This brain is like an iron trap. 

(Lizzy:) If you MUST know...

(Henry:) I really do. I'm sitting on the edge of my seat in anticipation. 

(Henry:)

(Lizzy:) Okay well that just sounds sarcastic. I don't HAVE to tell you... :P

(Lizzy:) I'm kidding, kidding. Well, since you MUST know, I spent at least half of my day mending clothes, particularly the crotch of multiple pairs of your pants. Also a few pairs had the butt blown out. 

(Henry:) The crotch?

(Lizzy:) Yes, the CROTCH OF YOUR PANTS HENRY. :P Honestly I'm used to it at this point though. It's not the first time, or I'm assuming the last, that I'll have to mend the crotch of your pants. It’s not your fault the studio wants you in tighter fitting clothes that can show off how muscular you are. It’s just my job to fix it. ;) 

(Henry:) I guess I never really thought about who it was having to mend them when that happens. 

(Lizzy:) And it’s not just your crotch area I mend, it’s your inseams as well. I think your thighs got a little bigger since the initial fitting. :P

(Lizzy:) And yes, us little people taking care of you famous movie stars, making sure you stay looking like the heartthrob you are. Since that is your job and all. :P

(Henry:) Hey now, I’m more than just a pretty face. You make me sound like a talentless hack. But thank you. For your sake I'll try and not blow out any more seams, especially the crotch. 

(Lizzy:) You don't need to thank me, it's literally my job. ;) 

(Lizzy:) I mean, if your muscles didn’t rip through clothing on a regular basis I’d be out of a job!  How rude.

(Henry:) Well I mean in that case I COULD make it a habit. ;) 

(Lizzy:) All I have to say is I’m SO glad we don’t have to worry about shirt buttons on you during this. I’ve seen the stress you put on buttons during press junkets. The anxiety I feel, Henry. So much anxiety.

(Lizzy:)

(Henry:) Yeah, those shirts never seem to fit my chest right. I taught myself how to sew buttons on my shirts so I could stop asking others to help. 

(Lizzy:) Okay, the fact that you taught yourself how to sew on buttons because it’s a CONTINUING issue is both hilarious and adorable. :P

(Henry:) 

(Henry:) So I’m curious about something, costume wise.

(Lizzy:) Yes? I’m sure I can answer, costume wise. ;)

(Henry:) How long does it take to sew together a shirt from scratch? 

(Lizzy:) Well, it all depends on the type of shirt, and what it’s for. For the sake of film, there are so many steps. Design, pattern making, grading, construction, fitting. That’s just a fraction of it. It’s a very long process.

(Lizzy:) But if I was at home making a shirt for a friend, I could do it start to finish in a couple of hours. They're not hard. I can sew them together in my sleep.

(Henry:) A few HOURS? That's amazing. 

(Lizzy:) Eh, it's what I went to school for. ;) It’s not that impressive to me. 

(Henry:) Well, to me it is at least.  ;) 

(Lizzy:) 

(Henry:) 

(Henry:) Unfortunately, it's time for me to go to bed. I have an early call time in the morning. 

(Lizzy:) You're going to bed at 6 in the evening? I’m assuming you have a super crazy call time? One time I had a call time of 1 am because there were things that had to be fixed by the time you and Anya got to set at 4 am. Although it does have it’s advantages. I get to have the first pick of craft services, and sunrises are always nice to watch. 

(Lizzy:) But I’m sorry, that sucks. :(

(Henry:) Some days it does, especially when I can't seem to fall asleep. But today was exhausting so I don't think I'll have any issues tonight. Plus Kal has been extra cuddly tonight so I definitely won’t have any issues. 

(Lizzy:) Well then, I guess this is where we say goodnight. I hope you sleep well. :) 

(Henry:) Thank you. I hope you do, too. Hopefully tomorrow will involve less bleeding onto garments. ;P

(Lizzy:) Haha, I mean it really doesn’t matter. If anything it makes the garment just look THAT much more legit. I hope you have a good day on set tomorrow. :) 

(Henry:) Thank you. It was really nice talking to you Lizzy. I hope we talk more again soon. :) 

(Lizzy:) It was nice talking to you, too. And I would really like that. :) 

(Lizzy:) Goodnight, Henry. :) 

(Henry:) Goodnight Lizzy. Sleep well. :)