#so this is how i am coping tonight

[flufflecat]

New project: start

[selfindulgentfandomstuff]

Look. I’m just saying. I know for a FACT that I’d be a tasty lil treat for a vampire. How, you may ask? Well.

Simply put, I get a stupid amount of bug bites. My blood tastes soooo good, I know it

[izzy-b-hands]

prolific is slow, so more filming and posting it is for today (tho I'm making!! slow progress!! towards enough ad revenue for a payout, and i got like 100 views across all my stuff yesterday alone! which isn't a lot for most ppl but for me it's !!!! which makes it worth it to try and keep up the tighter filming/posting schedule as best I can)

[indigodawns]

.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

ICE CREAM TO DROWN MY SORROWS

[piplupod]

i hate that there isnt any way to work thru these feelings and i hate that theres no way for me to escape them properly and i am just supposed to survive all of this and sit with this terror and dread 24/7 and be fine !!!

[soft-spooks]

i am once again so very tempted to write out the entire outline for the 🔪 canon compliant timeline but i KNOW im gonna get burnt out halfway through and also slap like twelve content warnings in it if i ever even want to THINK about posting it

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

got the fucking anxiety… gonna work on autistic gifs or something today to calm myself down

[yououghtaknow]

hard thing about Being Me is i will write things that are So Good but i cannot show them to people because it will mentally destroy them

[lesbianlenas]

love how ive been trying to find my inner peace via painting and all i have gotten is um. worse. lmfao……

[anxietytriangles]

Tried going out with my bf to the bar bc he was invited out by friends and just got ignored the whole time. Tried so hard to be a part of the conversation and be pleasant and just got talked over or stared at instead. I just don’t understand why I’m so unlikeable. What is it about me that turns people off? I am trying so hard to be normal all the time and it’s getting me nowhere.

[celestialmancer]

🌧️.

[warcraftedtardis]

Y’all ever get so mad at someone/something that you just stop engaging with them/it? It kinda feels like spite ngl but it might also just be spicy depression.

[aloeverawrites]

New reading challenge for 2023!!

Read Mandate for Leadership The Conservative Promise- Project 2025, so I can be adequately terrified at the possibility of this list becoming reality.

Who wants to read it with me?

[neonqueerautumn]

Personal Danni Tag Rant.

If you see this cover thine eyes.

[moonstruckme]

rooomate james. 😭😭 literally obsessed w himm!!

Me too I love him (and you!) sm <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 808 words

You don’t recognize James’ car until he shouts at you. 

“Hey!” 

You give a little jump, turning midair to find James smiling out the rolled-down window. 

“Want a lift?” 

“God, you scared me!” You backtrack and open the passenger door. The seat looks to have been tidied in a hurry, receipts and takeaway containers tossed into the backseat. “How’d you even know I’d need a ride?” 

James refrains from responding to give you an expectant look. You roll your eyes and buckle your seatbelt. Satisfied, he puts the car in reverse, setting his hand on your seat to look behind him as he backs out of the parking spot. 

“You weren’t home when I got there,” he says, “and then I remembered on Sundays you usually get off at eleven, so here I am. Is Art not with you?” 

“No, he wasn’t working tonight.” 

James doesn’t seem too disappointed by this. He pulls onto the street. You watch him, looking almost unconsciously for signs of wear and tear. 

Now that rugby season is in full swing, he’s gone not just during the day for training but sometimes overnight for away games. You’ve been alone in your apartment for the whole weekend while he played in London and then Bristol. It was weird. You think you’ve accidentally grown used to having James around. You don’t fancy yourself a very tactile person, and the urge to hug him isn’t terribly strong, but it’s there. 

“How was work?” he asks you. 

“It was fine. How were your matches?” 

“They were fine,” he imitates you, grinning. “No, it’s like I said. Winning the second one’s always better than winning the first and losing the second. It’s nice to end on a good note.”

He’d texted continual updates while he was gone. You sat on your couch, pretending to yourself or perhaps to some invisible, judgemental observer that you were watching TV when really you were entirely focused on James’ texts. You imagined him sitting in his hotel room doing the same, or maybe in a pub with his teammates, smiling at his phone each time you responded. 

Your imagination has become terribly overindulgent lately. 

“Honestly, I was pretty disappointed you weren’t home when I got there,” James says, a familiar teasing lilt to his voice. “I was hoping to come in and catch you wearing one of my jumpers and staring tearily at a framed photo of me.” 

You roll your eyes, but your face burns. You did use his shampoo, once. In your defense, you’d run out of yours, but you thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to smell like him, nice and fresh and comforting. It had foamed more than you expected. It did smell really nice, but it made your hair feel dry (boy shampoo always does that, you’ve no idea how James’ curls seem to thrive under such poor treatment) and you felt silly about it for days, lovesick in the most derogatory sense. 

Didn’t stop you from sniffing your hair occasionally, though. 

“You weren’t gone to war,” you reply. “And where would I get a framed photo of you?” 

James looks affronted. “I assumed you already had one. How did you get through the weekend without even a photo? You brave, brave girl.” 

“I actually threw a rager,” you deadpan. “Rented out your room to six people traveling through with the carnival and let them invite over all their friends. Did loads of hard drugs.” 

“Well, we all have different ways of coping.” He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder consolingly. You pretend goosebumps don’t skitter all the way down your arm from the brief touch. “And what a marvelous job you’ve done covering up your escapades!” He exclaims as you pull up in front of the apartment. “I haven’t come across the cocaine dust on our bathroom counter yet, so you must have really done a thorough cleanup.” 

“Keep looking, it’s around there somewhere.” 

James laughs. You’re slower getting out of the car than he is, and by the time you emerge he’s in front of you, pulling you into a hug. You think your bones liquefy. He’s warm and strong and he smells like his shampoo, both arms squishing you heartily before he lets go with a little laugh. 

“Sorry,” he says, bringing his hands to your upper arms, “I didn’t even ask. I just missed you, you know?” James has this look on his face, smile brilliant and eyes wide open. So saccharine sweet you almost can’t look at him. “Guess I got used to having you around.” 

You do your best to smile back. “Yeah, me too.” 

He squeezes your arms before turning to go inside. “You smell like Italian food, too. I don’t suppose you’ve cooked anything recently that’s still in the fridge? I’m beginning to think about second dinner.”