#winter prompts for sh

[tropes-and-tales]

Kind of a Sh*thead

(Rhett Abbott x F!Reader)

CW:  Angst; family-type healing; allusions to and threat of violence; bit of fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5256

AN:  This was originally requested by @elegantmusicdragon from a long-ago Christmas prompt list: "trying to hide their sadness during the christmas celebration" from the sad christmas prompts? Definitely angst...maybe with a little hope at the end?"

AN: This is the next piece in the "Mending Fences" miniseries, found here.

It will shame Rhett in the future, how long it takes for him to realize what has happened. 

That night at the bar, he sat waiting for you:  nursing a beer, his eyes on the door, ready to get a little loose with you and maybe head out to the open range and fool around. 

Then Maria appeared in front of him.  Like magic.  Like an angel spirited back to Wabang and right in front of him.  It threw him off completely, his world tilting sideways  He found himself dazzled by the fact that the girl he pined over for years was suddenly in front of him, smiling, laughing, touching his arm and squeezing his bicep while he subtly flexed it under her fingers.

It wasn’t until last call that Rhett surfaced for a moment, the spell lifting for long enough to remember he was supposed to meet you, yet you were nowhere to be found.

She must have been held over late at work, he reasoned, and even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. 

It will shame Rhett in the future, but it will take months before he really feels that shame.  He’ll find out you left early for school, but by then, he will be entirely wrapped in the magic of Maria, dumb with lust and love that he thinks is finally reciprocated.  He'll send you a handful of texts, bland little things that you read but don’t respond to. 

Months later, when Wabang is sliding fast to a cold winter and Maria is gone again, disappeared as quickly as she appeared, Rhett will feel shame.

And you’ll be long gone.

*****

Wyatt wishes he knew what he was doing.  Hell, he’d be happy for an inkling.

When his sister and brother-in-law died, he didn’t even hesitate to step up and take his niece in.  No brainer.  Blood is blood, but Wyatt loved his sister something fierce, and taking you in was like holding on to a part of her even if she was gone. 

Didn’t hurt that Wyatt loved you for you.  That he had loved you from the first time his sister set you in his arms, a bundle only a few days old.  You’d set your wide eyes on him and blinked sleepily, then puked up a torrent of milk on him that reeked something fierce.

Love at first sight, it was.

But hell, love wasn’t enough, was it?  What did he know about raising a little girl?  What did he know of walking that tricky line between being overprotective and being too blasé, of giving you space but making you feel safe? 

Cecilia had stopped over a lot in the beginning, had soothed his fears.  Had reassured him that love was enough, that he was doing a good job.  He was kind and well-meaning, and you had been a smart kid who became a smart woman, and on the balance, he would have agreed with Cecilia and said he did alright.

Nothing about this feels alright, though.

Wyatt always guessed it was Rhett Abbott who left you stranded at that hotel when you were a senior in high school.  Little fucker skulked around that entire summer, scampered away like a cat with a lit tail when he saw Wyatt coming.  Something had happened between the two of you.

When you came back to Wabang finally, you took up with the little fucker again, and Wyatt thought maybe he had been unkind.  Ungenerous.  He tried to be nicer to Rhett, but the kid barely ever met his eyeline.

What the hell, Wyatt thought.  The Abbotts can be a squirrelly bunch.  As long as he doesn’t hurt her.

All those years ago at the hotel, Wyatt was never sure who it was that left you stranded and tear-streaked.  This time, though?

You confirmed it that evening when you got home, eyes unseeing as you charged past him, thundered up the stairs, started packing.  When he confronted you, you burst into tears and spilled the entire sorry affair.

You and Rhett, hanging out all summer.  You in love, and Rhett…not.  Not with you, anyway. 

Wyatt wasn’t stupid.  When you said hanging out, he could guess what you meant.

Seeing his niece hurt like that made him see red, but he has a modicum of maturity, which means he bides his time in most things. 

*****

Maria’s been gone for months.

You’ve been gone for longer.

Winter in Wyoming is no joke.  Wabang gets less snow than other parts, but the wind cuts marrow-deep, and the days are short, grey affairs.  The holidays could be a break from the doldrums, but Royal has been on a tear lately, lighting into Rhett for every little thing, so Thanksgiving, then Christmas are tense and joyless.

For the first time in his life, Rhett truly considers his future.  What his life may look like in five, ten, twenty years.  Will he always wake to grey mornings that sit on his chest like a stone?  Will he become bitter and mean, the way his father has despite having a wife and sons and a granddaughter? 

He sends you texts.  Little one-liners, asking how you are, saying he misses you.  He tries to feel you out, but you leave him on read and never respond.

Once, he gets blisteringly drunk and tries to call.  You don’t pick up, and he doesn’t leave a message.

By now, the shame has settled into him and made itself at home. 

He can guess that you came by the bar that night.  He can guess that you saw him and Maria, and that’s what caused you to flee.  Layered on top of the shame is an annoyance with you and your knack for running.  He may be an asshole but you’re a child to run and hide when shit gets tough.

Then, on top of the annoyance, another layer of shame.  Of course you run.  The death of your parents left you with that wound, the inability to handle hurt in a healthy way.  You flee and tuck yourself in a corner, tend your wounds alone.  It’s a flaw, but it’s understandable why you do it.

Rhett had been your best friend, and for the briefest summer, he was your lover too.  He should have been the one person to help you work through that fear.  Instead, he only cemented it further.

*****

March.  The leaden skies start to take on some blue, high up in the atmosphere.  The sun burns a little warmer.  The barnyard thaws into a swamp, and Wyatt has to handle the anxious animals, pawing and snorting and half-mad from a winter of cabin fever.

March is a tough month, though, because you call and tell him you aren’t coming back to Wabang for the summer.  You got a coveted internship with a specialty vet hospital in the city, and while Wyatt knows it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you, it’s far easier to blame that fucking asshole Abbott boy.

It’s easy to blame Rhett when Wyatt eats dinner alone each night.  When he runs a vacuum over the floor of your bedroom, keeps it dust free like you may turn up any day and take your place back on the family ranch.  When he studies the row of family photos on the mantle, sees his sister’s face and feels like he’s failed her in the care of her daughter.

He’s not irrational about it.  He knows he has to let you fly and trust you’ll return.  Vet training is a long process—it’s not like you went off to Cheyenne for a handful of bookkeeping courses.  He knows, deep-down, you would have always left for your schooling.

Still, that fucking Abbott boy has built up a tab, in Wyatt’s eyes.  March is when that tab comes due.

-----

He knows the boy drinks at the Double Deuces.  It’s common gossip how he overdoes it and either gets ornery with the Tillerson’s or pukes himself silly in the parking lot.  There’s whispers of the fights between Royal and the boy, how the elder Abbott is tired of bailing out his youngest son, though no one would ever accuse Royal of having any patience, especially where Rhett is concerned.

If it were anyone else—any other dickhead young buck—Wyatt would chuckle in sympathy.  He used to do the same when he was younger.  He knows what the Wabang drunk tank looks like.  Hell, maybe his name is still there—he scratched it into the pea-green paint of the wall decades back to commemorate his first overnight stay.

But Wyatt doesn’t confront Rhett at the Double Deuces.  He doesn’t seek him out at all.

Rhett comes to him.

It’s a Saturday night, and Wyatt is lazing in front of the TV, watching the recaps of the week’s basketball games.  He’s half-asleep when he hears the heavy, scuffing tread of boots on his porch, then a thumping fist at the door.

When he peeks out of the window to see who it is, it’s the fucking asshole.  Rhett sways unsteady on his feet.  Wyatt opens the door, and he can smell the reek of cheap beer and brown liquor.  When he peers out farther, he can see where the fucking asshole parked his truck, half in the driveway and half in the yard, the tires sunk deep in the soft spring turf.

“You drive here like that?” Wyatt asks, though it’s obvious.

The kid nods.

Wyatt sighs, scrubs his hand over his jaw.  “Tell me you came from next door.  Tell me you were drinking at home and not out on the roads fucking loaded.”

Rhett stares at him, his eyes bleary and blood-shot, his blinks slow and deliberate.  “Came from t’bar,” he slurs.

“Fucking prick.”  Wyatt breathes it out. 

His vision wavers for a moment, the rage that courses through him is so hot and sudden.  He moves towards the kid just as Rhett sways towards him, and in a blink, Wyatt finds his hands on him, his sweat-dampened t-shirt twisted in his fists.  This close, the beer fumes make his eyes water, and when Wyatt studies the kid’s face, he sees blank stupefaction. 

“You fucking little prick.”  He pivots, turns, hauls Rhett away from the front door, down off the porch.  He half-drags, half-carries him, and once they are on the soft grass of the front yard, Wyatt shoves him away.

“Stupid, selfish.  So fucking selfish.”  The rage feels good, like a narcotic in his veins.  “You could have killed someone, driving like this.”

“I didn’t…”  Rhett sways on his feet, struggles to get his balance.  “Didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t t-think—”

Wyatt is on him again, his hands firm on Rhett’s chest as he shoves him in earnest, sends the kid stumbling back on his ass.  “You never fucking think, do you?  Jesus fucking Christ, my sister…her husband…they were killed by a fucking drunk driver, and you have the fucking balls to…you asshole…you fucking piece of shit.  You—”

But he can’t even finish.  His sister and brother-in-law, your parents.  Years ago now, but the pain is still fresh, a keen edge of a knife blade that takes his breath away.  It was after a rodeo, a random Saturday.  One stupid fucking decision and Wyatt lost his family, you lost your parents, and the rest of the world had the bad taste to keep on going. 

There’s a roadside memorial on the road out of Wabang that marks the site of the crash.  It makes that knife blade of grief twist in Wyatt’s gut every time he sees it.

Anger—rage—is such a close neighbor to grief.  Grief is something one has to feel, but anger?  That’s something to embrace, to lean into.  To do.

Wyatt advances on Rhett, his big fists opening and closing as the kid struggles to get back on his feet.  Wyatt wants to beat the shit out of him, wants to see him bruised and bloodied on the ground:  for hurting you years ago, for hurting you more recently, and now this.  For taking his life and the life of anyone else on the road into his own stupid, selfish hands.

Rhett manages to find his knees, and he kneels in the grass but can seem to get no further.  Wyatt towers over him.

“Get up,” he orders.  His voice is low, deadly, and his tone must penetrate the booze-fog because the kid tilts his head up and looks at him. 

“Get up,” he repeats.  “Get up and face it like a man.”

Rhett only manages a dumbfounded, “huh?”

“You wanna drive a big truck like a big man?  Drink at the Double D’s like a big fucking man?  You wanna fuck around with my niece and break her fucking heart like a big man?  So stand up and take what’s coming to you like a man.”

The kid seems to track Wyatt’s meaning.  His bleary eyes clear a fraction and fix on where Wyatt’s fists wait, eager to offer some payback for his sins.  Rhett nods, as if to himself, and he takes a deep breath.  Closes his eyes, opens them.  He struggles to stand, staggers a little, but eventually finds his feet.

“Make it her.”  It comes out one slurred word, makeither, and Wyatt’s anger cools by the barest degree.  He unclenches his fists, holds them looser.

“What the fuck you trying to say?”

Rhett coughs, sways.  Coughs again, then enunciates, clarifies.

“Make it hurt.  Make sh…sure.  Make sure it hurts.”

Wyatt’s fists uncurl more.  “Now what are you—”

“Am.  Piece of shit.  I am.”  The kid sways more but takes a wide step, braces his legs wide to keep himself upright.  “Y’right.  Imma piece a’shit.”

As quickly as Wyatt’s rage came on him, it flees him just as fast.  He sees it just as clear as day, how Rhett Abbott ain’t a man.  He’s just a boy playing at it, fucking up as he goes.  Wyatt knows as well as anyone the sort of father the kid has, Royal Abbott is no model of what a man should be. 

The kid standing in front of him is just a hurt animal:  hurt by his own father, hurt by his own behavior because he has no idea how to not take out his hurt on others.

He waves his hand at the kid, a dismissive gesture, and he starts to turn away.  He is halfway back to the house when he hears the kid coming for him, feels the weak glancing blow of the punch that has no aim or power because the kid is too drunk.

He wants to be punished, he thinks as he turns back around to face Rhett.  He knows Royal is hard on his youngest son, can guess that the kid’s been knocked around plenty.  His own father…well, he keeps that buried in the past, but sometimes it pops up like a bad penny.  Like now. 

He wants to be hurt because it’s the only thing he knows, he thinks.  Like I used to.

Maybe Wyatt only fell into fatherhood because of a tragedy, but he gets more of it right than he will ever give himself credit for.  He faces the kid, and when the kid comes swinging at him again, spoiling for a beat-down Wyatt will never deliver after all, Wyatt only opens his arms and lets Rhett step into them.  The kid struggles for a beat but he’s drunk, and he seems tired down to his soul.

It only takes a moment for the kid to stop struggling in Wyatt’s bear-hug, then sag against him in exhaustion, then weep in dry, barking sobs that feel like they’ve been building up for his entire life.  And Wyatt knows exactly what sort of pain the kid is bleeding out because it was his pain, and his sister’s too, until they both fled their unhappy childhood home and made a happier one here on this ranch.

“Christ almighty,” Wyatt says after the kid calms.  He doesn’t let him go—he only gets an arm around his shoulders, and he leads him inside. 

No sense sending him home to his father.  He’s here now, so he might as well sleep it off on the couch.

-----

It’s less than a month before Rhett returns.  Maybe a handful of weeks later, the kid turns up on Wyatt’s step, sheepish.  Looking small.

Wyatt will never be clear exactly why Rhett and Royal fall out so terrifically.  Who can say?  The Abbotts can be squirrelly fucking assholes, back to Royal’s father and probably even further back, but Rhett finds himself kicked out with nowhere to go.

He takes the couch for a night, but the next day, Wyatt thrusts some fresh sheets in the kid’s arms and directs him to the guest room down the hall.  Past your bedroom.

“Might sleep better in an actual bed,” he tells the kid, his voice gruff.

“I’ll be out as soon as I can.”  Rhett’s ears burn red in shame.  “Just gotta line up a place.”

“No rush.”

“Seriously, I’ll—”

“I got plenty of room.  You ain’t putting me out.”

-----

Wyatt is never sure the right way to tell you that Rhett Abbott is currently crashing with him.  A month passes and then another, and he starts to feel guilty that the kid who broke your heart has been living down the hall from your childhood bedroom, sitting at your kitchen table.  That he parks his truck beside yours, and that he’s caught the kid—more than once—lingering by your bedroom door, lingering by your truck, like your ghost might manifest if he stands still enough.

Every time you call.  Each Facetime.  Wyatt wants to say something and doesn’t.

Wyatt ends up taking the coward’s way out:  he sends you an email.  Keeps it short and sweet, apologizes for not saying anything sooner.  He alludes to the situation between father and son, but clarifies that Rhett is in no way forgiven for how he treated you.  It’s just that the kid needed a soft place to land, and he had the ability to help, so he felt it was his God-given duty to do so.

But I can ask him to leave, if you want, he writes.  If it makes you uncomfortable.  You’ll always be my first and top priority, kiddo.

It takes you two days to reply, but that means nothing.  You have a brutal schedule and often go radio silent for stretches of time.  When you do reply, it makes Wyatt smile.

I can’t be mad about it, you write back.  How many times did you look the other way when I brought a stray home?  I guess you deserve a stray of your own.  Might want to take him in for his shots though. :-) 

Wyatt grins when he reads your email, then glances over at where Rhett is sitting on the couch, watching TV.  The kid does act like a stray; he cringes the barest bit if Wyatt moves too suddenly or too close to him, but like a stray, he relishes the comfort of a warm home, food in his belly, and even the tamest praise.

You got a heart of gold, kiddo, Wyatt texts you, and your response is immediate.

Got it from my uncle.

-----

Through the summer and autumn, the two men fall into a rhythm.  It isn’t so bad living with the kid, once he starts to get his sea-legs under him.  Once he starts to feel like the bottom won’t drop out.  Rhett puts in an honest day’s work on the ranch, and Wyatt pays him.  The first time he presses money on the kid, he tries to push it away, embarrassed at what he thinks is more charity on top of the charity of room and board…

“You work for me, you work for me,” Wyatt said, blunt.  “Means you get paid by me.  Take it or leave.”

Wyatt won’t know it until years from now, when he’s an old man and Rhett has grey in his own hair, but this stretch of time—the two men working and living together—is when Rhett starts to learn how to be a man.  That Wyatt is the gruff but kind, slightly awkward father-figure Rhett always needed.

There are lessons embedded in their days working the ranch.  The lessons ease Rhett out of the fog of his life, the strange liminal space of being in his early twenties but still just a kid.

When Rhett royally fucks up a stretch of fencing, ruins a day of work.  Wyatt only grunts, shakes his head, then claps Rhett on the back.

“You can either take the time to plan out a job, or plan on doing the job twice,” is all he says, and he guesses that Royal would have belted his son into the dirt for such an error.

When Wyatt tasks Rhett with a simple rewiring job in the barn, replacing some light fixtures, and the kid has no idea where to even start.  He spends half the day sweating about it, a sick feeling churning in his stomach, until he decides to throw up the white flag and admit he has no experience working with electrical fixtures.

“Well, hell, kid.  Why didn’t you say something?”  Wyatt jerks his chin towards the barn.  “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

When at the rodeo, Rhett is tossed from the bull within seconds, a humiliating display.  Afterwards, his body bruised but his ego far worse off, Wyatt only chuckles at him, says life will throw you off like that sometimes and it’s the getting back up that shows character.

“You got back up,” he tells Rhett.  “That means something.”

“Means I didn’t want to get trampled,” he grumbles.

“Still means something.”

-----

Always, though, there’s the specter of you.

Wyatt catches the kid standing in the doorway of your bedroom sometimes still.  Peering in at the time capsule of your stuff:  the clothes you’ve left behind, the framed photos, the beat-to-shit stuffed bear on your bed. 

Wyatt mentions you in passing, but he never brings up that long-ago night at the hotel or your sudden flight from Wabang the summer before.  He guesses Rhett already feels terrible all the time, so why bother bringing it up and making it worse?

The kid eventually broaches the subject all on his own, just as winter descends on Wabang again.  It’s been over a year since either of them have seen you in person, though Wyatt Facetimes you at least once a week.

Rhett makes himself scarce during those calls, but Wyatt’s always had the impression he’s not far off, maybe straining to make out your voice through the wall.

In early December, you break the news that you aren’t coming home for the holiday break.  Wyatt would suspect that Rhett might be the reason, but your eyes practically glitter with excitement as you talk about a massive stray animal sweep you’ve helped plan, a Christmas-into-New Years take-to-the-streets movement to find and rescue as many street dogs and cats as you can.  You’ve been working with local Girl Scouts to build feral cat cold-weather shelters, and you’ve been raising money and donations, and you’ve built a strong foster network, and local clinics are ready to spay and neuter and administer vaccines—

Heart of gold, indeed.  It makes Wyatt tear up, first from so much pride it feels like his chest might burst, then from that knife edge of grief that his sister isn’t here to see what a force for good her daughter turned into.

When Wyatt breaks the news to Rhett later, though, the kid sorta deflates, and that’s when he brings it up himself.

“It’s my fault,” he mumbles.  “She’ll never come back if I’m here.”

“Not true.”  Wyatt goes to the refrigerator and snags two bottles of beer, then hands one off to Rhett.  He settles in his easy chair and studies the kid.  “You know she loves animals.  She’ll come back eventually.”

“She hates me.”

“Nah.  I don’t know if hate is something she can even feel.  Dislike, maybe.  Disappointment.  Not hate.” 

“She should hate me.  I deserve it.”

And then it spills out, one clipped sentence at a time.  The entire history of you two, from best friends in childhood to passing acquaintances to an awkward moment in a hotel that Wyatt now knows was not actual sex but just some fooling around that ended in cruel words.  When Rhett gets to the part of the story about your summer together, Wyatt holds up a palm, says, “yeah, don’t want the details at all,” and Rhett slouches against the couch and sighs.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, you know.  Sounds fucking stupid, but at the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing to her.”  Rhett glances over at the man, fixes his eyes back on the floor.  “Looking back, it felt like I was sleepwalking through that summer, and now I’m awake and see all the damage I did.”

Wyatt chuckles sadly.  He knows the feeling.  He has his own hurt women in his past, experienced the same sort of heartless sleepwalking. 

The kid shakes his head and continues.  “Wasn’t worth it.  Maria, I mean.  I don’t even know what I saw in her. 

“You were thinking with the wrong brain,” he tells Rhett.  Wyatt may have no lost love for Maria Olivaries, but he’d admit she was a pretty gal.  He could see why the boys went a little stupid around her. 

“Wasn’t thinkin’ at all.”  Rhett says your name, a sigh in his mouth, then adds, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Look.”  Wyatt sets his empty beer bottle aside, leans forward.  “You gotta try to make it right with her.  How you square it up is up to you.  Maybe she’ll forgive you, maybe she won’t, but you gotta make an honest try at it.”

“How?”

“Damned if I know.  But take it from me, kid.  I had a girl when I was your age, and I fucked it up completely.  Even once I realized how badly I fucked up, I was too proud to try and set it right.  Now it’s been years and it’s far too late.  So you gotta try, so even if she never forgives you, it’ll set right in your chest that you did everything you could.”

Rhett stares at him for a long beat, then nods.  Then there’s a beat of glassiness in his eyes, near-tears, that Rhett blinks away almost angrily before he turns and clears his throat.

“I don’t mean to, you know.  I don’t mean to be a piece of shit,” he says, his voice rough-edged.

“Aw hell, kid.”  Wyatt heaves himself out of his chair and starts to make his way back to the kitchen for another beer.  He stops in front of where Rhett sits, slouched over, and he lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit,” he tells him.  “I just think you’re kind of a shithead.”

Rhett snorts.  “What’s the difference?”

“First one is a lost cause,” Wyatt says.  “Second one is just an idiot trying to do his best.  Like most of us.”

*****

Christmas day at a bachelor’s ranch is not as sad as it might seem.

Wyatt brings in a tree but they only throw some lights on it to give it a bit of cheer.  They build a fire in the fireplace, exchange no gifts, settle in and watch the football games.

Christmas dinner is a pot of Wyatt’s ulcer-inducing chili and a pan of cornbread.  Cecelia drops by in the morning with a plate of cookies and a handful of gifts for Rhett, but it’s just the two guys for most of the day.

Until you call to Facetime your uncle.

You take Rhett unawares; you call off-schedule.  You usually call in the evening but this is the afternoon, and Wyatt mutes the football game and take the call from the couch.  Rhett starts to stand up, but the man waves him to sit back down.  No need to hide out like he usually does.

So Rhett gets a full accounting of your life from you directly.  He can hear your voice, and you sound like you have a sore throat.  You tell your uncle about your big rescue mission, how it’s bitterly cold in the city but how you’ve saved so many dogs, so many cats, and how you can’t wait to head back out after you warm up a bit.

“I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,” you tell Wyatt.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Your uncle glances over at Rhett, nods in his direction.  “We’re doing okay for a couple of guys.”

“You decorate a tree?”

“Just string lights.”

“The prettiest part of a tree anyway.  What about dinner?”

“Chili.”

You laugh, and the sound makes Rhett smile – when was the last time he heard it? 

“Happy Birthday, Jesus.  Here’s some indigestion,” you joke.

“Good thing the kid went to Costco and got a gallon bucket of Pepto,” Wyatt jokes back.

It draws another laugh, which makes Rhett laugh, which makes you stop and ask your uncle if Rhett is there too.

“He is,” Wyatt admits.  “We’re watching the football game.”

There’s a beat of silence from you that seems to stretch out forever but is probably only a second or two. 

“Merry Christmas, Rhett,” you say, and Wyatt hesitates, then tilts the screen so Rhett can see you and you can see him.  He almost doesn’t want to look but he can’t help himself.

You’re smiling at him.  Not as broadly as you usually smile when you’re delighted in something or someone, but it’s a medium-sized one that touches the corners of your eyes. 

It’s genuine.

It’s a place to start.  It’s a sliver of hope.  It’s not a door slamming shut in his face but a door left ajar by a fraction, and maybe Rhett can toe it open if he can just find the right way to try and square things up with you.  It’s confirmation that he’s not a piece of shit, just kind of a shithead, and if he tries his best, maybe that will be enough.

“Merry Christmas,” he replies, and if you notice the gruffness in his voice, you don’t react.

“Thanks.” 

Wyatt holds his phone there a moment, starts to turn it back to him, but Rhett blurts out, “be careful out there, okay?” so Wyatt turns it back.

Your smile grows the barest bit.  “Will do.”  A pause.  “Don’t let my uncle work you too hard.”

A toe in the door.  A sliver of hope.  The fire snaps in the fireplace and the string lights twinkle on the tree, and Rhett may be an idiot just trying his best, but maybe that’s enough.

“I barely work at all,” he jokes.  “Gotta leave plenty of work for you when you come back.”

It makes you chuckle.  It’s not a laugh, but it’s something.

“In that case, Uncle Wyatt, work him into the ground,” you joke back, and Wyatt turns his phone back to him this time, and Rhett is left with perhaps a bit more than a sliver of hope.  He leans back against the couch and thinks that yes, maybe he can salvage this after all. 

Maybe trying his best will be enough.

[miraeluc]

i loved ur last hcs about sh so much ! if its not too much, can i ask for u to make a 2nd part (?) including shoto & izuku. please, im begging u, ill sell my organs if needed. thank u <3

dearest, from the depth of my heart, i’m offering my sincere apologies, for some stupid reason, i saw your ask a few months ago, prepared the draft and forgot entirely about it. i feel so bad pls don't sell your organs omg i hope this reaches you.

bnha boys finding out about your selfharm

prompt: /

pairing: izuku midoriya x reader, todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: mention of bad mental state! (reader); selfharming; some crying; pronouns of reader not mentioned (i think? correct me if i’m wrong pls!)

izuku midoriya

izuku, just like bakugou, was aware that you had been struggling with your mental health

but, obviously, he also was not aware of your self-harm tendencies

to be fair, it wasn't something you struggled with for a long time

only two months, to be exact

the first time you put a blade to your skin was your biggest regret - because although it wasn't pleasureable, it was extremely easy to spiral out of control, doing it nearly every day as if it was routine.

and since it was winter - you didn't worry about hiding it since you could wear long clothes without people questioning it anyway

when izuku found out, he was a mess

it went like this

the both of you were spending a cozy evening together

since everyone in your class was out or with their families, you had the entire living area to yourself

you were sat beside him, scrolling on tiktok and he was doing the same, but on his own phone

after a long while of you guys just silently enjoying eachother's company, he wanted to ask if you were hungry, but since he hadn't spoken in a while his voice cracked while doing so, and you were quick to mock him

long story short, you were now underneath him while he was tickling you.

when you tried to push his hands away, he grabbed your wrist - initially only wanting to stop you, but when you winced, he immediately stopped tickling you and, without thinking, pulled up your sleeve to see if he had hurt you

instead, he was met with the red, angry lines littered across your skin, the wounds not fresh enough to still bleed, but they were obviously still open wounds

you froze in place

he gulped, eyes moving to meet yours before he wordlessly pulled you to sit on his lap, arms wrapping around you and caging you in

"-'s ok. don't feel bad. i'm sorry i didn't realise sooner." he choked out, trying to blink away his tears

you were still frozen in place, thoughts running wild as you tried to gather your words to say something 

“izu.. please- don’t blame yourself for not realising sooner,”

he moved to look at you, teary eyes meeting yours “let’s bandage you up, ok, love?”

before you could react, he already stood - hands steady beneath your thighs, carrying you towards his dorm room, placing you down onto his bed before leaving to grab a first-aid kit from his bathroom

he wordlessly applied aloe vera gel over the more or less still fresh wounds, wrapping bandages around your arm securely before pressing a light kiss on your hand

“we can talk if you want to, but let’s get the food i was talking about earlier, hm?” 

you smiled slightly and nodded

although you still had a long road before you, you felt that a tiny burden had been lifted off your shoulders

you no longer had to fight for happiness all alone, - izuku would be by your side every step of the way, rest assured.

todoroki shouto

although shouto was indifferent, he was not stupid

he didn’t officially know of your battles with mental health, nor did he officially know about your self-harming tendencies, but he picked up the signs.

he didn’t want to confront you about immediately - since he also wasn’t a very open person, he wanted to provide you the space you needed until you were ready to open up and talk about your struggles

in the meantime, he tried his best to subtly ask fuyumi for tips on how to comfort someone when the time came

he did begin to get increasingly worried when he started hearing less and less from you - you often didn’t show up to class, and you never answered texts

todoroki, not being one to pry, tried giving you the space he assumed you needed

he didn’t take it personally - he knew you weren’t doing this on purpose, but he was flooded with worry.

and when he found out you haven’t been leaving your room at all, he decided it was time to react and check on you, even if it meant bothering you

when he stepped into your room, his eyes had to adjust to be able to see in the darkness that immediately engulfed him as the door clicked shut behind him

the air was stale - clothes scattered around the floor. your bed was messy, but you were not to be seen

tentatively he called out your name, switching on the small bedside lamp you had

„y/n?“ as he took in the sight of your room, but his eyes zeroed in on something, an object, on your bedside table

he tried again, blood running cold

„y/n? are you in the bathroom?“

he picked up said object, mindful to not cut himself with the small blade, moving to place it somewhere away from beside your bed - out of sight, in hopes that his heart would slow its racing

„yeah. i’m in here. hold on.“ he heard you groggily call out

his eyes closed in relief at the sound of your voice - having assumed the worst and he sighed shakily, dropping to sit on the edge your bed whilst he waited for you, running a hand through his hair to push it back

when you stepped out of the bathroom, his face understandably dropped

you looked so pale, so defeated

so fragile

he noticed the way you were fidgeting, an arm hidden behind your back - probably the reason he heard you shuffling around your bathroom. maybe in search of something to cover up?

he stood again, slowly approaching you. when you didn’t flinch away, he gently reached up a hand to caress your cheek

„did you bandage yourself up properly?“ he whispered, no hint of judgement in his tone - just worry

and alas, that is all it took for your eyes to brim with tears.

your lower lip shook as you quickly blinked up at him, shaking your head and releasing a heart-shattering sob as your boyfriend engulfed you into his arm - caging you into a protective hug

„it’s okay. will you let me help you?“ he whispered

a/n: hi again - i KNOW i disappeared for like 2 - 3 years but i’m about to finish my drafts and post them out, but i want to announce that requests are temporarily closed as i will no longer be writing about anime characters (unless i get an intense surge of inspiration), but there will be more explaining that in a separate post. for now, enjoy the drafts!

[http-paprika]

BLUE / simon riley

my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"

simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking

WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him. 

 Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night. 

 Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette. 

 Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her. 

 Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back. 

 “Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing. 

 When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him. 

 She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from. 

“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?” 

 “Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress. 

 “You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it. 

 “It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.

 “Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction. 

 “Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died. 

 “I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to. 

 He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it? 

“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down. 

Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.

[hannahbarberra162]

Country Mouse, City Mouse Chapter 10 (end)

On Ao3

This is the last chapter! I really enjoyed writing Mihawk. Hope you enjoyed reading it.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A Horse By Any Other Name

Mihawk POV

Despite his denial about the changing seasons, the farming season was coming to a close. You were busy harvesting, breaking down areas of the farm that had stopped producing, and training the humandrills to take care of your horse. You’d named it Draftmule Mihorse, which you found amusing. He pretended that he did not. Perona had said Mihawk was “moping,” but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was an intelligent man, he knew that all things must end. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you work from the windows of the castle, wondering where your travels would take you next. 

He had no doubt that you could succeed anywhere, though the thought of you capriciously traipsing through the world did worry him. You didn’t know how terrible and cruel the world was - and he hoped you never had to learn. You didn’t seem to care that there were dangers lurking around each corner, waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim. The more he thought about it, the less he liked the thought of your whimsical travels. He would try to talk some sense into you, and see what could be arranged.

He left the castle and came down to watch you tend to Mihorse. You obviously loved the creature and anticipated its every need. You didn’t use it as a draft horse as much as a riding horse. He loved watching you ride it about the island, hair fluttering behind you. He had once seen you ride it in the nude under the light of the moon, a sight he would never forget. You were murmuring to Mihorse as you brushed him.

“Ah, Y/N. How is your steed today?” He refused to use the silly name. The beast was not even a mule, much less a draft mule.

“Mihorse is doin’ lovely, as always” you said, kissing the horse on the snout. The horse in return bit your straw hat and pulled it off your head. You didn’t seem to mind. 

“Out of curiosity, why are you training the humandrills to take care of the horse?” he wasn’t sure why the task had been allocated to them, rather than himself. It was certainly not jealousy prompting his line of questioning.

“Well, you leave for weeks on end for work, Perona hates horses, and Mihorse hates Zoro. So, who else would take care of him? Besides, they treat him like a little prince, he loves it. He might think he’s one of them,” you mused.

“Why aren’t you taking him with you on your journey?

You sighed forlornly and patted the horse on the neck. “I don’t think I can. He needs a lot of care and a stable life, not a life of travel…I’m gonna miss him a lot.” You looked up at his face and asked “what’s on your mind doll?” You were attuned to Mihawk’s moods, something else he would miss when you left. 

“I wanted to speak to you about your upcoming departure from the island.” You frowned slightly.

“Yeah, that’s comin’ real soon, huh?”

“Indeed. I am not sure your usual methods of finding new work will be suitable.”

“Oh, why might that be?”

“You were seen in public in my company, at the lizard’s gala. You will be known to the government as an outlaw.”

“But don’t you work for the government?” you said, looking at him quizzically. Mihawk frowned - that was a good point.

“In a manner of speaking. But other pirates and underworld bosses saw the same as well. It would not be safe to travel haphazardly to another location.”

“I don’t need to travel willy nilly, Shanks said he’d come pick me up and drop me at another island. I was thinkin’ of tryin’ a winter island this time, just for fun. Winter crops are so interestin’, especially since you can-”

Mihawk did something uncharacteristic. He interrupted you. 

“You may not journey on that decrepit, malodorous, dilapidated, ramshackle ship of foolishness.”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. You crossed your arms and shifted your weight to one leg. This…may not have been the best method to convince you.

“Really? Is there a reason why you are able to forbid me from doin’ somethin? As far as I remember, our partnership is about to expire, leaving me a free woman. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, that was the arrangement.”

“ Was ? Is there somethin’ I don’t know?” You looked even angrier than before. He decided to bare his feelings to you and deal with what may come.

“Yes, in fact there is. I do not wish for you to leave. I have enjoyed every moment spent in your company. You are the light to my dark, the sun to my moon, the rose to my thorn. I am never bored with you and never tire of listening to you. You are beyond what I could ever think possible to find in a woman. You are interesting, intelligent, charming, alluring, and a sensual treat. Please, stay with me.”

“Mihawk, I…”

“If you wish to travel and move on, I would be honored to take you to another location. It is selfish of me to covet more of your time. But I…I am only a man. A man in love. Please.” Mihawk practically whispered the last word as he looked at you with an intense gaze. He hadn’t begged for anything in his life. But he would beg on his knees if you wanted him to.

Y/N POV

You uncrossed your arms and stood up on your toes, putting your face close to his. 

“All you had to do was ask,” you said as you closed the distance and kissed him deeply.

"You can move into the shed with me if you'd like," you said mischievously.

"For you, I would." He considered his words for a moment and continued, "though I would prefer not to." You laughed and kissed him again.

You weren’t sure what the future would bring, but you wanted it to include your dour, sweet, romantic, violent, pale, farming protege. And Shanks had been right - one mention of his name and Mihawk had professed his love. Maybe you’d give him a bottle of booze from Croc’s house too. 

[youhavetosmile]

Karedevil (Taylor's Version)

Thanks @kdheaven for the prompt! Apologies for the delay.

The most Karedevil song on each Taylor Swift album, with rationales, according to me:

Debut: Tied Together With A Smile

I think this song encapsulates how both Matt and Karen present the image to others that they have their sh*t together, but on the inside they're really hurting. The second verse really gets me: "I guess it's true that love was all you wanted / 'Cause you're giving it away like it's extra change / Hoping it will end up in his pocket / But he leaves you out like a penny in the rain / Oh, 'cause it's not his price to pay." You can think of Matt's relationship with Stick and Karen's relationship with her dad this way. I like to think that by the end of the show they each have a more real vision of the other.

Fearless: Come In With The Rain

This feels very post-Defenders/early Season 3 from Karen's POV. At that point, everyone but Karen thinks Matt is dead. She doesn't get any proof of this until several episodes into S3, but she always has that hope. She's also dealing with a lot of complicated emotions toward Matt - she still loves him (obv) but she's also really mad at him and grieving the fact that he's not around. I'm sure even Karen questioned whether Matt was still alive at some point. I can see her going to bed with her window open just in case.

Speak Now: I Can See You

I love @kdheaven's pick of "Sparks Fly" but this one is so spot-on in my mind. I love the irony of the title because Matt is blind but he can "see" Karen in a way no one else can. "And we kept everything professional / But something's changed, it's something I like" fits them, as well as "I can see you being my addiction / You can see me as a secret mission / Hide away and I will stop behaving myself." I love this one for them!

Red: Forever Winter

I think this song is a great musical representation of S3 Karedevil. The facades have fallen and they've gotten to see each other's self-destructive tendencies and said "I love you even at your darkest / And please don't go." "He seems fine most of the time, forcing smiles and never minds" is an apt description of Matt.

1989: You Are In Love

Again, love @kdheaven's pick of "This Love." But the chorus is what really does it for me: "You can hear it in the silence / You can feel it on the way home / You can see it with the lights out / You're in love, true love." 'Nuff said.

reputation: New Year's Day

To me, this song represents Matt and Karen's commitment to support each other, no matter what. Again, all the cards are on the table, and they're still willing to show up for each other, "When you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away...When it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes." The second verse seems particularly applicable as a message from Karen to Matt: "I'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe / Or if you strike out and you're crawling home." Daredevil is morally gray, and I'm sure lots of people have lots of different opinions about him. But Karen has always stood by him. Also, New Year's Day is a day typically associated with New York here in the U.S.

Lover: Cruel Summer

This entire song screams Karedevil to me. I think it's particularly applicable to their early relationship, when they're still figuring each other out. There's a lot of feelings there, but it's fragile because it's new and they're hiding so much. "Breakable heaven" indeed. And then there's "He looks up grinning like a devil." ;)

folklore: peace

I'm 100% with @kdheaven on this one. The only thing I can say that they didn't already is that Matt and Karen both have chaos in their souls. This song is basically them saying "Here I am. This is me. Is this enough?" I also really love the "sit with you in the trenches" line for them. They're both willing to get their hands dirty for each other.

evermore: willow

I think this song follows the arc of their relationship really well. The first verse makes me think of their first meeting, when Karen is "rough on the surface" because of the charges leveled against her but Matt "cut through like a knife" and believed she didn't do it when no one else did.

The second verse coincides with when they start dating. They're idolizing each other, seeing each other as "a mythical thing." "Head on the pillow, I can feel you sneaking in" always gives me the image of Matt coming home after a long night of Daredeviling and crawling into bed next to Karen.

Then the last verse: they know the truth and have shown each other "the places where the others gave you scars." I also love the legal references throughout the song: "open-shut case" and "every bait-and-switch was a work of art." I can imagine Karen sitting in the gallery of a courtroom with a huge smile on her face as she watches Matt absolutely kill it.

Midnights: Karma

"Karma is my boyfriend" propels this song to the top of the list. Is there a more fitting description of Matt from Karen's POV? I will die on the hill that Karen was never mad at Matt for being Daredevil. She's always been a fan, even before she knew who Daredevil really was. And after that, her issue was that he didn't tell her. She's always been and, in my opinion, will continue to be proud of him and what he does on both sides of the law.

TTPD: The Albatross

In an effort to not end this post on a super sad note, I'm picking this song (though MBOBHFT is, unfortunately, also fitting). This one has a similar vibe to "peace," though I see this one a little more from Matt's POV than Karen's. Stick taught Matt that relationships are dangerous--for him and for the other person. So he tries to keep everyone at arm's length. Karen ignores all of that. She still loves him, even though she knows who Matt is and that being associated with him is potentially dangerous for her. I hear Matt in the lines "The devil that you know / Looks now more like an angel / I'm the life you chose / And all this terrible danger."

Thanks again to @kdheaven for the opportunity to combine my two obsessions!

[writing-with-emy]

Tw: sh

Idk if you’d be comfortable writing this (if you are not, no worries) but i was just wondering if you would write a poguesxf!reader where the reader comes off as a really happy and genuine person but is secretly struggling with self harm and is cutting herself and the pogues find out or see blood or something and she tries to play it off as nothing but they figure it out and convince her that she’s not a burden and then they all help her get help/get better in their own ways? Again if you’re not comfortable that’s totally fine, I know it’s heavy stuff.

FOREVER WINTER - Pogues x F!Reader

OBX MASTERLIST | PROMPTS | Requests are open!

Shipping: Pogues x F!Reader (platonic) Summary: Above in the request! Word counts: 3.880 words Warnings: explicit content and mentions of self harm, depression, suicidal Thoughts, self-hatred, swear words, mentions of drinking

A/N: Please do not read it if you struggle with something of the above, if you do read it, please keep in mind that you are loved and wanted! YOU ARE ENOUGH! I have put some Numbers under the Imagine if you want/need them. if you know someone who struggles with this or any other mental health issue, please be there for them, they need them and check on your loved ones you never know what there going through right at given moment. And as always, feel open to correct when/if you see writing/grammar mistakes! Eras Tour Festival | Red (T.V.) Masterlist

„That’s definitely not true.“, you Heard the voice of Pope going through the whole chateau. „Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia.“, JJ threw back at Pope, like it was obviously the best and most reliable source of the Internet. The rest of it was blended out because of the Major Headache you got, maybe you shouldn‘t have drank so much last night at the bonfire party.

You let out an unidentified sound and tried to hide from the sun who shines into the window of yours and JJs room you sometimes shared at John B's place. You put a pillow on your face trying to make it darker, but that doesn‘t help to blend out the laughter coming from the living room. You were still wearing your sweater from last night, better to say you still wore your whole outfit from last night, but the sweater was the important part of it, it was your try to hide the wounds that came to your arm two nights prior. You‘ve been struggling with your mental health for quite a while actually, but your friends didn‘t need to know that. They didn‘t need to know, that your parents, who just were freshly separated, gave you a shit ton of stress because of your friends who weren‘t Kooks or that your grades started to go down or people like Rafe Cameron and his friends who loves to give a lot of shitty remarks on the way you dress or look because you were hanging with the Pogues. No, they didn‘t need to know that and to be fair as much as you tried to talk you into the mindset that it was just a phase of feeling shitty, the wanting of actually ending everything came way more often from day to day. Way more often than you wanted to admit Because you just felt like a burden to everyone and everything.

You had no Idea how long you laid in bed after you woke up, but once you heard the door open you turned to it and saw JJ coming in. „Hey there sleeping beauty, finally awake?“, he asked, walking to the dresser. „I‘ve been for a while.“, you said, forcing a smile and furrowing your brows together because of the headache. „What got a headache?“, he asked seeing your forced smile and the together furrowed brows You just nodded, laying your head against the Pillows. „Well, I don‘t like saying it but, I told you not to drink so much, so.. I told you so.“. He said, smirking. „Just shut up, you‘re the reason I‘m even awake.“, you said laughing slightly. „You didn‘t just say that.“ he gasped, putting a hand on his chest. „Yes I did, what do you wanna do about it?“, you asked, grinning slyly at him. What you didn‘t expect was him taking your pillow and throwing it in your face. „Are you serious?“, you grumbled under the pillow. „Yes.“, he said and you didn‘t even need to look to know he has his shit eating grin on looking at you. You took your pillow, throwing it back in his face, before sitting up hearing your stomach grumble. „I‘m gonna grab something to eat, do whatever you wanted to do when you came in.“, you said, getting up from the bed and going out.

When you came Into the living room you saw John B, Kie and Pope together on the couch talking. John B waa the first to notice you. „Hey, she is awake!“, raising his Coca Cola Can in the air. „Ayyy.“, Pope and Kie said, raising theirs.

You wanted to say something but your stomach came first and grumbled loudly which made everyone laugh.

„I‘m gonna grab something to eat, and then I‘m right back.“, you said smiling, before going to the kitchen. You made yourself some toast with whatever was left over and grabbed yourself a Can of Coca Cola. „So what were you guys talking about earlier?“, you asked, throwing yourself next to Kie. „Oh, JJ just told us a stupid fact about Phineas and Ferb which wasn‘t true.“, Pope said. You just nodded while taking a bite from your toast. „Why are you still wearing the stuff from last night?“, Kie changed the subject. „Oh.. I just forgot to bring clothes to change into, I‘m just gonna drive home later to change and shower before coming back.“, you said, hoping they would believe you. You knew you could always borrow something from John B since he lives here and even from JJ because half of his clothes are here. „Why didn‘t you ask? I could‘ve given you some spare clothes for the night.“, John B stated something you already knew. „I know I just was probably too drunk to think about that.“, you said, giving John B your best smile you could spare right now.

He let it be because pope stated that you were actually really drunk last night, more than usual.

–

A few hours later you came home, hoping that your mother wasn‘t home right now, but to your luck she was.

„Where were you last night, I told you to come straight home after the Bonfire.“, she said, trying to keep calm but slightly failing at it. You knew when your mom was angry, nostrils flared, eyes wide with anger and her cheeks had a slight tone of red which wasn‘t cursed because of her rouge she normally wore. „I slept over at some friends house, I was too drunk to drive and I forget to text you I‘m sorry.“, you knew you didn‘t need to say their names, she already knew where you were so no need to lying, at least that would take away some steam, telling the truth was better than lying to her in those kind of situations. „And were your so-called friends the reason you drank so much?“, she asked, putting quote marks to the “friends” parts. „No I wanted it myself, they tried to stop me even but I didn‘t let them.“, you knew whatever you say, she wouldn‘t believe you when it came to the Pogues,

But to your surprise she just nodded.

„You're grounded for the next two weeks, no Pogues, no drinking and no phone.“, she said, putting her hand out. You turned off your phone before giving it to her. „Now, up to your room, and take a shower you smell like a whole bar of old drunk man.“, she said, scrunching her nose in disgust. You nodded walking up the stairs to your room.

You took off all your clothes, throwing them in your laundry basket, before taking new stuff out and going into your bathroom. You turn the Water on steaming hot before going in and let the heat relax your muscles. You laid your head back letting the hot water hit your face trying to calm your haughty who are spiraling right now. When you looked down you saw your cuts which are starting to heal, the crust on them in a dark red–brownish color the feeling and wanting to cut again coming back up. You finish your shower quickly, before heading out and putting a white towel around your body. Back in your room you sit on your bed, thinking but before you knew it you had a new blade in your hand while standing in your bathroom. The door behind you was closed and locked so your mom couldn‘t come in, you turned the shower on again so she wouldn’t hear you.

And there you were standing in front of your mirror just blankly staring at yourself in your towel with still damp hair, the short time outside nearly drying your hair since today was a really hot day in the outer banks. You knew your friends wanted to look for fish and go swimming out with the boat, but you couldn't resist the urge no matter how hard you tried.

(A/N: I give you the chance of skipping this part because is getting more explicit here with the self harm, so feel free to skip <3)

You just stared and the thoughts came rushing in your head. They don‘t want you. You are just a burden. You are a burden for your family, your friends and the people around you. You are just a piece of shit. You are worth nothing. You are not worthy of love. Do you really think your parents love you? You are.. You.. ..

You couldn‘t bear it anymore, you just grabbed the blade and set the first cut, then the second and the third. You just started going wild, and after you could see the one arm not anymore because of the blood, you started on the other arm, just going absolutely feral like a wild animal trying to kill its prey. You didn‘t even notice that you started crying while doing it, you stopped when your other arm was also full with your own blood.

(A/N: It’s over here, I didn‘t wanted it to Long )

You let the razor blade fall into the sink, breaking down crying not realizing that your blood is dripping in the sink, on the floor and on your towel which you have to throw away later. You just cried, cried because you felt unworthy of anything, friends, love, parents, anything that is normal in someone’s life. And it was triggered just by the little argument with your mom, what you couldn‘t even call that. You had no Idea how long you sat on the bathroom floor crying, but once you calmed down, you got up, you washed your arms free from the blood, the water slightly burning in your fresh wounds, but you tried to make no noise. Before you did anything else, you grabbed your first aid kit from your bathroom cabinet and put bandages around your arms, firmly enough to hopefully stop the bleeding. You changed in your room, you just throw on some shorts, a shirt and a new sweater, before putting on your shoes and throwing some spare clothes in a backpack and climbing out of your window, you had luck that under your window was the roof of the Garage and that your Mom hadn‘t took away your car keys.

Once you got into your car you turned the engines on and drove away. You saw your mom running out, yelling at you from the rearview mirror but you turned on your radio and drove to the Chateau. Was it stupid? Yes. Would you be in more trouble afterwards? Yes. Did you care right now? Absolutely fucking not.

–

The engine turned off once you turned the key, the radio dying instantly, you watched your friends getting the boat ready for a little trip like usual. You just sit there quietly, thinking if you really wanted to go with them, or if you would just be a burden for them? You took a deep breath before mumbling under your breath ��fuck it.“, you took your backpack and got out of your car, walking towards them.

„Hey she is back!“ JJ yelled, with two fishing rods in his hands. „Yeah, and guess who is grounded for two weeks?“, you grinned at him. „And then you are here?“, Pope asked. „Well, I don‘t really care. I mean she can‘t contact me, while she is the one who has my phone.“, you laughed. „That’s my girl.“, JJ grinned, giving Pope the Rods before putting an arm around your shoulders. „Well, looks like I have another guest for those two weeks.“, John B said, putting the buckets down. „I‘m just bringing my Backpack in and then I‘m right back outside.“, you said, wending out of JJs arm, going Inside, throwing your backpack on the bed.

–

Like 15 minutes later you guys were on the way to a place where the water would be deep enough to swim and to fish, once you guys found the place, you stopped the boat and let the anchor down.

After a while you had now Idea how much time is passing by, you just realized the sun is slowly starting to settle down, while laughing absolutely hard at one or JJs stupid Jokes, you had funny and actually forget what Made broke down earlier, actually you had pushed those memories and feelings so far back in your brain, that you forgot that you had bandages around both of your underarms when you rolled up your sleeves. You were at first confused as to why everyone quieted down, but when you looked at your arms, you remembered what you did early and faster put them down again looking at every single one of your friends who just stared at you.

„Y/N..“, Pope started. „Yeah?“, you asked like nothing happened. „Why Did you have bandages around your arms?“, kie asked straightly. „What?“, you tried to act innocent, not to let anything shine through. „You know what we mean.“ John B said. „Nope.“, you said while sipping your drink.

And that started an argument about why you have bandages around your underarms.

„Y/N, come on, you can tell us when something is going on.“, JJ said. „Nothing is going on, I had an accident.. that’s all.“, you said, shrugging with your shoulders. „An accident on both of your arms?“, Pope asked, not believing a single word you just said. „Yep.“, you nodded, trying to not let your eyes get watery.

They stared at you again for some time, just in pure disbelief you would lie them blankly in the face.

„I‘m okay guys, it‘s nothing.“. You tried laughing it off. „Stop telling us that you‘re okay, when you‘re clearly not.“, Throwed JJ in getting mad at the fact that you kept your problems away from them.

You just kept quiet looking away, trying to hold in your tears that started brimming in your eyes.

„You know what, you don‘t need to tell us anything..yet. We can just sit here, it's okay.“, Kie said, putting a hand on your shoulder. „But we can‘t help you, if you don‘t let us.“, Pope said, coming to your other side putting a hand on your other shoulder. „I know.. I just don‘t want to cry.. I feel.. Fuck, I feel so stupid for crying.“, you said looking up in the sky, still tryongnto hold those tears in. „Hey.. It‘s Okay to cry.“, John B said, squatting down in front of you, turning and holding your face in his hands so you look at him. „It‘s okay.“, he said, looking you in the eyes. „They‘re right Y/N, all of them.“, JJ said, squatting down next to John B.

You nodded, finally letting your tears break out. The four of them started hugging you in a big hug, all of them embracing you in a hug full of love, a hug that feels like comfort and Home. Once you let go of them, and they let go of you, you told them everything, what’s been going on, the remarks of rafe that were worsened when your friends weren‘t with you, the divorce of your parents plus them hating on your friends and very little else.

„Why didn‘t you tell us that earlier?“, Kie asked. „I didn‘t wanted to be a burden, which I probably am right now, I didn‘t wanted you to put all that on you, especially at the start of the divorce of my parents, I just fell into that habit of hurting myself, when I came home it just was the worst I have ever been with this feeling, I didn‘t even realized, that I was doing it so much and so fast, I just wanted to quiet down my thoughts. I wanted to drain them out and not feel anything..“, you explain to them. „You aren‘t a burden, who told you that.“, John B stated. „Well, I actually heard my Mom say it on the phone while the divorce was still going on. She was discussing it with my father who would keep me. They talked about me like I was an object and not a person.“, you said, staring at your hands.

You didn‘t have to look to know that everyone was looking at you with pitying faces.

„You aren‘t a burden, your mom is fucking stupid to say stuff like this, she doesn‘t deserve you.“, JJ said standing up. You looked at him while everyone said his name in shock. „No he is right..“, you started. „But I don‘t really want to talk about it anymore.. can we switch the theme?“, you asked, drying your eyes with the arms of your sweater.

–

When you were back at the Chateau, you felt someone putting their arm around your shoulders.

„Don‘t worry, we‘re getting you away from that, and out of that dark hole.“, Kie said, going next to you. „Yeah definitely, we‘re gonna kick their asses.“, JJ said, coming next to you with a bucket full of fish. „Thank you guys, you really make me feel safe.“, you said with a light smile. „Yep, and we aren‘t going anywhere anytime soon.“, Pope said, while JJ put his arm around your waist. „Right, and you‘re gonna stay here as long as you need to. See the chateau as your clinic now, and we are doctors and nurses to help you.“, John B said, walking in front of you guys with the other bucket in hand. „I don‘t know if I want JJ as my Doctor or my nurse.“, you said jokingly. „Hey, what does that mean?“he asked, offended. „I think I would be a great nurse or a doctor.“, he started trying to walk past you, Kie and pope, tripping and nearly falling on his face in the process. „Try to learn to walk straight first.“, you said a grin slipping its way on your Lips.

–

„Hey what’s wrong, pretty face?“, JJ asked, sitting down next to you. „I don‘t know if I‘m doing the right thing, whilst staying away from my mom and stuff you know..“, you said.

The two weeks where you normally would’ve been grounded, past way two fast, it’s the beginning of week three, and you actually didn‘t harm yourself in those three weeks. Well, nearly, you tried it a few times secretly, but you were always stopped luckily.

„You‘re doing the right thing.“, JJ said, putting an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. „Then why does it feel so wrong to me.?“, you asked, leaning against him and putting your head on his shoulder. „Well, you Mom expected you to live after her and do everything to make her happy and be at her standards, but right now you‘re focusing on you and not her, that’s probably why.“, he said, drawing little things on your shoulder while leaning his head against yours. „Can we like, I don‘t know cuddle for a bit? I just want to be close to someone for a little bit. Is that okay?“, you asked JJ, looking up at him. „Yeah totally.“, he said.

You both lie down on the bed you're sitting on to cuddle, which actually helped with the way you were feeling.

–

Today was a bad day, a very bad day. You were out with the Pogues like you were for the last few weeks, the last Month you and the Pogues went out nearly every single day and today was not different. You either went to the Wreck, to the beach to surf, out on the boat, or just drove around in the Twinkie even in the middle of the night.

All those things actually helped get you away from your thoughts, well it went well until today. You didn‘t know what was wrong, but today just fell off even though you were excited, because today was a Little movie show near the beach, and you guys decided to go there and watch the movie, that was until Rafe Cameron needed to make a remark. You tried to ignore it, but when he and his friends started laughing, you couldn't bear it and just ran away. You didn‘t make it war away, just war enough to hide between the cars at the Twinkie.

You started crying once you were alone, that just sat you off and ruined it.

„Hey.. Hey..“, you Heard John B coming towards you, before sitting next to you on the floor and pulling you against his chest. „It‘s okay, you‘re okay.“, he said, straddling your head. „I‘m sorry, I didn‘t want to ruin it. I tried to be strong, but I just couldn‘t once they laughed. I‘m so so sorry that I‘m so fucking weak and need to cry..“, you croaked against his chest. „Hey don‘t say that.. This? These tears are not a weakness. This right now is not a weakness.. This all shows how strong you are and how strong you‘ve been. And when you‘re done, look back and know that you were strong enough to overcome what you once thought to be impossible, alright?a, he asked, holding your face in his hands.

You just nodded sniffling. He gave you a kiss on your forehead before pulling you again against his chest.

„Did you really need to punch him in the face JJ?“, Popes' voice was heard. „Yes.“, the speaker answered. „Well, This whole thing sucked, so let’s just go home and watch a movie there.“, Kie said looking at you and John B, who now were sitting in the open twinkie. „Yeah let’s do that.“, you said, giving them a little smile.

Back at the chateau, you guys watched some old movie that John B had there. You were sitting next to JJ, when you looked at him shortly, before putting your head on his shoulder.

„Thank you for Punching Rafe.“, you whispered. „No need to thank me.“, he whispered back. You just smile softly for yourself.

–

A few months later, you started to stay just for a few days at your mothers since her house doesn‘t really feel like a home anymore. To your surprise she couldn‘t care less, a few months ago you would‘ve cried about that fact, but since you way over that because of your friends that are your family now, you also couldn‘t care less. Today you were back at the chateau, drinking and having fun with your friends, when something came to your mind.

„I never said, 'Thank you‘, did I?“, you said out of nowhere. „For what?“, John B asked, with everybody agreeing. „For.. Well.. Everything you did for me the past few months.“, you said smiling looking at every single one of them. „You don‘t need to thank us for that.“, Kie said. „Yeah, that‘s what friends are there for.“, Pope said. „No.“, JJ said, getting everyone off guard. „What?“, everyone said in sync. „We are not friends, we are a family. That‘s what a family is there for.“, he said standing up looking in your eyes.

Smiling, you stand up with JJ raising your Can Beer in the air.

„On us and all the years in the future we hopefully stay like this. Cheers!“, you said looking at your family. „On Us!“, everyone cheers with you taking a sip from their drinks.

All of these Numbers are available 24/7 and charge Free

–USA: 988 (suicide & life crisis lifeline) 1-866-488-7386 (The Trevor project) 678-678 (Trevor project Text [text START]) 1-877-565-8860 (Trans Lifeline)

–UK: 0800 689 5653 (National Suicide Prevention) 0800 068 4141 (Hopline 247 / PAPYRUS) ^07860039967 (Text)

–Switzerland: 143 (die Dargebotene Hand)

–Sweden: 90101 (Självmordslinjen)

–Netherlands: 0800 0113 (Stichting 113Online)

–Irland: 116 123 (Samaritans)

–Germany: 0800 111 0 111 or 0800 111 0 222 (Telefonseelsorge)

–France: 3114 (didn‘t found a name) 1-877-330-6366 (Fil santé jeunes)

–Canada: 1-833-456-4566 (Talk Suicide Canada) 1-877-330-6366 (Trans lifeline)

–Brazil: 188 (Centro de Valorização)

–Austria: 142 (Telefonseelsorge [Samaritan Telephone])

–Australia: 13 11 14 (Lifeline) 1800 55 1800 (Kids Helpline [ages 5-25])

If you want the numbers for your country tell me in the comments🫶🏻

[eclipian]

Fuck AI Headmate #3

pt: fuck ai headmate #3

reminder beings will almost definitely not turn out exactly as described, and these can be edited and changed as needed.

divider credit

“ Like snowflakes, the human pattern is never cast twice. “

Name: Winter , Blizzard , Snow , Holly , Thimble , Ice , Noel , Noelle , Viola , Elsa , Witch , Wicca , Spella , Twyllusia

Age: 30

Pronouns: She/Her , They/Them , Sh❄️/H❄️r , Th❄️y/Th❄️m , Sh*/H*r , Th*y/Th*m , Ae/Aer , Fae/Faer , Snow/Snows , Blizz/Blizzard , Frost/Frosty , Ice/Icy , Magi/Magic , Magi/Magix , Cold/Colds , Win/Winter , Agate/Agate , Spell/Spells , ❄️/❄️s , 🌨️/🌨️s , ✨/✨s , 🔮/🔮s

Gender: Demifem , Aeternix , Magic User , Undicerypt , Icelexic , Iceric , Icething , Icebitch , Winterec , Snowlexic , Snowsteppisoundic , Nimbusoftaesic , Nivetonian , Nivegonian , Snowcoric , Witchgender , Stormwitchic , Noiphasdimic , Magicreaten , Gendernoitaku

Attraction: Lesbian , Opalchroian , Geluallion , Snowallion , Tarobjectum

Other IDs: Icerooted , Glacienre , Vesice

Species: Winter Witch

Origin/Modifiers: Magiangenic

Role: Gatekeeper and Magician

Aesthetics: Winter , Winter Fairy Coquette , Witchcore , Witch Academia

Misc Info: On the quite snow covered mountain lives a witch, a witch of the snow and the winter. She covers her home away from the site of the rest of the world. But now she has opened her doors to you, reserved and quite she worries about your reactions and can be very paranoid due to that. Will you help her crack her ice?

pt: name , age , pronouns , gender , attraction , other ids , species , origins/modifiers , role , aesthetics , misc info

Disclaimer: Middle image is made with the use of AI. This blog does not condone or promote putting AI over real artist. This post is using it as a way to middle finger those who try to claim AI creations as actual pieces of art. I mod music am not making prompts for the images.a

Tag : @bahtive

[choicesbookclub]

Miss talking about your favorite Choices books? Want to replay and reminisce with others in the fandom? If you answered yes, I hope you will consider joining the Choices Book Club. All are welcome to participate! ❤️

Currently Reading:

✨It Lives in the Woods

Upcoming Book Clubs:

✨ Blades of Light and Shadow III (Wide Release: Nov. 20)

Learn more about the book club below the cut

How Book Club works:

Once a week a post will be made with chapter(s) specific questions and polls. However, late entries will always be accepted

You can make your own posts as you play. Think of it as the old days when these books were releasing and how we played as a community

You can post screenshots, reactions, dialogue, sh*tposts, memes, fanfiction, drabbles, moodboards, edits, drawings, sketches, poems, songs, + more. Just share anything that inspires you during the replay.

The goal is to discuss and react together to old favorites!

Posts that tag this blog and use the tag "choices book club" will be shared

Guidelines/Expectations

You can participate as much or as little as you want

You are welcome to read along with us even if you don't plan to post

You can read along with us and post and not tag the blog. (However, only tagged posts will be shared here)

You do not need to participate for the entirety of the book club, you can join or leave at any point.

Only posts related to the current featured book will be shared.

Please tag anything that is NSFW and/or triggering appropriately

Minors, please be responsible and DNI with posts labeled 18+/NSFW

You can combine your submission for the Book Club with other prompts/events

While it is my intention to share all posts that tag the blog and use #choices book club, I have a full time job and a life, so it might take 24-48 hours for me reblog /queue your post. If after that time you don't see it, feel free to message @lovealexhunt as we all know Tumblr tags don't always work.

Please:

be kind! You don't have to love everyone, their posts, or their opinions, but we ask that you respect everyone.

have fun!

Personal Note: Thank you to the original host of Choices Book Club, @jamespotterthefirst for letting me reboot this club. I know I had a lot of fun with the past replays and I hope more fun can be shared with the next book clubs! ❤️

Past Book Club Books

Guinevere

Veil of Secrets

The Elementalists 2 (mini book club)

The Elementalists

The Elementalists Winters Past

Blades of Light and Shadow II

Crimes of Passion II

Blades of Light and Shadow I

Crimes of Passion I

Platinum

Mother of the Year

Open Heart 2

Open Heart 1

Past Other Events

12 days of Choices Hints and Reveals

[101ocs]

101’S OC BLOG

Asks, RP, oc game/prompts, writing commissions, and other requests welcome!

Main Account: @g0ttal0ve101

TW: Mentions of violence, obsessive behavior, suggestive implications, cannibalism, child abuse, suicide, SH, ED, SA, and other sensitive topics may have involvement within posts. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Main OC List

Maximillian Collins

Tag: [❤️]

TW: Child abuse!

BIO: 12, masc (he/him), heterosexual

DOB: 8/9

Likes: Camping, animals of any kind, food of any kind, super hero comics, and collecting various items.

Dislikes: Hospitals, spiders, broccoli, bandages, and isolation.

Sam Vega

Tag: [🧡]

TW: SH, suicide, stalking, obsession!

BIO: 16, masc ftm (he/him), heterosexual

DOB: 9/7

Likes: Poetry, ferrets, mashed potatoes, horror/romance novels, and ballet.

Dislikes: Public speaking, reptiles, pork, partying, and social gatherings.

Evelyn Anderson

Tag: [💚]

TW: Verminophobia, OCD!

BIO: 15, fem (she/her), pansexual.

DOB: 4/18

Likes: Sewing/crocheting, doves, cheese cake, fashion design, and tea.

Dislikes: Filth of any kind, animals, black coffee, children 10>, and modeling.

Thomas Hall

Tag: [💙]

TW: Suggestive!

BIO: 17, masc (he/him), bisexual

DOB: 3/26

Likes: Partying, cats, spicy food, guitar/drums, and drama.

Dislikes: Hospitals, dogs, candy of any sort, and anything dealing with academics.

Lucian Williams

Tag: [💜]

TW: SA, cannibalism!

BIO: 15, masc (he/him), bisexual

DOB: 6/30

Likes: Gardening, animals, meat of any kind, arts and crafts, and tending to children.

Dislikes: Sexual themes, aquatic animals, isolation, and adult men.

Melanie Katz

Tag: [🩷]

TW: ED!

BIO: 17, nonb (she/they), lesbian

DOB: 8/29

Likes: Partying, cats, bubble-gum, softball, and skateboarding.

Dislikes: Weight gain, dogs, red meat, poor fashion sense, and silence.

TWST OC LIST

JJ

Tag: [🤍]

BIO: 16, masc (he/him)

DOB: 12/29

Likes: Deadlifting, goats, summer, snacking, and history class.

Dislikes: Drama, conflict, competition, snakes, winter, and under seasoned food.

Caspian

Tag: [🖤]

BIO: 15, masc (he/they)

DOB: 6/5

Likes: Bad weather, spiders, baked pastries, electric guitar, parkour, and flight class.

Dislikes: Lilia’s cooking, bright light, reading/writing, high temperature, and alchemy class.

TCM OC LIST

Leslie Sawyer

Tag: [💛]

TW: Cannibalism, child abuse!

BIO: 16, masc (he/him), bisexual

DOB: 12/6

Likes: Reptiles, rain, gardening, astronomy, and insects.

Dislikes: Sticky textures, tight clothes, vanilla, crowds, and being touched.

[jazzythursday]

Tagged by @aphroditestummyrolls for belated end of the year questions. Thanks for thinking of me! 🥹💖

Tagging @stormkpr @waterloou @sparrowmoth @its-tortle if you feel so inclined

What is your favourite thing you created?

I’m going with Cutting Loses for this one, because it’s the first wesper thing I posted on ao3 and the fic I go back to reread the most. It’s also a really solid example of my favourite way to write Wylan’s inner monologue and characterisation.

Which work are you proudest of?

Everyday, Just a Little or a Little Bit—My baby, my child, my 40k love letter to wesper. And I am so so close to finishing it!

Is there anything you are proud of that you achieved this year?

For writing, I’m really proud that I completed all the wesper week prompts earlier in the year. I loved participating and I feel like it helped a lot in developing my writing.

And something I’m proud of outside of writing—I’ve always had a really hard time meeting people through fandom, but finding mutuals on here through wesper and talking to so many wonderful people on discord is something I’m so proud of getting to experience. (And Mutuals reading this, just know that you make my little corner of the internet so much brighter, and even though I’m not the best at reaching out I’m always happy to chat abt anything 💖)

Did you explore anything new this year? (A new way to be creative, a trope you didn’t write before, or an idea you hadn’t thought of earlier, etc.)

Writing Wylan and Jesper as neurodivergent—and exploring my own nurodivergence through writing—is completely new to me, but it’s something that I’ve really enjoyed and want to continue this year!

Which work gave you the most difficulty?

The 4th chapter of Everyday has been a big challenge, I think just because I had a clearer direction for the first three and I always knew where I was going. Because 4th is after the original arc I planned, it’s been harder to nail down what I want out of it. I kept fighting on myself about which sections were too long and what needed more, and feeling too tired/busy/stressed to make decisions about it before winter break.

What was your biggest creative challenge this year?

Probably not letting perfectionism and low self esteem stop me from writing? Getting myself to actually write, and then edit, and actually post things—feeling like my writing is actually worth beta-ing and caring about as much as I do, etc. I go through periods sometimes of not being able to even look at my drafts without feeling overwhelmed, and so not falling off the wagon completely even through my accidental hiatus the last few months has been a real challenge.

Which work brought you the most joy?

Hmm. As far as fics go I want to say it’s Everyday? Buts it’s also brought me the most stress lol. I think what’s really brought me the most joy is just talking to people about my fics. Getting feedback on ao3 and on all the drabbles I’ve posted on tumblr throughout the year.

Which of your works do you think people should check out?

All of them if they want to! But Everyday, Just a Little or a Little Bit, Cutting Losses, I Need to Leave (Please Stay), and Careless is The Fall are all personal faves of mine.

Do you have creative plans for next year? Is there anything exciting you’re currently working on?

SO MANY (if I can find the time and energy) that I’m really excited to get to! Even once I post the last chapter of Everyday, there’s still so many moments and scenes and ideas from it that I’ve wanted to expand into one shots. To name a few: an expanded scene from the end of ch 2, Jesper’s pov of some of ch 3, and an outsider pov with the bookkeeper from ch 1 (he has a name and his husband has a name and they both have backstories 🤗)

There are also still a lot of wips in my docs that I’ve been neglecting. The wylan whump fic, jealous jesper, multiple post-ck things, jesper character study, and so many more.

Lastly, any words of wisdom or anything else you would like to share?

Write what you want to read, and chances are that it will find other people who will be so happy you wrote it.

[edwinspaynes]

Hey hey hey Shadowhunter’s It-Girl (yes i meant it, when i said you ARE the it queeen)

RE Feel good vibes!

OMG just readingggg through your wonderful message and how deliciously indulgent your replies are gave me mad feel good vibes and made me want to bedoink a hammer on my head for not doing it sooner!!!!

I am so glad to hear you’re visiting Japan! What prompted you to want to go there? Like walk me through that brain thought 😊.

Re Dead Boy Detectives!

I am veryyyy aware of your love for Dead Boy Detectives! I love how much you love them! And massive fingers crossed that it gets renewed for a season 2! I know on the ends of comics (non exclusive to just the Dead Boys ongoing but also Fables, Sandman essentially everything that ISN’T batman or a superhero comic) tends to be very much on the ‘unlikely to get a run’ so i’m always fingers crossed. YK? CUZ I GET IT.

Re Book recs

Thank you sooooo much for the lovely book recs! Even if their random if you have more please let me know them! And who/and what do you think a shadowhunter character would react while reading it, or if they would reccomend it to another internally? 🤭

Re Matthewwwwwwwwww

Also a bit of a, in medias reas inserted ask- If TMI is fall, and TID is winter, and TDA is Summer… what do you think is the most appropriate synergistic time to read/reread TLH? Wicked Powers does give me for some reason Spring vibes. But maybe it will be Summer cuz Los Angeles and all… ANYWAY would love to know your thoughts on that!

And OMG, LOVEEEE That Matthew is with his golden retirever! have you managed to sus out from easter egg droppings any intel on his ship? If its a she…? or him��� or they.?

Re Asking the It-Girl of Shadowhunters to potentially give me the low down of what i have missed from the fandom these past two-three months i have been away!

I really am soooo out of the loop on all recent happenings and shiftings and lurkings in the fandom? Have there been any? Any new releases? Any new CC updates?

Have you bought anything new shadowhunter related? Like either in terms of art… or memorabilia?

Finally, my kickstarter box hasn’t been shipped either girlie! I am right there with you!!!!! I am not really that mad because I feel like i know this might sound weird, but even from my hiatus of Shadowhunters i still felt really well fed with all the lovely bonus chapters you always post! I loveddd two days ago the newly posted James and Cordelia’s Primemark Adventure bonus chap for example. It just REALLY Just is so well written AND it always satiates that era and time period of London so deeply!

Cheers to more ❤️‍🔥🌈🌈🌈🤗

JAPAN! So one of my best friends lives there. She's dear to me. I'm visiting her! But also, I've wanted to go to Japan since I was a little kid because I grew up in a Japanese language/culture immersion program. So this is like, a lifelong dream coming true!

I'm going to do TSC blorbo book recs in another post :) Just for you!

Honestly, TLH is always going to give me spring vibes. (Oddly, this is probably my strongest time-of-the-year TSC association - it's just such a gentle and comforting series, like a breezy spring day with flowers blooming after the frost is gone for the year.) I associate it from start to finish with light academia pastel vibes and dewy flowers, and the end of ChoT is New Beginnings incarnate.

Here's a recent commission I bought that reflects the Vibe of TLH for me! It's on my wall now. :)

But yes, agree that TID is winter (for Wessa proposal lmao) and that TMI is fall based on Vibes. Not sure about TWP yet since I've only read the first chapter, I'll wait and see what I think when it comes out!

Re: Matthew ship! We got a snippet (now on Cassie's Tumblr) that brought up a young man named Sylvain Allard. I thought from Moment 1 that he was probably Matthew's love interest.

Catching Up With the Fandom.

Some stuff you may have missed!

Matthew snippets one and two. three. The novella is called A Sea Change! Matthew art is what I showed you before.

The Matthew sticker was accidentally excluded from the first KS box, so he will be arriving fashionably late in the same box as his novella.

The Thomas journal is unfortunately paperback rather than hardback as advertised. This has disappointed me, but it's okay.

I assume you got the Better in Black list, but if not, it's Wessa, Herondaisy, Thomastair, Arianna, Clace, Sizzy, Sebastian/Seelie Queen, Luke/Jocelyn, Blackstairs, and Kierarktina.

First chapter of TWP has been making the rounds via DM, I have indeed read it. It met my expectations. Let me know if you want me to DM it to you.

Anddd....

I'm so glad that you have been enjoying my "bonus chapters!" I hope to have one I'm currently working on up in a couple of days. We shall see. :)

I'm not upset that my box hasn't shipped, there are four (4) people shipping out like 10,000 boxes. It's gonna take a while, and it's okay. I'll be happy when it gets here!

[ao3feed-sambucky]

An Unfortunate Article

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/8tE05la by shivu Bucky has a good day, until it isn't. One of the major events that prompted Sam to suggest that Bucky gets a service dog. Excerpt: Today was a rare day; a good day. He woke up kind of late in the morning. He didn't have any nightmares, so he actually slept more than six hours relatively peacefully. He made pasta, a little too much pasta; so he put some in the freezer, good for days when all he can do is throw something in the microwave then pass out. He even pre portioned it. Bucky's day was going pretty ok. There was some joint pain here and there; a migraine he woke up with, but quickly went away. He sang some music while washing the dishes from the pasta. It was nice. It's a little past 7pm, he'd decided to read a little. He'd read a little and scrolled through article after article. Maybe he should find something for dinner tomorrow- A news article about him pops up. AN: Contains descriptive flashbacks and dialogue of the Asset in sexual situations, Bucky clearly is disturbed by past events as "he"/the Asset couldn't consent due to brainwashing. Has a reference of self harm and a suicidal thought- both are in between flashbacks and no sh or suicide takes place. Words: 2623, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Long Haired Bucky Fandoms: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Categories: M/M Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, Hydra Agents, Sharon Carter (Marvel) Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Choking, Dissociation, Flashbacks, Vomiting, its only referenced and isnt described in detail, Bucky Barnes has Chronic Pain, Chronic Pain, Headaches & Migraines, Men Crying, Crying, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, sh and suicidal thoughts are vaguely mentioned in between flashbacks, Body Horror, Falling asleep in each other's arms, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes struggles with words, Bucky Barnes uses ALS, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes has longer hair, Long Hair Bucky, Implied/Referenced Torture, Hydra (Marvel), HYDRA Trash Party, Post-Canon, Post-TFATWS read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/8tE05la

[musetotheworld]

Victory Ficlet anon here- wouldn't mind an expansion on that bodyguard/princess ficlet but if you want to keep things separate, would cowboy/wild west be a prompt of interest to you...? 👀

I'm not feeling an expansion (that's how you get WIPs) but a wild west AU I can definitely do!

.

"I'm not sure how much further it'll be safe, ma'am," Kara says as she helps her new boss over a fallen log. The path back to Cat's holding is still rough, too rough for a wagon to make it through. Kara's working on it, but with so much still needing done it's not a high priority. There's still plenty of time before she needs to lay in supplies for the winter.

"If it's safe enough for you, it's safe enough for me," Cat say stubbornly. She's made it a lot further than Kara'd expected her to, she'll give her that. But in her full skirts and dainty shoes, Kara's not sure how long that'll last. And any further than this it'll be just as hard to turn back as it will be to continue.

Another tree, this one smaller, and then they get to the rocks. "Beggin' your pardon, ma'am. But the rest of the trail is awful rough. We're gettin' close to the cabin, but it's not easy road from here on out."

"I suppose you'd call the first part of the trip easy then, would you?" Cat asks, resting against a boulder for a moment to catch her breath. "A nice quiet stroll in the woods?"

"Well, easy ain't my first thought," Kara admits. "Not with a pack full of goods plus watchin' for bears or anything else out there." Not that it's been difficult, but she's not about to admit that to Cat. Not when her new boss is paying so handsomely for her to get the holding set up.

Cat looks suspiciously at the woods around them, then pushes herself upright. "The sooner we get there, the better for us both, then. I can handle a little rough trail, I'd just very much like to be done walking."

Kara will also give Cat that much, she doesn't back down from a challenge. Even with spending most of her time after Cat hired her out in the woods getting things taken care of, she's spotted that much.

Of course, gumption only gets you so far when you're not properly dressed for the terrain, and they're almost to the holding when Cat slips, one ankle twisting under her as she tries to keep her balance. Only Kara's quick reactions keep her from going down completely, and it's not quick enough to completely save her from injury.

"It's definitely sprained," Cat says as she tries to put weight on it. "I don't think it's broken though, or it'd hurt a lot more."

Looking around to place exactly where they are, Kara debates what to do. They don't have too much further to go, but it's over terrain bad enough she doesn't think Cat will be able to make it on her own, even if Kara can find wood to make a quick crutch for her. Which means she'll need Kara's help, and that'll be difficult with the size of the pack she's carrying.

She could leave the pack here and get Cat to the cabin, but she really needs these supplies. Leaving them behind is just asking for something to go wrong. But there's no way in hell she'd leave Cat by herself out here. Not when she hadn't fully been joking about the bears in the area.

Well, nothing for it, then. "Ma'am, we're nearly to the cabin, but I don't think you'd fare well on the path between here and there, not with that ankle of yours. So if you'll let me, I think I'm gonna have to carry you the rest of the way."

Cat stares at her in disbelief for a long moment, then glances down at her ankle and lets out a sigh. "If you think that's the best way, I'll just have to trust you, now won't I? Not like I have much of a choice."

"I promise I'll be careful," Kara says, slightly stung by the response but trying not to show it as she carefully scoops Cat into her arms. "Path might be rough, but I've got the shoes for it, and I know it well enough to be safe."

With Cat in her arms like this it's hard for Kara to focus, but she'd run away from 'civilized' society years ago for a reason. She's not about to do something stupid now.

"Oop," Cat yelps as Kara picks her up, clutching at her shoulders until she feels settled. "That's not what I- oh drat it all, Kara Danvers. I do trust you. I just don't do well with pain. Now if you and your inconveniently convenient muscles would get us to the cabin, I'd really like to be done walking now."

"Inconveniently convenient?" Kara can't help wondering, stuck on that phrase even as she starts carefully walking forward.

She's surprised to see a blush on Cat's face, but the woman won't actually look at her, staring determinedly out into the woods instead.

Well then. That'll be a fun thought for Kara to puzzle over for the next few days while they're stuck in the cabin waiting for Cat's ankle to heal up.

But for now, she's got to get them there safely.

[minecraft-fanfiction-house]

@Crafting-Minecraft-Fanfiction

CWs: Disease, Cannibalism, emotionally abusive, Burn Wound.

I have grabbed 3 random blocks to introduce myself with. (Burn Wound, Cannibalism and Disease, Emotionally Abusive)

Ocs Based of Prompts and daydreams i already had in my head, that ended up fitting the generated blocks (Podzel was one where i just added the ideas that were in my saved pintrest box and instagrammed favirites. Like their parents and sweater dirtied by moss.)

You probably arnt able to read my handwriting. Yeah i couldve typed... and i shouldve, i really shouldve.

My rambling of information i will give is uneven as sand! Posted earlier on Co-host

BeeKeeperer

'As much as merchant jobs are looked down upon, honey endeavours of illagers who want to keep bees and keep flowers are the exception... '

This profession among illager units is a lot more diverse when it comes to bees. As an example with BeeKeeperer housing Vulture bees to make honey jerky with cow blood. But never pigs blood! as cannibls use it as a substitute, seeing it as a bad omen and a path to unrighteousness. {Country unnamed but they live in an active political fued only personal to the council.}

Their was an incident that happend during a winter storm, far less worse but destructive in flinging a whole tree- so yeah, less worse. Shattered glass and the rose dyed snow. Attracting a villager nearby, whos from the path of fox traps, {Whoever put those their}... They were pretty terrafied, and were so scared of being seen by the eyes of a cannibal from noted interviews of another more cooperative cannibalism of Pirana Village 'They love the nickname so much they kept it?' Which hat Illager, dragging a drunken BeeKeeperer. Turns out Ravager's blood has a lot more of a kick once they ingust alchol, or duchess can make alchol in her system like their Raveger {Illager Caretaker}

Plaguetor

'Their is a plauge in parts of villages and patrol unit's along with wild patrols. One may worry its of cannibles disease for it to have spread this long. It is slow, and theirs a pityful end to the animals'

Their Faith is that of Elements and health. The sacredness of the elements of fire, air, water and earth. They help with burial practice and did research on the scavanger animals given to them from their diety's blessing on a marking on one of the vulture eggs. With omens of a sickness spreading among deer witn odd behaviours of canniblsm. The Silent Tower is

… Jobless Teen {Vigliger}

"Where are your parents from"

"My mom was is from village 'meadow peak' by that hunk of forest and mushrooms my dad lived in."

"Oh your parents are an illager and villager,"

"Yup"

"Aww forbidden love"... "...Sure"

'An Arranged marriage that both of their own parents agreed to have, instead of them.'

Considering how cats can see our stripes and how podzel is grazingly burnt. i meshed those two into the skin. They do look a lot like their father, and their skinn shows their moms invisible stripe color pattern. I found this to be a cool idea when podzel was generated to me. Along with the metaphors ^^ I love the idea of wearing their dads trench coat, it made them blend in, if only for their clothing. They might be a more, grazed by presence if they werent good at being quite when they can. Others wouldnt notice that, they all assume Podzel show up into the room. They make their presence know with one sentance and they can immiditly leave, "You haven't stayed their for very long" Their mothers speach starts soft, and thats when they knew a crabs pincer would be better. As long as they dont have to get picnhed on sand, the smooth rocks that touchs the waters foam, is always so much better.

"Go, you arnt ruining the danm party planned by that scrubbed womens daughter. Just- Have Fun, or sit quitly in the corner without disturbing anyone." their mother wanted them to show face. Cant reason its because they dont want them here, it would be an annoying lie if id they proclaimed they did.

(Chatgpt told me she isnt using coarse langouge lol, but it shows what i had in mind. I guess not so publicly near a party an ongoing, but she wouldnt want to be to loud if she did anyways.)

{ Psychologically complicated, like all brains are. Consider I am a fixitous internet user and by that I mean I’m ADHD and I love calling my brain Dave. } "I keep losing something everyday and no matter how hard i try onces my dopamine is slightly lower to something I enjoy, im unable to finnish it, or enjoy it more proactivly" Lol, I really need to go back to my psychiatrist.

My love of learning history, about other cultures and religions like the Zoroastrianism faith and their funeral practice. Taking inspiration and interest in a lot of things. Learning things from diffrent sites, interviews and connecting t with other ideas like with vultures. From tumblr facts post and idea prompts on vultures being holy. I know, i know I have named the vultures but i haven't drawn them. But soon. They are bearded vultures ^^

My writing abilities for creating my characters, with care and understanding. Since I did just create them I haven't really had a chance to hurt them more than whatever job they already have to imply that.. Like death, or wearing a mask due to a traumatic incident along with letting bees sleep on you like cats and getting poisoned.

I did this all in 4 days, i would've written it all up but i noticed i might get burn out so i risked another day where i might lose my hyper fixation, and all my ideas... You can i had a lot of fun rambling. But I wont put myself to a high expectations. Loved naming conventions, might rename or have to give my ocs names. Whiiich, i made my beekeeper name jerky and like illusinor jasper in the codes, both seemed uniqe proffesions of beast taming and the other of illusionist arts that its named after them! I like that idea a lot, And maybe it meets the way they handled their profession is uniqe, Blood and a Rock... Lol you i'm making this up as I go <3

I do hope to have a sona soon, but it’s fanfic, ie been writing Minecraft fanfic(also my splatoon tag). Never completed a story, I’m just writing it, even my oneshots taking to long.

Also box of unnecesary rambles that would fit into intos post... If i had the time to draw it

[Attacking wolfs and zombie's unnatruly, seeming to only decay continuelly they come down to two seperate definitions. 'Zombie deer' from a zombie priest who helps them be docile and 'Chronic wasting Diseased Deer' CWDD. "Chemical Warefare Directinal Detecter?" Confusion scrunchs up the Vultures leatherd face, looking beside them to a sign into a facility, "...No, But i can decree why youd assume. I am formally of the mind of researching the the 'Chronic Wasting Disease Deer' odd behavours that dont quickly decompose their mouths to stop biting so aggresivly. Gladly they do tend to lack cordanation."]

[vghtsupes]

@thcrealheroes ; homelander : ☆ ; sender snuggles receiver under a blanket for warmth. fall / autumn / halloween prompts ; accepting.

     𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞  𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭  𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝  𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫,     she  liked  autumn  and  winter,  the  change  in  the  seasons,  the  exciting  holidays  of  halloween  and  christmas,  the  potential  for  snow.     she  had  known  what  to  expect  when  she  was  home  in  iowa  and  she  had  been  figuring  out  what  to  expect  from  new  york's  weather.     she  didn't  know  what  to  expect  now  that  they  were  living  in  the  uk,  all  she  knew  was  about  the  rain  which  she  could  handle,  she  wouldn't  even  mind  the  cold  and  snow.     what  annie  hadn't  expected  was  the  sudden  change  in  temperature,  like  how  it  went  from  feeling  like  summer  one  week  and  then  the  next,  it  was  cold  and  she  felt  like  she  couldn't  stay  warm.     she  was  wandering  around  their  home  in  a  large  hoodie,  hoping  it  would  keep  her  warm  and  she  still  felt  like  she  was  shivering.     how  was  john  just  okay  with  this?     he  barely  seemed  to     𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞     that  the  temperature  had  dropped.     maybe  all  those  years  flying  just  built  a  tolerance  up  that  she  just  did  not  have.     considering  that  things  were  definitely  not  as  tense  between  them  anymore,  annie  also  knew  that  he  liked  the  idea  of  acting  like  the  perfect  husband,  which  she  knew  he  wouldn't  be  likely  to  deny  her  request.

     𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐮𝐩  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞  𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭  𝐬𝐡𝐞  𝐡𝐚𝐝  𝐢𝐧  𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦,     moving  towards  the  living  room  where  he  was,  teeth  pulling  on  her  bottom  lip  for  a  moment  because  he  could  say  no.     she  just  had  to  hope  that  he  would  not  think  this  whole  thing  is  ridiculous  and  he  would  see  that  she  needed  just  a  little     𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭     and  warmth  right  now.     she  would  love  to  not  feel  cold  for  a  short  while.     giving  him  a  smile  as  she  stood  in  front  of  him,     "     hey,  i  know  the  cold  doesn't  seem  to  be  bothering  you  too  much,  but  i'm  really  feeling  it     .     .     .     would  you  be  okay  with  just  laying  under  the  blanket  with  me,  so  i  can  finally  not  feel  cold  for  a  little  bit,     "     annie  asked,  shifting  on  her  feet  slightly  as  she  waited  for  his  answer,  her  heart  beating  hard  in  her  chest  as  she  looked  at  him.     she  half  expected  him  to  just  say  no,  to  completely  dismiss  her  attempt  to  get  a  little  closer  to  him,  but  instead  he  surprises  her  with  actually  agreeing  to  her  request  causing  her  to  smile  at  him  widely.     annie  moves  quickly,  as  if  john  might  change  his  mind  if  she  didn't  move  quickly.     she  moves  onto  the  couch  with  him,  laying  beside  him  as  best  she  could,  pulling  the  blanket  over  the  both  of  them  and  she  got  as  close  to  him  as  she  could  manage, her  head  resting  on  his  shoulder,  one  of  her  arms  drapped  over  his  stomach  as  she  resisted  the  urge  to  put  one  of  her  legs  over  his.     this  was  still  far  more     𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞     than  anything  they  had  done  since  they  had  ran  away  from  vought  together.

     𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡  𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝  𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲  𝐚𝐬  𝐬𝐡𝐞  𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭  𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟  𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱  𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭  𝐡𝐢𝐦,     extremely  grateful  that  he  said  yes  and  she  couldn't  deny  how  good  this  felt.     to  be  pressed  up  against  him,  under  the  blanket  and  feeling  warmer  than  she  had  in  what  felt  like  ages.     this  sudden  cold  weather  had  sent  a  chill  through  her  that  she  could  finally  feel  like  it  was  thawing.     plus  despite  her  best  efforts  to  ignore  it,  annie  knew  she  was  also  just  looking  for  an  excuse  to  be  close  to  john.     this  was  definitely  the  most  unexpected  thing.     realising  she  was  starting  to  get  feelings  for  homelander,  no,  for  john.     it  had  started  small,  just  little  things  that  made  her  feel  less  alone,  then  it  was  more  curiosity,  than  daydreams,  wanting  to  know  more  about  him  and  helping  him  navigate  all  this  unfamiliar  things  of  a     𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧     life  that  he  had  never  experienced.     even  the  physical  contact  felt  normal  now,  just  small  touches  here  and  there  when  it  was  just  the  two  of  them.     of  course,  the  acting  like  a  husband  and  wife  when  out  and  about  in  public  was  just  part  of  it,  it  almost  felt  like  whenever  vought  had  sent  them  to  do  things  and  they  were  just  following  talking  points.     it  was  all  the  moments  when  it  was  just  the  two  of  them  and  no  one  could  see  them  that  made  her  heart  race  and  yearn  for  more  moments  with  him.

     𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝  𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦  𝐡𝐢𝐬  𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫  𝐚𝐬  𝐬𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝  𝐮𝐩  𝐚𝐭  𝐡𝐢𝐦,     her  hand  moving  to  rest  on  his  chest  just  above  his  heart.     she  had  started  noticing  how  beautiful  john  was  a lot  more  recently.     yes,  she  had  always  known  he  was  attractive,  like  she  wasn't  blind  or  stupid.     john  was  attractive  and  he  always  had  been.     but  it  was  more  the  little  details,  the  way  his  hair  fell  into  his  face  now  it  was  slightly  longer,  the  way  the  light  caught  those  blue  eyes  of  his,  the  curve  of  his  lips  and  the  way  he  smiled  at  her  when  he  thought  she  couldn't  see  it.     yep,  she  was  definitely  falling  in  love  with  him  and  she  didn't  think  there  was  any  way  of  stopping  it.     annie  also  had  no  idea  if  he  even  felt  the  same,  or  whether  this  was  just  all  part  of  playing  the  role  to  him,  she  doubted  she  would  ever  be  able  to  get  an  answer     𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭     exposing  herself  in  an  emotionally  vulnerable  way  that  she  didn't  know  if  she  could  do  yet,     "     thanks  for  agreeing  to  this.     i'm  usually  pretty  good  with  the  cold,  the  winters  could  be  pretty  bad  back  home.     i  just  wasn't  exactly  prepared  for  it  to  suddenly  change,     "     she  admits,  though  she  was  sure  it  just  sounded  like  excuses  and  she  could  feel  herself  getting  pink  in  the  face,     "     wanna  watch a  movie  or  something?     since  i  don't  think  we're  gonna  be  moving  for  a  while,     "

[surielstea]

Gifts and Debts

Fic requested by @weirdo-fun

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader (marriage of convenience au)

Summary: Azriel and Reader are out shopping for solstice when Reader stumbles upon someone from her past and Azriel’s sees to it that she forgets about him.

Warnings: PDA | Reader is a former courtesan | very, very slight nsfw, public (ish) | Azriel being feral for reader at all times.

3k words.

It was the last market day before Winter Solstice, which meant pop-up shops and vendor carts lined the main streets of Velaris, selling anything from hand-made jewelry to warm meals.

The streets were teeming with last-minute shoppers dressed in their warmest coats, everyone seeking warmth so much so that one of the cocoa vendors had a line around the corner.

I stood at one of the less crowded establishments, staring at the crystals beneath the protective glass, twisting my wedding ring around my fourth finger, a habit I picked up the moment it was placed on my finger.

"Come, this way," A familiar voice says and I turn from the crystals to face him, the dark-haired male holding out his scarred hand as an invitation. I pull my scarf up higher, hiding my flushed cheeks as I intertwine our cold hands. It was just so the crowd didn't split us up.

"I still have to get Rhys a solstice present," Azriel murmured, using the advantage of his height to look over the bustling crowd.

"The High Lord is the last on your list?" I giggle teasingly.

"Who says I got anything for you?" He lifted a dark brow at me and I frowned, squeezing his hand slightly.

"I think Mor and Cassian would beat you up if you didn't get anything for your wife," I state and he tenses slightly as if he's never heard me call him my husband before. I have, of course, many times to win arguments or just to tease him, so what was the difference now?

— flashback —

As a girl born in the Hewn City, I really didn't have much of a choice when it came to my line of work. It was a Courtesan or a housewife. And I wasn't exactly wealthy enough to afford the pretty dresses or delicate perfumes that would draw in the suitors in the first place. So courtesan it was.

Madame Welder was an older lady but I swore there wasn't a wrinkle on her. She was also the only person I've ever been afraid of, and I was her favorite disciple, lucky me.

It was my bidding day today, a day in every courtesan's life that would determine her fate of success. A day when men across courts would offer an obscene amount of money to take her virginity.

I dreaded this day. "At least you look pretty?" Mor smiled from beside my head, her hands planted on my shoulders as I stared at myself in the mirror, the dress I wore was more conservative than I had been expecting, don't get me wrong it wasn't modest by any means, but I've seen other girls dressed in sheer white chiffon for their own bidding days.

The gown was made of delicate white silk, and my décolletage was enunciated by curtaining fabric, covering just enough to prompt curiosity. The length was short, but not alarming enough for me to be embarrassed.

I did look pretty. I didn't exactly feel it.

"Yeah," I murmured. "At least I look pretty," I sigh, spinning on my heel, deciding the sight of myself was too foreign to handle. I walk towards my vanity and reapply my slightly faded lipstick.

A knock at the door made me flinch, I wasn't ready for this.

"Dearest, it's time," My Madame’s voice says through the door and my spine stiffens. I looked to Morrigan with creased brows.

"Everything will be fine," She smiles at me so casually the facade makes me believe her for a moment. "I'm taking care of everything alright?" She hums, coming closer to cup my cheeks. "Alright?" She repeats and I nod, my shoulders slightly relaxing and she smiles a bit brighter.

"Good."

The Shadow Singer had bet on me that night, in fact, he bet the largest sum that my Madame had ever made off a girl. She was more than happy to usher me off towards him.

"Az? What are you doing?" I whisper shout at him the moment we're in solitude. "Did Morrigan not tell you the plan?" His brows furrow, creasing in the center.

"The plan— what are you talking about?" I shake my head confused.

"We're getting you out of here," He says simply and I blink, then blink again, making sure I wasn't imagining this.

"I can't just leave, I'm indebted to my Madame," I explain and he rolls his eyes as if I should've already figured all this out.

"I just paid her more than she's made in her career, you don't owe her anything."

"But—" I begin.

"No buts, Morrigan and I devised a whole plan to get you out of this wretched city, you're not ruining it because of your good morality," He tuts, cutting me off and a frown pulls at my lips.

"No, Az it's not that," I sigh with a shake of my head. He cocks a brow, waiting for an explanation.

"Every girl under Madame Welder's wing is, more or less forced into entering a bargain with her," I pause, only to swallow thickly before continuing. "A girl cannot leave her organization until she has met the qualifications," I finish but his confusion still lingers.

"The qualifications being?" His head tilts and I rock slightly on my stiletto heels, my feet aching.

"There's only three, the first is that the girl has made Madame Welder a certain amount of money," I murmured and Azriel snorted. "I think I crossed that one off, the others?" He leaned back against the hallway wall, so very casual as he gracefully swept his hair away from his eyes.

"The second is that it must be after your bidding day, which we now needn’t worry about,” I murmur, upright about the third and final requirement. He noticed my stress but said nothing, waiting for me to finish.

“The third is marriage.” I finally manage to spit out and he blinks, his shoulders relaxing as he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank the cauldron I thought it’d be far worse,” Azriel hummed and I looked at him like he was crazy. “We'll find you someone to marry,” He waved me off.

My brows creased. Someone would have to give up their chance at love so I could have a chance at freedom? It didn’t feel right. I’ve never been free, marriage meant surrendering my family name, which meant that I was one-half of someone else that I barely knew.

“Who would possibly give up their freedom if only to grant mine?” I narrowed my gaze and he shrugged. “We’ll get married,” He suggested and a pink flush warmed my cheeks. “We can figure this out, I’m not leaving you here,” He shakes his head, grabbing my hand in his. I squeezed it in reply, my blush still blazingly hot across my face.

He suddenly pulled me down a hall and I yelped as he took me towards the exit of the slightly crumbling tower. “Where are we going?” I asked with pursed lips.

“I bought you for the night didn’t I?” He cast a glance back towards me with a sly wink. If I wasn’t red, I most certainly was now. My spine stiffened but I continued to race after him. “Relax,” His thumb brushed over the back of my palm reassuringly. “We’re going to find you a ring.”

———

I was grateful for him that day, even more grateful that it was him Morrigan selected to bid for me. Not that I'd ever admit it aloud, but gods was I glad it was he was the one, out of all the others, who ended up putting a ring on my finger.

"Stay close," Azriel snapped me out of my thoughts but before I could register what he said, he pulled me into the crowd. I squeezed onto his hand tighter as I weaseled my way through people to keep up with him. He let go of my hand in favor of slipping it around my waist, holding me close to him as we traveled through the sea of people.

Lucky for us, most people of Velaris feared Illyrians so everyone made an effort to avoid us at the sight of Azriel's wings.

"What are you thinking of getting Rhys?" I ask as we weave and bob through the crowd.

"I have no idea. What do you get a lord who already has everything?" He sighs.

"A lint roller?" I suggest and he turns to look at me, slightly confused but I brush him off. "How about a new pair of shoes?" I try but his skeptical expression remains.

"He's not Morrigan," Azriel grumbles and I roll my eyes, continuing to shuffle alongside him. "What'd you get him?"

I shrug. "A new fancy jacket, say what you want. The male likes his clothes," I state and he only nods, his mind reeling.

We continue to walk in silence for a few minutes before he suddenly tightens his hold on me and pulls me in another direction.

"You really have to stop yanking me everywhere, I'm going to get whiplash one of these days," I huff as we enter a small, cozy bookstore. I look at him incredulously and he brushes me off.

“Since when does the High Lord read?” I scoff, walking down an aisle of colorful, and very enticing spines.

“We’re not here for Rhys,” He shook his head and I looked at him bewildered, my brows bunched. “Go on, pick out a book,” He waved me off and I blinked, still slightly confused. He sighed, giving me a soft smile.

“I got you a gift already, but I figured I wouldn’t exactly be fulfilling my role as the best husband ever if I didn’t spoil you,” He flashed me a pearly smile, showcasing a pair of dimples that I loved so dearly.

“How many can I get?” I ask him cheekily, as a joke surely, only expecting him to get me one but instead, he reaches to his side and picks up a wicker basket from its stack. “You can fill this up,” He handed me the basket and my eyes nearly popped from the sockets.

“Gods I could kiss you,” I muse, crashing into him in a hug. He didn’t stumble, but it took him a moment before he hugged me back. Registering what I said, I quickly pulled back. “Sorry,” I murmur, clutching the handle of the basket tighter.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “That was the reaction I was looking for,” He smirked and I blinked, my breath caught in my throat.

He jerked his head towards the books behind me and I closed my mouth, realizing I must’ve been staring at him like a gaping fish. “Thank you,” I say, normally this time, and spin on my heel to examine the titles and covers of the many volumes.

I was in the midst of skimming through some adventure tale when a glimpse of someone caught my eye. I looked up, spotting a blonde male in the aisle beside mine. My breath hitched and I quickly slammed the book shut, putting it back on the shelf and walking as fast as I could without running towards the other direction. I foolishly bumped into a hard chest before I could turn the corner.

Fortunately, it was only Azriel. His shadows swirled around my ankles worriedly. “Everything alright?” His hands come to my shoulders and I swallow thickly. “Yeah,” I nod, glancing back to the male in the other direction who I wish I didn’t recognize. I looked back to my husband but his gaze had already followed mine, picking up on what I was running away from.

“You know him?” His expression hardened.

“No!” I blurted out, terribly loud and I clapped my hand over my mouth nervously. He gave me a pointed look and my shoulders slumped. “Fine, yes. He was a patron at Madame Welder's organization,” I say with a hushed tone. “He always kept an eye on me. If you weren’t the one that won on my bidding day, it would’ve been him,” I explain in a murmur and his face contorts, not into anger but rather… amusement?

“What’s so funny?” I scowl.

“We’re married.” He grabbed my left hand, holding it up to showcase the ridiculously large diamond on my fourth finger. “Remember?” He tilts his head but my frown remains. “As far as I can tell, there’s no ring on his finger. This means two things, one: you’re taken. And two: you’re doing a lot better than he is,” He said unambiguously. I swallowed down my nerves.

“Yes, but this,” I gestured between the two of us. “It isn’t real,” I argue, keeping my voice low.

“It can be,” He smirks, and my flush returns. “To him, at least,” He goes on.

“What do you want me to do? Kiss you in front of him?” I cross my arms.

“I mean unless you want to keep hiding behind me then go right ahead, but when he looks over at you and recognizes not the ring on your finger, but your shyness he’s going to think you’re the same girl you were ten years ago.” He explains.

“I’m not.”

“I know that, but don’t you want him to know too?” He raises a brow.

“You’re just trying to manipulate me, so desperate for some touch in your life,” I narrow my gaze on him.

He smiled, then shrugged. “Have it your way, I’ll be over here.” He began to stroll towards the male I was so terrified of being seen by.

I cast a glance at the blonde and noticed he was walking closer. “Wait he’s coming over here,” I grabbed Azriel by his shirt and he stumbled towards me finding purchase on the shelf beside my head, caging me against it.

“Oh, now you want my help?” He taunted and I rolled my eyes.

“Shut up and kiss me already,” I pulled at his shirt again and he wasted no time in following my command.

His lips were tender against mine and warmed me so thoroughly that I thought about stripping from my winter jacket. We’ve kissed before, for our wedding, and a few times after that in front of crowds to prove our love, but it didn’t feel like any of the previous kisses this time.

Because this time it was just us, the rest of the world melting away as my arms sling around his neck, one of my hands tangling into his black hair while my other one traces lines on the top of his taut wings.

He pushed me back onto the shelf, cradling my hips as he pressed against me, needing our kiss to be deeper.

It could’ve been a peck, could’ve been an innocent, chaste moment. But when his tongue swiped at my lower lip I understood that both of us wanted so much more than that.

I opened my mouth, granting his tongue access and gods did it feel good to be explored so fervently by him. He was hungry, like he’d been aching to taste me for years and he wasn’t prepared to give me up anytime soon.

He shifted, kicking my legs wider, and pressed his knee against the apex of my thighs. Every nerve in my body thrummed in reaction, my back arching off the shelf, my chest pushing against his. I needlessly gripped his hair, using all my energy to resist grinding against his leg.

“Az,” I murmur onto his lips, trying to convince myself to pull away but my willpower wasn’t strong enough, because to be honest, the last thing I wanted to do was end this.

“Hm?” He murmurs in reply.

“We’re in public,” I reminded and he nodded, very aware of our surroundings, aware of everything in fact. His shadows were slithering up my torso sporadically. He removed his knee from my core and a soft sigh escaped my lips. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” He whispered, then kissed me gently once more, just a soft peck this time. I was slightly shaky as he pulled away entirely. I nodded, licking my lips and savoring the lingering taste of him.

I turned back to the bookshelf, completely forgetting about the blonde male across the way until an unfamiliar voice spoke from beside me. “Pardon me, can I get by you?” I turned to the sound, finding the blonde male. I froze for a moment. It wasn’t him. I had no idea who this man was. I was so stupid to think someone so wretched from the Hewn City would be here, in the most protected city in the world. I catch myself, quickly peeling my leaden feet from the floor, scooting closer to the shelf so he could pass.

Azriel looks at me, slightly alarmed. “It wasn’t him,” I murmur, and this time my husband’s amusement actually forms into a laugh.

“You just wanted me to kiss you,” He teases and she crinkles her nose in spite.

“It was your idea,” I huffed, stomping away to a separate aisle, far away from him. But he caught me quickly, his arms slinging over my shoulders as he hugged me from behind while I examined a display table of Sellyn Drake's new novel.

After what felt like only another moment my basket was filled and Azriel had paid for each book, making me promise that I’d be surprised when I opened them on Solstice morning.

We stepped back out into the cold, my hand in Azriel’s while his other held my heavy bag of books. I smiled greedily, looking up at him. A gust of wind blew past us and it wiped away my smile, a shiver running down my back as my eyes stung from the cold.

“Come on, let’s go home,” He pulled at my hand and I looked up at him curiously.

“What about Rhys’ present?” I say and he shrugs.

“You’re cold, I’ll find something for Rhys another time,” He proposed and I nodded, squeezing his hand a little tighter and inching closer. I blamed my body for seeking warmth but we both knew that the kiss we shared meant more than we played off.

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