#Annabel Hewitt

[livresderomance]

Tout le monde était choqué quand la nouvelle des fiançailles de Rupert Benton a éclaté. C'était surprenant car la chanceuse était considérée comme une fille ordinaire, qui avait grandi dans la campagne et n'avait rien à son nom.

Un soir, elle est apparue lors d'un banquet, éblouissant tous les invités présents.

« Waouh, elle est si belle ! »

Tous les hommes bavaient et les femmes étaient jalouses.

Ce qu'ils ne savaient pas, c'est que cette fille de la campagne était en réalité l'héritière d'un empire de plusieurs milliards de dollars.

Il n'a pas fallu longtemps pour que ses secrets soient dévoilés les uns après les autres. Les élites ne cessaient de parler d'elle.

« Mon Dieu ! Donc, son père est l'homme le plus riche du monde ? »

« Elle est également cette excellente designer mystérieuse ! Qui aurait pu le deviner ? »

Cependant, les gens pensaient que Rupert ne l'aimait pas. Mais ils étaient surpris.

Rupert a publié une déclaration, faisant taire tous les sceptiques. « Je suis très amoureux de ma belle fiancée. Nous allons nous marier bientôt. »

Deux questions trottaient dans la tête de tout le monde : « Pourquoi a-t-elle caché son identité ? Et pourquoi Rupert était-il soudainement amoureux d'elle ? »

[nightttoon]

Decided to dye playing cards with horror characters. Is it good?

[skyguywrites]

annie baxter x elias hewitt.

[ssriuser]

long list of celebs who are currently or have a history of supporting israel if u see someone not on this list please add to it in the comments or tags!!

amy schumer, sacha baron cohen, selena gomez, gal gadot, fran drescher, pharrell williams, jamie lee curtis, sarah silverman, gerard butler, ashton kutcher, katharine mcphee, arnold schwarzenegger, mayim bialik, michael rapaport, floyd mayweather, seal, debra messing, josh gad, noah schnapp, jerry seinfeld, timothee chalamet, madonna, chris rock, bella thorne, adam sandler, eugene levy, james corden, courteney cox, billy porter, barbra streisand, pamela anderson jack black, isla fisher, jason sudeikis, justin timberlake, jessica biel, jon hamm, judd apatow, annabelle dexter-jones, ben stiller, chelsea handler, mandy moore, eli roth, karlie kloss, chloe fineman, natalie portman, helen mirren, michael douglas, josh peck, jason alexander, lance bass, jim gaffigan, kris jenner, florence pugh, liev schreiber, ashley tisdale, reese witherspoon, justin bieber, mila kunis, sofia richie, nina dobrev, paris jackson, rita ora, katy perry, lindsay lohan, dwayne johnson, chris pine, andy garcia, nikki glaser, zachary levi, george lopez, howie mandel, quentin tarantino, nicholas sparks, kathy griffin, heather locklear, sarah michelle gellar, andy cohen, bono, max greenfield, jennifer love hewitt, busy philipps, alison brie, sara bareilles, sarah paulson, brooklyn beckham, jk rowling, patton oswalt, lebron james, jon voight, ellen degeneres, kim karshian, khloe kardashian, demi lovato, slyvester stallone, jessie j, addison rae, jon bon jovi, sharon osbourne, neil patrick harris

[carolina-reaper]

へ ╱|、 ૮ - ՛ ) (` - 7 / ⁻ ៸| ✨ about me ✨ |、⁻ 〵 乀 (ˍ, ل ل じしˍ,)ノ

•❅ ───── This is an 18+ blog, minors DNI ───── ❅•

I'm Priscilla, but my friends call me Priss!

Level 20

She/They, They/Them

MY WIFE GF

Cat mom ≽^◯⩊◯^≼

History nerd, lover of all things vintage

Cosplayer

I mostly write oc x oc and canon x oc, but I manage some canon x canon on occasion.

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Writing Stuff

Solo Fandom Pieces

~ The Outsiders ~

No Stranger to The Rain - Dallas Winston

Canon x Reader (y/n) Pieces

~ Pirates of The Caribbean ~

To See You Again - Mermaid!Reader x Captain Salazar

Oc x Canon Pieces

~ The Outsiders ~

I Think They Call This Love - Nora L. Bergman x Darry Curtis Good Luck Charm - Annabelle D. Tucker x Two-bit Mathews

~ The Walking Dead ~

I'll Fly Away - Danica McDermitt x Shane Walsh In the Sweet By and By - Catherine Glasse x Negan Smith

~ Texas Chainsaw Massacre ~

Little Bird of Heaven - Lillie-Beth Lenore x Thomas Hewitt

~ Peaky Blinders ~

The Soldier's Minute - Milly Tarleton x Arthur Shelby

~ Saw ~

How Time Will Tell - Shauna Perron x Mark Hoffman

~ Joy Ride ~

Tight Fittin' Jeans - Carrie Darville x Rusty Nail

Oc x Oc Pieces

~ The Walking Dead ~

Wildflowers - Jodie E. McBride x Sylvia Berkly

~ TURN: Washington's Spies ~

Honeybee - Jenny Wakefield x Caleb Brewster

~ Original ~

Gone For a Soldier - Kathleen Walker x William St. Clair Thistle & Weeds - Maisie Duncan x Johnathan J. Gowan Flowers in The Sky - Ophelia Halliday x Aegelmear Ingvardottier

[anniebaxterthefuture]

Contrary to how most of the world seemed to view her, Annabelle didn’t consider herself stupid. Hot headed at times, absolutely. Selfish, entitled, and a little insensitive? Confirmative. But she wasn’t some naive child that needed to be sheltered and protected, despite what her father thought. Annie knew her dad loved her, and she completely understood how lucky she was to have somebody looking out for her in the ways that he did, but she had come to a point in her life where she was feeling altogether, completely and utterly alone. 

By no means did Annie think she didn’t have friends. She did, and she was so lucky to be surrounded by so many amazing people, but with her father’s constant watchful eye, and a security detail over her shoulder almost every hour of every day, she was rarely allowed the opportunity to just go out and have fun. Coffee dates with Rae were dampened by the presence of Kenny – her lanky and loveable, but ultimately overbearing glorified babysitter. Days out with Henry and Chess usually required an extra pair of eyes – generally in the form of Kenny’s broody boyfriend Harvey – as her father dreaded the unwanted attention that ‘cavorting with rockstars’ might bring her. She’d once clapped back that if he thought cat cafés and trips to the park with Hazel classified as cavorting, that he’d hate to hear about what she and Henry used to get up to as teens in Monaco – a retort that had landed her a month-long ban on seeing him at all. 

Truthfully, there was a grand total of three people that her father seemed to trust her around, the only three people in the world that she seemed allowed to spend time with sans a chaperone; Elias Hewitt, Dante Lee, and Jackson Otto. Fortunately, the three of them just so happened to be her favourite people in the whole, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed to Annie what they all appeared to have in common with her father. She’d pondered for years over the possibility that her friendship with the boys might merely be an act, that the three of them only spent time with her under her father’s orders, presumably hating every last minute of listening to her loud-mouth remarks and playful flirting. Whatever their intentions, and whatever the truth was behind their friendship, it didn’t stop Annie from missing the three of them while they were gone. 

Tentative as he often was to land her in the spotlight, Michael Baxter had agreed that Annie could accompany him to Florida ahead of the Miami Grand Prix. His ground rules – much like Australia – had been firm and strict, leaving Annie little-to-no time to explore on her own, nor touch base with Jax or Dante as she’d been dying to do for so long now. She knew she’d bump into Elias one way or another – the handsome boy so often acting as her father’s shorter, paler shadow – but she’d fought hard to even step foot on Miami soil, and she wanted to make the most of it. 

Despite direct orders to not leave the hotel without her father – as well as to check in with him if she even so much as wanted to leave their suite – Annie had managed to slip past his lackies, and was now enjoying the comfort of the hot, Floridian sun against her skin.  

Of course, she didn’t want to completely piss her father off, with every intention of keeping her head low and staying out of sight of anybody who might recognise her. Donning a McLaren baseball cap in a hideous orange that she was certain Jax would burn if he saw it, and a pair of shorts that had the Mercedes logo printed on each ass-cheek, she was fairly positive nobody would suspect she had any affiliation with Ferrari. And, if they did, then she figured it would make one hell of a headline. 

Anxiety coursed through her veins as she walked the City, thinking absently of her friends. Some days, Annie wondered if enough time and distance meant they forgot about her, that men like Jackson and Dante simply went about their days feeling lighter without her constant presence. It didn’t do well for her to get caught up in her own insecurities, but it was often hard to keep them at bay. 

With a sigh, she pressed the heel of her palm to her eyes, rubbing gently to will away both the building migraine and the unwanted thoughts nagging in the back of her mind. Just as she withdrew her hand, some jackass on a skateboard sped past her, his shoulder colliding with Annie’s own. Immediately she felt her legs buckle beneath her, the speed of the impact knocking her off her feet, causing her to hurtle onto the concrete beneath her. Her knees harshly collided with the ground, a hiss of pain whistling between her teeth, and Annie’s head immediately shot up to glare after the moron who, of course, had come away entirely unscathed and was now careening around the corner without a care in the world. 

“You asshole,” Annie called out, momentarily forgetting that she was meant to be keeping a low profile. 

Groaning, she stared down at the blood now mapping her knees, both grazed and looking a little worse for wear. Daddy would not be happy with her once he realised she’d not only disobeyed his orders but had potentially hurt herself in the process. 

“Stupid, bitchass, low-rent Floridian Tony Hawk motherfucker,” she mumbled under her breath. 

[ezrabridgerwrites]

QUICKFIRE BIOS ;

BRADLEY ;

age: 28 

sexuality: straight...ish 

from: los angeles, california 

ship: persephone blake

best friend(s): micah abiola

siblings: maia prestwick (younger sister)

family: n/a 

roommate: maia prestwick

exes: n/a 

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: yes 

smoke: no

pets: n/a 

DANTE ;

age: 33 

sexuality: bisexual 

from: oxford, england 

ship: jackson otto 

best friend(s): annabelle baxter, olly walker 

siblings: viola dean (née lee)

family: octavia 'tavvy' dean (niece)

roommate: n/a 

exes: n/a 

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: yes 

smoke: no

pets: n/a 

ELIAS ;

age: 26

sexuality: bisexual 

from: london, england 

ship: annabelle baxter

best friend(s): matty parker, jackson otto 

siblings: liam hewitt, harry hewitt 

family: william hewitt (father, deceased), brendon richmond (godfather, deceased) 

roommate: n/a

exes: n/a 

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: yes, but rarely 

smoke: no 

pets: n/a

HENRY ;

age: 26

sexuality: bisexual 

from: monte carlo, monaco 

ship: diego rodriguez

best friend(s): chess howard, poppy martin 

siblings: arthur, valentina, leo, nicolas & sylvie bly 

family: n/a 

roommate: n/a

exes: stefan wilkes (deceased) 

injuries/scars: none, unless you include several cat scratches 

drink: yes 

smoke: sometimes weed 

pets: marmalade (cat)

JOEY ;

age: 28

sexuality: bisexual 

from: salem, massachusetts 

ship: micah abiola

best friend(s): micah abiola, chess howard, poppy martin, louis denver, scotty carter

siblings: none 

family: n/a 

roommate: micah abiola

exes: n/a

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: yes 

smoke: no 

pets: n/a

MARLEY ;

age: 23

sexuality: lesbian

from: brooklyn, new york 

ship: jessica ortiz

best friend(s): diego rodriguez, persephone blake

siblings: n/a 

family: andrew bostwick (father), harlow charlton 

roommate: n/a

exes: n/a

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: no

smoke: weed, occasionally 

pets: bucket (blue heeler)

MAX ;

age: 30

sexuality: bisexual

from: san francisco, california 

ship: ivy rogers

best friend(s): louis denver, scotty carter, jessica ortiz

siblings: tommy hayashi

family: cassandra may (aunt) 

roommate: tommy hayashi

exes: n/a

injuries/scars: old shoulder injury 

drink: yes

smoke: no

pets: none, but tommy has two rats: wasabi and fred

RAE ;

age: 24

sexuality: pansexual

from: fairfield, connecticut 

ship: flynn moone

best friend(s): annabelle baxter, poppy martin, katie murdock (npc)

siblings: none

family: rowenna gothel (kidnapper?? i guess??) 

roommate: katie murdock (npc)

exes: n/a

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: not often

smoke: no

pets: n/a

RAFFERTY ;

age: 40

sexuality: gay

from: brooklyn, new york

ship: harlow charlton & maverick rojas

best friend(s): kian mcgrath

siblings: none

family: helen reyes (wife, unfortunately) 

roommate: fucking helen

exes: ted wiseman (deceased)

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: yes

smoke: yes

pets: n/a

RIPLEY ;

age: 28

sexuality: bisexual

from: puebla, mexico

ship: charlie clarke

best friend(s): persephone blake, ariadne halliday, kimaya sunder, rose blakely, paris york

siblings: none

family: daniel reyes (father, deceased) 

roommate: n/a

exes: edmundo silva (ex-husband)

injuries/scars: n/a 

drink: yes

smoke: no

pets: jonesy (axolotl), clarice starling (papillon), laurie and nancy (corn snakes)

SIMON ;

age: 32

sexuality: gay

from: toronto, canada

ship: billy mchale

best friend(s): billy mchale

siblings: kit fields (née hudson)

family: lo fields (brother-in-law), jenna fields (niece) 

roommate: kit fields, lo fields, daisy diggory

exes: n/a

injuries/scars: several baseball injuries, birthmark above left eye 

drink: yes

smoke: no

pets: percy (cat), grover (labradoodle)

WARDO ;

age: 30

sexuality: queer

from: manhattan, new york

ship: louis denver

best friend(s): ivy rogers

siblings: eric, marcus & cecily josten

family: ivy rogers, bryce byers, maverick rojas

roommate: bryce byers

exes: louis denver

injuries/scars: various scars, iron-shaped imprint on back right shoulder, raised scar from stab wound on lower left abdomen

drink: yes

smoke: yes

pets: capote (dalmatian), betty (puggle), ulysses (cat, ownership shared)

[anniebaxterthefuture]

Yeah, that's it! To see... what? What's so exciting about it? In fact, don't tell me. I can find out for myself. Of course I want to. I know Daddy trusts you, but even if he didn't, I couldn't think of anyone better to take me. Are you sure?

Exactly! I mean, I was homeschooled, so... I don't actually know why I agreed, but. It felt just like what you're saying. Daddy loves you, though. He sat me down that night and he said "Belly-" oh my God, that's what he calls me. Why did I tell you that? That's so embarrasing. Pull it together, Annabelle. Anyway. He said, "How do you feel about that young boy, Elias Hewitt?" And I told him that you'd made me smile so hard my cheeks hurt, and laugh so hard I had belly ache for an hour after. And he said, "Well, baby, that's good enough for me." So, no. I don't think he thought you were a nutjob, E.

Wait, do you mean A Novel Idea? I've been there before! Matty always makes me go so we can see - never mind. But it's a really nice place. We could... we could go sometime? If your dad trusted me enough to be your escort. But only if you wanted to.

Of course I remember that. It's like when you're in school and you want to laugh about something but you have to do it quietly so your teacher doesn't hear but that just makes you want to laugh harder. I wasso worried your dad thought I was a total nutjob after that.

[brokehorrorfan]

Blu-ray Review: Dream Demon

Dream Demon is England's answer to A Nightmare on Elm Street, and it's not shy about its influence. What the 1988 British horror film gets right is the nightmares themselves. Creative, atmospheric, and gory, many of the sequences could be mistaken for scenes from an unmade Elm Street sequel. Director Harley Cokeliss (Black Moon Rising) does an admirable job blurring the lines between dream and reality, often leaving the characters as well as the viewer unsure of which realm is on display.

Where it fails is the story itself, which Cokeliss and co-writer Christopher Wicking (Scream and Scream Again) treat like an afterthought. The plot centers around Diana (Jemma Redgrave, Doctor Who), a young bride-to-be plagued by nightmares. Beyond merely falling short of Elm Street's ingenuity, Dream Demon lacks a distinct antagonist. Playing more like haunted house movie than slasher flick, in site of its title, the evil entity is never clearly defined.

A satirical commentary on Princess Diana, Diana's engagement to a famous military hero (Mark Greenstreet) causes her to be continually harassed by ruthless members of the press, Peck (the scene-stealing Timothy Spall, Harry Potter franchise) and Paul (Jimmy Nail, Howling II: Your Sister Is a Werewolf). She inadvertently befriends Jenny (a charismatic Kathleen Wilhoite, Witchboard), an adopted American whose birth parents died in Diana's new house, and the gal pals have to defeat the evil before Diana dreams everyone she knows to death.

Beyond that, the film plods along with little concern for narrative. What the film lacks in story, it does its best to make up for in aesthetic. From the attention-grabbing opening, the picture is rife with appropriately nightmarish imagery, including ample blood splatter courtesy of special effects technicians Alexander Gunn (Rambo, The Expendables) and Simon Hewitt (1408, Alien vs. Predator). Cinematographer Ian Wilson (The Crying Game, Below) often employs handheld camerawork to capture the madness.

Dream Demon has been newly restored in 2K from the recently-discovered original camera negative, supervised by Cokeliss, with original uncompressed stereo audio for Arrow Video's Blu-ray release. The newly revised, 88-minute director's cut (accompanied by a brief introduction from Cokeliss) - which most notably removes a comedic coda from the end of the film - plays by default, but the 89-minute theatrical cut is also included. Despite the low budget, the dreamy visuals are gorgeous in high definition.

Cokeliss sits down for a 27-minute interview about the filmmaking process, from storyboarding to special effects to camerawork, plus he details his journey to track down the negative and the rights holder that allowed for this release to come to fruition. Producer Paul Webster openly admits that Dream Demon was conceived as a rip-off of Elm Street, which his company had distributed in the UK. He also reveals that Aaron Lipstadt (Android) was originally supposed to direct.

In a new interview, Redgrave reflects back on her film debut, highlighting her bond with Wilhoite both on and off screen as well as the special effects. Greenstreet and fellow actors Annabelle Lanyon (Legend) and Nickolas Grace (Robin Hood) also look back on the experience fondly and mention their experiences with the effects. Composer Bill Nelson (of Be-Bop Deluxe fame) discusses his first score, for which he used a 16-track reel-to-reel recorder and a sampling keyboard powered by floppy discs.

Cokeliss and Webster also provide audio commentary on select scenes in which they dig a little deeper into specific moments. Thankfully, the scenes are strung together into a 46-minute piece to avoid viewers having to sit through silence for half the movie. Also included is Foundations of Nightmare, a vintage making-of piece featuring 26 minutes of interviews with Cokeliss, Redgrave, Wilhoite, Spall, Webster, and Nelson. Promotional and behind-the-scenes image galleries and the theatrical trailer round out the extras.

Dream Demon is available now on Blu-ray via Arrow Video.

[skyguywrites]

oc: annabelle baxter. // fc: halle bailey. ship: elias hewitt. // opp fc: jonah hauer king.

annie baxter. she/her. queer. daddy's little girl. princess. nepo baby. rich kid. spends her father's money like there's no tomorrow. loud. flirty. sexy. says what's on her mind even when it gets her into trouble. bratty. petty. jealous. self-involved. lonely. stifled. lonely in a way that she struggles to quantify. feels trapped. secret passion for journalism. loves her friends with every inch of her soul.

[anniebaxterthefuture]

TEXTING: JAX Annabelle: Damn, okay, stay boring I guess! You think I could find somebody to kiss in the Motor Sports Erotica section of A Novel Idea? Annabelle: No, I did not. You really think Eli would kiss me? ELIAS HEWITT? I think he kind of sees me as, like, a sister or something. Annabelle: You think? I don't think Matty would do that for me. Would he? Annabelle: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

TEXTING: ANNIE Jax: Hah! Well, I'm definitely not finding anyone to kiss in the Motor Sports Erotica section, I'll tell you that for free. Jax: Speaking of... did you get a New Year's kiss, Annie? Or was Eli really on his best behaviour? Jax: Eli's Matty? Leave it to Matty. He'll be out on his arse tomorrow. Jax: (I love you too, by the way. Horribly.)

[splat-dragon]

These Broken Wings Can't Learn To Heal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063878 @whumptober2019

Micah had tried to get him to show him his wings, more than once.

‘We’re both Sons of Dutch, and that makes us brothers.’

People tended to show their wings to family. After all, who else could you bear your literal soul to? 

He wasn’t entirely sure what Micah’s endgame was, but he knew it wasn’t anything good. The man had even flashed his own at him, once or twice, ‘accidentally’ letting him get a glimpse of his Lammergeier wings. And even those few second glimpses were enough to set unease deep in his stomach.

You never killed someone without it leaving a mark deep on your soul. Never lost someone without it showing on your wings. It was just a part of their lifestyle, a part of being an outlaw.

Yet Micah’s wings were flawless. Black and cream feathers were unmarred, as smooth and unharmed as a young child’s. He had seen, perhaps, a dull patch near the joint, where the feathers had fallen out and failed to grow back right, but it could just has easily been a trick of the light.

Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he had shown someone his wings.

His mother used to coo over them, he remembered, over their rich brown color. But then she’d died, and a great wound had torn his right wing from tip to scapula, and the color had dulled. And his pa had taken to snarling at him, telling him he had no right to still be bleeding, and he’d taken to hiding his wings.

He’d joined up with Dutch and Hosea, and they walked around with their wings out. Some part of him knew it was an attempt to put him at ease, to show they trusted him, and to some extent it worked. It took years before he felt comfortable to unfold his own wings, let them ripple into visibility—and it was the first time he had seen them since he was a child.

He’d been groggy, blinking blearily into the campfire. Funny enough, it had been a lazy day. Their camp was set next to a lake, and they’d spent it fishing. He had no adrenaline in his veins to keep him wide awake, to keep him from sleeping, and his stomach was full with Hosea’s catch.

It had been a sharp inhale, an intake through clenched teeth, that had drawn his attention. He’d looked up to see Hosea looking pointedly at Dutch, barely able to make out a hissed ‘stop staring’, realizing that Dutch wasn’t staring at him, but something behind him.

Behind him.

His wings.

His wings?!

He stiffened, looking between Hosea, who had averted his gaze, and Dutch, who was trying to look away but kept darting his eyes back. They had their wings out—Dutch, with his patchwork, too small Magpie wings, and Hosea, with his too big, tufted Albatross wings. Both of them showed the scars of their past, yet they had allowed him to see their souls since the moment they took him in.

So, clenching his fists in his thread-bare jeans, he turned to look at them.

They weren’t as dull as they’d been. Weren’t almost black, and far less greasy. And his wound… his wound had stopped bleeding. The feathers around it weren’t even stained with blood, it had healed, scarred over to nothing more than a thin white line, bare of feathers. It was hard to believe that, last he saw, it had been the span of his hand.

He didn’t take to walking around with his wings out. Would let them show when he was comfortable, or drunk, or drowsy, but not for no reason at all.

As their gang grew, he showed his wings less and less. He showed them to Bessie, and Annabelle, once or twice, before they died, and it was inevitable that Susan and John saw them. But Javier, Bill, Lenny and the others, they didn’t even know what type of wings he had.

He knew that Javier’s wings were those of a robin, and Bill’s those of a rhea. Knew that Sean’s were a blue jay, Uncle a seagull, the O’Driscoll (“I’m not an O’Driscoll!”) a ruby crowned kinglet, and Marston was a red-tailed hawk. But none of them knew that he had the wings of a golden eagle.

As members came and went, they left marks on his wings. Samuel and Melissa Jones—a clump of feathers torn out of his left wing as he buried them—Robert McKinnley: a bend at the tip of his wing when he saw him at the head of the group of lawmen charging into their camp. Young Jackson Hewitt, a thumb size gash in his right wing as he wasn’t fast enough to shoot the noose.

Eliza and Isaac, a break in his right wing so severe it left the tip dragging along the ground.

And then Mac, crumpled feathers, and Davey, a small gash in the center of those. Jenny, ruffled feathers along his alula, and Sean, when he thought the boy was dead, bent secondary primaries on his right wing. And then, as Sean folded to the ground, still grinning, those secondary primaries tore free of his wing, leaving a wide, bleeding wound.

He showed his wings to Hosea one time, went hunting with him in search of a giant bear. Dozed off next to the campfire, half drunk on beer, relaxed for the first time in ages, just he and his pa like it had been years ago.

But he’d been woken up by a choked gasp, reaching for his gun, thinking someone was hurt. It was just Hosea, though, he’d realized quickly, his eyes wide and pained, hand over his mouth. “Hosea-?” he’d started to ask, before catching movement out of the corner of his eye.

His wings were out, and Hosea’s eyes were locked on them, beginning to glass over.

He’d hidden them, and they hadn’t spoken of it again.

Arthur had taken pains to hide his wings from his pa’s as best he could after that; he never wanted to see that look on his face again—on either of their faces.

But he couldn’t help but to punish himself, stare into the mirror and unveil his wings, remind himself of how he had failed to protect every last one of those scars.

And then Kieran had died. Well, he’d discovered that the man had died. At the time, he had been a little preoccupied, first with fighting off the wave of O’Driscolls, and then with sending the man off to be buried. It hadn’t been until he’d been washing himself off, stopping to look himself over in the mirror, that he’d seen a decent sized bald patch on his left wing.

Huh.

He hadn’t realized that he’d cared about Kieran that much, had expected nothing more than some ruffled feathers. Yet the wound ached, and itched, and there was nothing he could do but wait for it to heal.

Hosea died, then. He’d never felt such pain, as his wing crumpled, hollow bones shattering, giving way as though someone had taken his wing in their hand and squeezed it as tightly as they could. And he had seen Javier cower, clearly in pain as well, Dutch’s face blanching in that way it did when he was trying to hide his pain. But they hadn’t been able to suffer their pains, too busy trying to escape, and then Lenny died and that pain, too, the awful tearing as a strip of primaries was yanked out of his wing, blurred in with Hosea’s.

Things began to grow tense, and people turned on each other. Bill became more aggressive, Javier began to snap at him. And Dutch… his only remaining pa… began to distrust him, too. Was beginning to slip, had murdered an old lady in cold blood back in Guarma. His wings began to dull, again, so dark he could mistake them for black tinted brown. And the sicker he got, the duller they became, and the tearing pain from Hosea became a jagged throb that never quite went away.

He never much liked Miss O’Shea, but he’d grown to trust her. So when she claimed to have betrayed her, a fistful of his marginal coverts bent. And when Susan shot her, they crumpled, grasped in an invisible fist.

“Dutch… I need help!”

Yet Dutch had walked away, and his wing had exploded into pain. If he hadn’t known it was impossible, he would have thought that one of the soldiers had stomped on it, had shattered his wing into so many tiny little pieces that he’d never be able to put them all back together.

Eagle Flies saved him, at the cost of his own life. The boy died, and a scrape tore at his scapulars; his heart, his wings, ached for poor Rain Falls as he heard the man cry out his pain, could only imagine the agony in his wings, the scar that had been left on his soul after the loss of his wife and both sons. The break in his wing from Eliza and Isaac, his girl and his son, ten years later still ached; he couldn’t imagine the pain that Rain Falls was in.

And then he thought John died, and he couldn’t breathe through the pain. He’d watched John get shot, watched him fall off the train and out of sight. His wing had itched, begun to ache more in his primaries, as though preparing to break, although he’d told himself ‘He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s fine. He’ll come riding up on Old Boy and laugh at you for fussin’.’ But Dutch had rode up, saying that there was nothing he could have done, and his wings had exploded, he could feel his crooked wing, ruined from Eliza and Isaac and Dutch but not from Hosea, tear open, a wound that spanned the entirety of the inside of his wing, splattering blood on the ground that no one could see.

Dutch shattered the last shreds of hope he had in him, dismissed Abigail as ‘just a girl’ and abandoned little Jack to be an orphan, and the pain was dull, and weak, little more than a small ache that didn’t come close to standing up to the one in his chest, in his throat, as some of his secondaries came loose—some part of him, some morbid, self-hating part of him, wanting to look at himself in the mirror, see how crumpled his wings were, how bald, how much blood they splattered on the ground, how much of them dragged as he walked. But he was sending Tilly and Jack off to wait for the boy’s mother, and he and Sadie were riding off to save Abigail.

John was alive, and his wings didn’t hurt so much. He could feel the wound seal up, flesh knitting together, feathers regrowing exactly as they’d been before, bald where they’d been bald, scarred and crumpled and ruffled and dull, but feathered all the same.

When Dutch pulled a gun on them, sided with Micah, it shouldn’t have hurt. His pa’s betrayal had been a long time coming, and some part of him had known that, no matter what he said, Dutch would still stand by Micah. He had never been good at admitting that he’d been wrong, and he’d been so wrong, the consequences had been so bad, there was no way he’d take the fall. Never admit that Mac and Davey, Jenny and Sean and Lenny, Kieran and Molly and Susan (oh, god, that had hurt, he’d known her since he was young and his wing had torn open), and poor, poor Hosea had all died because he’d thrown his lot in with the wrong person.

Even still, a wound had torn into his wing, a gash the length of his palm that burned like nothing else, and left him panting for breath as he fled with John, barely feeling the bald patches form as Javier and Bill sided with Micah, as well. It was expected, but they’d been brothers, once, and it still hurt.

He was dying, and Dutch did nothing. Was staring at him, no, staring beside him, eyes glistening.

Arthur looked at his side, and couldn’t help but to laugh. He couldn’t feel his body anymore, everything tingled, only the pain in his soul, in his wings, telling him that he wasn’t yet dead. He didn’t know when he’d lost control of his wings, but they had rippled into existence at some point, stretched out on the stone beneath him.

They were a truly ghastly sight, and some part of him mourned that he had failed, yet again. He’d tried, he had, to keep his pa’s from having to see his horrid wings, yet here they were on full display before Dutch.

It was impossible to tell what species of wing he had, he could have been an over-sized crow or a particularly dull kite. There were great swatches that had gone completely bald, only irritated, pink skin left behind, only a few patches of feathers left between those and the bleeding wounds. Blood dripped and oozed onto the ground, vanishing the moment it touched the stone, some of his few remaining feathers breaking loose and doing the same.

They were barely recognizable as wings, besides. So crumpled and bent, like they’d been crushed in a fist and stomped on by a horse.

When… when had this happened? Dutch remembered when Arthur was young, when his wings were handsome and gleaming, a shade of burnt caramel that had fit him perfectly. Only the scar from his mother to mar him. And now… now his soul was broken, was destroyed.

“Oh, Dutch,”

And, just for a moment, Dutch slipped, and Arthur could see his magpie’s wings. Dull, too, dull, and ragged and bent and scarred, and he knew which wound was Hosea’s because it was still wide and open and weeping, yet he must have been seeing things because, as he watched, the man’s face blanched with pain, and both of his wings snapped at the joint, hanging limply as his had done when it was just Eliza and Isaac.

Eyes wide and glassy, wings dragging behind him and dripping blood that dissolved as soon as it hit the ground, Dutch staggered away.

Micah screamed yet, somehow, Arthur knew that, if he could see his wings, they would be unchanged, and stormed away. Even as his wings folded, crumpled inwards by an invisible hand that grabbed him and clenched tight, forcing his wings towards his torso, uncaring that they couldn’t bend in such a way, he couldn’t help but to laugh, beginning to drag himself to the edge of the cliff.

Arthur Morgan died, his wings still dripping blood and shedding feathers as they glowed gold and faded away.

[anniebaxterthefuture]

TEXTING: KEELEY

Annabelle: Matty is different his game is so strong he could talk a bunch into bed babes

Annabelle: DHDHSKS PLEEEASE

Annabelle: He’s so pretty and sexy and his dick is big 😚😚😚😚

Annabelle: In my defence I AM TRYING!!!!!! A dollar to sit on Elias Hewitt and/or Dante Lee’s face?????

TEXTING: ANNIE

Keeley: so my dad’s new CEO wants me to come to monaco this weekend bc he hopes it’ll look good for the company and give them a shot for 2026.

Keeley: quite frankly i’d rather die but it also means i’d get to see you.

Keeley: unless you’re not going to monaco? in which case i’m not either.

[thetreehunter]

Forge Dam Fairy Door Tree

A Contestant in the GREAT TREES OF SHEFFIELD 2017 CONTEST.

Closing Date: May 1st 2017. Results announced Mid-May Nominated by Annabel Hewitt Twitter hashtag: #gtos17 Visit the TiCL Tree Trail W3W location >>> rescue.voters.insist Google Maps >>> 53.360398 -1.545879 

Chestnut, plane & sycamore, who or what lies behind the door?" This is the fairy door of Forge Dam. I pass this tree regularly and saw the appearance of the fairy door at various stages, so I know that the door actually hides reinforcements to support the tree where the bank has eroded beneath its roots. The fairy door is such a beautiful touch though, and shows what care can be taken to preserve healthy trees.

[anniebaxterthefuture]

Had it been any other day of the week, and if Annie weren’t already feeling completely humiliated, she might have found herself distracted by Elias looking down at her. He was tall, handsome, cheeks dimpling in a way that always made her heart stutter in her chest. For one, fleeting moment he’d been wearing her favourite of his smiles – they were all exceedingly gorgeous, but she couldn’t help but find herself endeared by the shy, timid smile that he so often wore in her presence. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was about her that made the boy nervous, his nature always so bright, yet ever so slightly guarded. 

As it was, she found herself pouting up at the brilliant boy, her chest aching, breath shaky as she failed to fight back tears. She hated herself for getting so upset over a boy, particularly one she’d never actually met, but that didn’t stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks at Eli’s question. 

“I’m great,” she assured him, lower lip wobbling as her mouth curved downward into a frown that would put Florence Pugh out of a job. 

She choked out a watery, half-hearted laugh as Eli backtracked, his face scrunching up cutely. The urge to reach up and pinch his sweet little cheeks was fleeting, her unwavering attraction to the boy taking a backseat to her current heartache. 

“It’s okay, sugar,” she mumbled, averting her gaze from his. 

She knew how stupid she probably looked, sitting alone in a gorgeous dress while everybody else had fun, celebrating the arrival of the New Year. Guilt washed over her as she realised Eli had abandoned Matty to come check on her, shame burrowing deep in her gut as it dawned on her that she’d inadvertently spoiled a second person’s night. 

“It’s not important, seriously. I don’t wanna be a buzzkill or anything,” she shrugged, bringing a hand up to clumsily wipe at her cheeks.  

She threw a silent prayer up to both God and her father for the waterproof mascara she was currently wearing, grateful that it wasn’t about to make a mess of her perfect look. The last thing she needed was some low quality iphone photo of her with black streaks trailing down her cheeks making headline news. Honestly, she wouldn’t put it past some moron to see Eli standing in front of her and put 2 + 2 together and make 6, no doubt concluding that he’d just broken her heart or something entirely nonsensical and bizarre. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous as Elias Hewitt was, she was fairly certain she was the last person who would ever catch his eye romantically, and even more impossible to comprehend was the idea that he could ever break anybody’s heart. 

Her phone buzzed again on the table, and a foolish spark of hope coursed through Annie’s chest as she snatched it back up, eyes searching for some sign of Troy lighting up her screen, ever ready with an apology. Her optimism was wasted on the man when a text from her father filled the space instead, a simple Happy New Year, Darling. Have fun with Jackson, little dove. x that should have warmed her heart, but only made her feel even worse for having deceived her parents. 

Swiping the text away, she tossed the phone back down, the device clattering harshly against the wood and to the edge of the table. As entitled as she knew it looked, in that moment she hadn’t a care in the world for her possessions, her mood soured by the night, the New Year announcing itself to her in a way that felt cruel and taunting. 

“Elias,” she announced suddenly, abruptly turning her attention back to the pretty boy in front of her. “Do you think I’m ugly?” 

For a million reasons, it was an utterly stupid question. It probably seemed as though she was desperately fishing for compliments, certain that Elias would be the one to offer them up on a silver platter, but Annabelle’s confidence had taken a beating and, feeling downtrodden and insecure, she wondered absently if she was the problem, and not Troy. He was, after all, a model – it was his job to be gorgeous and desirable, which meant that he also recognised it in others. Perhaps she wasn’t to his tastes after all. 

“I mean, hypothetically, if you were supposed to be going on a date with me – would you bail? Would you take a quick glance at me in person and think fuck no and run for the hills?” 

“Happy New Year!”

Cheers rang out around A Novel Idea as 2024 arrived. Immediately, Elias felt a hand slide though his hair and he easily let himself be pulled into Matty’s kiss. As his lips touched the other man’s, there was that age-old fear that rose up in him, worrying that, somehow, word of this innocent little tryst, platonic as it was, would get back to Ferrari. The team he drove for was built on the foundations of traditionalism, and one of their drivers getting caught kissing another man would, in their owner’s eyes, send those foundations crumbling to the ground. The prancing horse did not need to make political statements apparently, and for some reason Eli’s sexuality would be a “statement” if he opened his mouth about it.

It was easy for him to remember where he was though, and the anxiety in his chest eased with the reminder. A Novel Idea was a safe space, he’d come to realise. Billy didn’t invite people to his party that he thought would go running their mouths. There were no NDA’s to be had, but Eli trusted the people here. Maybe that was stupid and naive of him, but true nevertheless.

He felt his lips turn upwards as he laughed against Matty’s lips. Eventually pulling away from the other man, he gave his best friend a bashful smile, still finding ways to be embarrassed about Matty’s easy love. The other man had quite literally been inside him before, yet Eli continued to blush when it came to the more chaste displays of affection of the other man.

“Happy New Year,” he told his friend, snickering once again when Matty leaned in for another, cheeky kiss that ended up being more of an open-mouthed mess as they both failed to keep their laughter at bay.

“Down, boy,” he warned playfully. He smoothed a hand down the front of Matty’s shirt, looking back up at his friend and raising his eyes when he saw the pointed look he was on the receiving end of.

Tilting his head to the side in confusion, he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, silently questioning his friend. In return, he watched as Matty’s expression shifted to one of exasperation, prompting Eli to shake his head, puzzled. The two of them had always been rather adept at these silent conversations, particularly when they were younger and a well-timed quirk of Matty’s lips across the dinner table had Eli twitching in his seat, excusing them both so they could trample upstairs and end up tangled together in Eli’s bed.

Right now though, he wasn’t sure what his best friend was trying to tell him, until Matty nodded over Eli’s shoulder.

Narrowing his eyes, he let his eyes linger on Matty for a second before he glanced over his shoulder, following Matty’s eyeline. Realising what - or rather who - Matty had been looking at with absolutely no subtlety, Eli felt his heart pick up double time. 

“Quit it,” he said, trying to catch Matty with his elbow. His friend expertly dodged the jab, and continued to nudge Eli in Annie’s direction.

He’d seen her enter the book store earlier on with Jax, his jaw nearly hitting the floor after taking in the dress she was wearing. It would probably show up on his post mortem under ‘cause of death’, that dress would. She looked nothing short of bloody ethereal, forcing Eli to decide that there was simply no way he could approach her tonight. Besides, she was with Jax and as much as Eli openly adored his teammate, he couldn’t help but feel like there was a distance between them now. Not only because of Jax’s time out after his mid-season crash, but also due to the clumsy slip of the tongue Eli had allowed to happen when he’d gotten a little too tipsy at the Ferrari Gala, where he might have implied that he was glad to see Asher go. He didn’t think Jax was too pleased to hear that.

Right now though, Annie was on her own, and looking none too pleased about it. In fact, she looked downright miserable, the sight tugging on Eli’s heart strings.

“Matty, I can’t,” he protested when his friend gave him another shove from behind.

Still, embarrassed as Eli was to entertain the idea of stumbling his way through a conversation when Annie looked like Aphrodite reborn, he couldn’t really leave her looking so sad, could he? If anything, he could approach her and offer to go seek out Jax. With a sigh, he flashed Matty a defeated look.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” He held up his hands as he eventually walked away from Matty, noting that Simon had made a beeline over to him to wish him a Happy New Year. At least he wouldn’t be the only one leaving the shop with red cheeks tonight, he noted. 

As he quietly approached Annie, she seemed to sense his presence before she saw him. Or rather, she had mistakenly thought it was Jax who was hovering worriedly nearby. He jumped a little with the ferocity she slammed her phone down, struck into silence so by the time he’d found his voice again, she’d already realised it was him.

Her smile was thin and watery, not at all like the usual trademark Annie Baxter grin she gave him, the one that was sure to reduce his insides to a mess of playground-flutters and molten heat. He tugged one corner of his mouth up in an answering smile before it faded as quickly as it had arrived.

“Hey,” he greeted her, gaze softening into concern. “Annie, are you okay?”

He immediately screwed his face up in regret.

“Sorry. That wasn’t a Michael Jackson reference. I’m genuinely asking.”

[vivian-designing-for-print]

“Frere-Jones (born Tobias Edgar Mallory Jones) grew up in Brooklyn and became interested in letter design while attending Saint Ann's School. He is a son of Robin Carpenter Jones, who wrote for advertising agencies, and his British wife, the former Elizabeth Frere, daughter of Alexander Stuart Frere. His brother is music critic Sasha Frere-Jones and his great-grandfather was writer Edgar Wallace.

After receiving a BFA in 1992 from Rhode Island School of Design, Frere-Jones joined Font Bureau in Boston, becoming Senior Designer. He created a number of the typefaces that are Font Bureau's best known, among them Interstate. He joined the Yale School of Art faculty in 1996, and teaches type design there alongside Matthew Carter and Nina Stössinger.

In 1999, he left Font Bureau to return to New York, where he began working with the company of Jonathan Hoefler, renamed Hoefler & Frere-Jones in 2005. While working together, the two collaborated on projects for The Wall Street Journal, Martha Stewart Living, Nike, Pentagram, GQ, Esquire magazine, The New Times, Business 2.0, and The New York Times Magazine. In 2014 Frere-Jones ended his work with Hoefler and filed a lawsuit against him which was resolved in an out-of-court settlement later that year. He then established his own company, Frere-Jones Type, which released its first retail family, Mallory, in 2015.

In 2006, Frere-Jones received the Gerrit Noordzij Prize, an award given by The Royal Academy of Art (The Hague) to honor innovations in type design. In 2013 he received the AIGA Medal and won the National Design Award for Communication Design from the Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum in 2019.

Frere-Jones married Dr. Christine Annabelle Bateup in 2006.”