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lavendertom · 7 months

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The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 3

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of garrett’s kidnapping + mikes trauma from that, fluff, tiny age gap barely mentioned (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad happens at the pizzeria

quick note, as mentioned this is an AU, but mikes trauma is still there from garrett’s kidnapping but i won’t go down the wormhole of lore for this bc that’s not necessarily why i’m writing this

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The cool breeze of a spring afternoon could be felt as you made your way to the Schmidt’s house. It was a Saturday and technically you weren’t supposed to be at their house today.

Abby was found knocking on your front door just a few minutes earlier, asking if you could come over and play outside with her. You had a good feeling she’d been asking Mike all day, but he refused to call you and ask himself because you’d “probably be busy with school work.” So, the young girl took it upon herself to ask.

“Mike got me a huge box of sidewalk chalk we can draw with.” Abby told you as you walked to the house together. “I also have a bicycle, we can go on a bike ride together! Well, not you, you’re too big for my bike. But you can walk.”

You smiled at yourself, hearing the girl talk and talk about all of the things she was excited to do with you.

“Abby, what’d I say about going to y/n’s house?” you could hear Mike say when you reached the outside of their garage. He looked like he was cleaning some shelves full of random tools.

“She said she wasn’t busy!” Abby said, defending herself.

“It’s okay, I didn’t have much homework this weekend. Anything for my favorite neighbor.” you said in the midst of doing the handshake you and Abby made up one time while you were babysitting after her.

“I thought I was your favorite?” Mike said, pretending to sound offended.

“My second favorite. Get it right.” you said with a small smirk.

Before you could continue conversing with him, Abby dragged you by the wrist with a box of chalk in her other arm.

The two of you combined ended up drawing enough pictures to fill up a majority of the driveway. Granted it wasn’t long, but you ended up making a masterpiece out of the broken up concrete.

“It looks like your room threw up on the driveway, Abby.” Mike said walking out of the garage to assess the damage that was done.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Abby said grinning.

“Yeah, when’s it going to rain again? Or I can just grab the hose and–”

“Be nice!” you said, playfully hitting his arm.

“I want to go on a bike ride now!” Abby said as she ran to pull her bike out of the corner of the garage. She had a habit of quickly moving on from one activity to the next with little room in between.

“I’ll go with her.” you said with a smile.

“I’ll come too.” Mike said, already closing the garage door behind him before you could object and say something like “You need a break, go rest.” Abby already made her way down the drive way, riding towards the sidewalk.

“It’s nice out today.” you said in an attempt to make small talk as you guys followed behind Abby. You guys haven’t spoken much since that night he returned home from his first night shift. You’ll never know what compelled you to give him that hug and what compelled him to give you one in return before you left.

“Yeah, I was finally able to get some stuff done outside today.”

“That’s good.” you were taking in the sounds of the birds chirping, some trees were finally blossoming again after the weather started warming up a bit. After a few seconds of comfortable silence you spoke up, “How’s the job been?”

“As good as a night shift job can be.”

“You getting much sleep lately?” His eyes still looked tired as the day you first saw them, if not more.

“When have I ever.” he paused for a moment, not sure if he was ready to enter this conversation with you. “Sleep has never come easy for me.”

“You can say that again.” you said with a small chuckle.

“Has your mom told you much about our situation?” he said at a slightly softer volume than earlier.

“Not really.”

He took a deep breath before he began talking. “When I was about 12 years old, I had a little brother. His name was Garret. He was taken and we never found him. I was there when it happened.” he stopped for a moment, you looked at him and saw the hurt in his face. “I still have nightmares, every night. I just wish there was something I could’ve done. Anything.”

“I’m so sorry Mike.” you said quietly, you were shocked. You never knew the reasons why this family had it so hard, it made you feel almost guilty that you didn’t take the time to know them earlier. Neither of them asked to be put in this situation.

“It’s okay. It’s just hard thinking back on it. I feel like it’s my fault. Parents told me I needed to watch him. I let this happen.” he was fidgeting with his thumbs, taking in a deep breath. “Anyways, mom died a little after Abby was born, dad died not long after. I had no other choice but to take custody of Abby and become her guardian.”

Everything made sense to you now. Mike had his hands full all of the time and not by choice. No wonder he was always working.

“Are you doing any better now?” you asked.

“The nightmares are still there. I don’t think they’ll ever go away, but I put on a brave face for Abby. She knows very little about Garret, kind of want to keep it that way.”

“I understand.” you said looking down at the pavement beneath your feet. “Thanks for telling me this by the way.”

“You were going to find out one way or another. Better talk about it now than later.” the two of you looked ahead and saw Abby stopped at a street corner.

“You guys are too slow!” she shouted.

“We’re coming!” you shouted back. “If it means anything to you, you’re doing a hell of a good job. She cares about you.” you smiled softly, looking over at him.

“I hope so. Doesn’t seem like it sometimes. She’s a pain in the ass when you’re not around.” he mumbled.

“Really?” you asked, genuinely surprised. “She talks about you like you’re her entire world when I babysit.” The two instantly remembered what the girl had said to Y/n that one night, Y/n not knowing Mike heard all about it the next day.

“You would be a good princess for Mike.”

“Give her some time, she’ll open up to you one day.” you said reassuringly.

The rest of the walk you guys talked about random things. You told him all about your college courses which he found incredibly interesting, although not understanding much about what they entailed. He told you about some of his craziest encounters when he was a mall security guard. The two of you laughed so hard over one of them you almost tripped over the uneven pavement, making you guys laugh even harder.

When you finally returned to his house it was beginning to get dark out. Abby somehow was not tired one bit, despite having ridden her bike for almost 45 minutes.

“I promised Abs I’d let her make s’mores tonight. You can join us.” he said putting his hands in his pockets. It was starting to get cooler out as the sun set. “If you want.” he added at the last second.

“Sure, why not.” you had enjoyed getting to know him better, you didn’t really want to go home yet anyways. “I’m just gonna run home real quick to grab a hoodie, it’s getting co-“

“You can just borrow one of mine.” he interrupted.

“You sure? It’s not that big of a deal I can just run inside real quick.” your heart racing at the thought of him letting you wear one of his hoodies. He’s just being nice you reassured yourself, nothing more.

“Y/n, it’s fine.” he said with a chuckle. “You can go through the gate on the side of the house, Abby’s probably already back there.”

He went through the front door as you walked to the back of the house, and sure enough Abby was already back there placing a handful of s’mores supplies on a little table on the back porch of the house.

“You’re staying for s’mores, Y/n?” Abby asked, excitement beginning to fill her.

“Yeah.” you said smiling. You saw a stack of camping chairs leaning against the house. “Wanna help me grab the chairs?”

The two of you grabbed the chairs, placing them around the campfire pit. You heard the door open and saw Mike stepping out holding hoodies for both you and Abby.

He handed you one, you gave him a tight lipped smile after thanking him. You slipped it over your head, it was just slightly oversized on you. It smelled just like he did the night you gave him the hug, you thought you’d never get over that scent. Your hands were tucked into the pocket of it as you took a seat on one of the chairs, waiting for Mike to finish starting the fire.

“Okay Abs please don’t burn every single marshmallow this time, I want Y/n to actually have an edible s’more.” Mike said looking over at his sister who was already putting far too many marshmallows on a long stick.

Mike sat on the chair next to you. The moment felt peaceful as Abby skipped over holding a stick with marshmallows, holding it over the fire. You watched as Abby toasted the marshmallows, trying her hardest not to turn them all to charcoal. The sun had finally set and the sky was clear, the stars becoming more visible. You noticed Mike was looking up at the sky.

“Have you ever seen a shooting star before?” you asked, both of you now looking up.

“No, have you?” Mike replied.

“A few. When I was a kid, I used to sit out back and just watch the sky until I’d see one. I ended up being able to see a few because of the insane amount of time I’d be out there.” you were still looking up.

Mike turned his attention from the sky to you, watching how your lips formed the smallest of smiles as you spoke. He watched the way your eyes lit up from talking about something so important to you. He felt himself begin to smile, too.

You kept talking, not realizing that he wasn’t looking up at the sky anymore. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, not when your face lit up with joy from just talking about something as simple as the stars. The way it seemed like your hair fell just perfectly and his hoodie seemed to fit you just right didn’t help the situation either.

You finally turned your head back to him realizing he had been looking at you the whole time, a small smile still on his face.

“What?” you said with a nervous laugh.

“Nothing.” he said with a smile, shaking his head slightly as he turned his attention back to the sky.

“Here’s your s’more, Y/n!” Abby said as she suddenly popped up next to you. You almost forgot she was even with you guys anymore, her focus was entirely on making the most yummy s’mores. That left little time for her to ask you all of her usual questions.

“Thanks Abby.” you said, smiling at her as she handed you a messy s’more. She ran back to grab another one, handing it to Mike.

“Thanks Abs.” he said, giving his sister a side hug before she could run away again to grab her own s’more.

The three of you spent the rest of the night snaking on many more s’mores and talking more about the stars until Abby fell asleep in her small camping chair. The fire was dimming, barely alive anymore. You and Mike continued watching the sky, pointing out constellations and attempting to see a shooting star with no luck.

“I should probably take Abby to bed.” Mike said as he stood up, making his way towards Abby. He picked up his little sister as gently as possible making sure not to wake her.

“Yeah I should probably head home now.” you said also standing up. You grabbed the chairs you all used to put them back where you found them.

“Thanks, Y/n. You didn’t have to.” he said as he made his way to the back door.

“No problem. The least I could do after those s’mores Abby made.” you smiled.

You followed him into the house as he walked towards the front door, Abby still peacefully asleep in his arms. He slowly opened the front door for you.

“See you Monday?” he asked.

“Yup.” you replied, and before you knew it he pulled you into a side hug. His two favorite people were in his arms now and he didn’t want it any other way.

“Have a good night, Y/n.”

“You too, Mike.” as you pulled away from his embrace, you put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. You gave the two a small smile which he returned as you walked out of the door.

And you bet he stood there until you were across the street, just like he did every other time you left their house.

When you returned home to your bedroom, which was still decorated like it was when you were 13, you felt warm inside. A different type of warm inside, the feeling you have when you care about someone so much and they care just as much back. All you wanted to do was make sure he knew you cared for him and Abby so much.

You looked at your bulletin board next to your door that had a photo of you and Abby from one of the first times you babysat her. She begged you to bring your polaroid camera and she took advantage of it, snapping all sorts of photos of you and her.

It wasn’t until you saw the photo that you realized you were still wearing Mikes hoodie he lent you. You looked in the mirror next to your door, admiring the hoodie. It wasn’t anything special, just a plain black hoodie, but it felt special. You were determined to continue changing their lives. Making sure their days were brighter, months filled with more happy days than sad ones.

You crawled into bed, too tired to take off the hoodie. You took in the smell of it one last time before you drifted off to sleep thinking about the memories you made today, hoping you’d never forget them.

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jules jewels (tag list! lmk if u want to be added or removed 🤗)

@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @prongsprincessworld @k3nnlolz @mxrvelouss

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #abby schmidt #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy’s movie #fnaf fic #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you

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livums · 4 months

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Why I haven’t written in several months

Im being dramatic—it’s been like 3.

Hello writeblr buds, I miss u and I hope the past few months have been as kind and restful as possible 🥰 I realized it’s been some time since I’ve written anything (or written anything about writing anything) and for some reason it’s of some importance to me that it doesn’t look like I vanished or lost interest/commitment to the space.

I’m trying to quit my fuck ass job :/

I have a whole lot of feelings about the job + the field itself and why I think my time in it is drawing to a close, but I probably won’t take the time to write about it here, unprompted. What’s much more exciting for me is, I think, my goal itself.

I realized in like November that I’m doing that thing again—waiting for my life to start. It started when I received an art book Kickstarter reward in the mail and held a very pretty holographic print in my hands up to the light in my bedroom. My bedroom walls were bare, and had been for the past year and some change, when I moved into this unit. I hadn’t felt comfortable decorating knowing I’d be moving out in “only two years”. I caught myself waiting for permanent stability again. Oops! My bad.

I spent hours decorating my walls with all the prints I’d accumulated over the past several years and I felt…. A way. I started using stickers in my journal.

What was I waiting for? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I’ve known I wanted to center art and creativity in my life for as long as I can remember. I’m not going to blame my parents or whatever, but I was told over and over again not to throw myself into pursuing art as a career. It’s not financially viable. “You’ll never make a red cent.” I’d never told them at all that I wanted to do art for a living. I convinced myself for a long time that I didn’t. Lol.

Before I graduated from college in 2020, I faced a decision. I could go to art school, I thought. I could get an MFA. I held an art school catalog in my hand that is requested in the mail. I’d carried it everywhere for months.

I went to grad school instead. Not that I’m bitching about getting into such a prestigious program in my field, but it always felt like the ultimate compromise. It’s something I could tell my parents about and have them be proud of me, while hopefully I could devote time to art on the side. It’s what I’d been doing for the past four years—compromising. I had a professor or three notice, even. Lol.

I moved to a new city in 2020, alone. I was turbo depressed. One day, I spent hours watching animated student films on youtube and bawling my eyes out. Before I had graduated from college, I’d faced a decision and chosen wrong. I asked myself over and over—What do you do if you chose wrong?

Grad school was a nightmare, and I’d rather die than go back, but I don’t even necessarily regret going, I think. I think it was important for me to be in this profession, at least for a time. Maybe this is just me coping, lol, but going to grad school inspired much of what I ventured to write in 2022 and 2023.

Anyways, when I recently held that holographic print up to my bare landlord-white walls, I realized that if I waited any longer to let myself live my life how I wanted, then I was an idiot. In kinder words. I have no excuse not to. I’m giving myself massive grace by believing truly that the past seven years were not a waste of time, but I can’t lie to myself that I’m satisfied with the way my life is right now.

The point is-- I’ve slowed down writing recently because my focus has shifted to art. I’m DEFINITELY not done writing. Not at all! I just realized that if I want to achieve my goal of making enough consistent money off of art to leave my job, I’ll have to start treating art like a second job. Between devoting time to my fuck ass job, to art as a living, and to writing seriously, I’m in kind of a pick-any-two situation. Before, it was fuck ass job and writing seriously. I want to eventually be focused on art and writing as the pillars of my livelihood—that’s my ultimate dream. And we all know that writing is the longest game of creative and financial delayed gratification ever, lol.

I haven’t really talked about this that much on my other socials, lol, but for whatever reason I woke up this morning and felt like I wanted to give an explanation for my sparse writeblr presence. As I hopefully get to scale back to part-time clinician in the future, I hope to get back into some of my stories and start re-breaking old bones into something new and revitalized.

AN EE WAYS, if you’ve read all that, thank you. Mutuals, if u want my discord, feel free to pm me! I’m not disappearing (I will be on tumblr just as much as I have been, which is to say, daily), but I’m much easier to reach by other means. I’ll be (and have been) posting much more on my art blog @lurrkingly as well! If you’d like to um. Witness Me, I’m most Witnessable there or on my art Twitter (also @lurrkingly). (I also have a spicy art Twitter linked to the main one, which I hope to probably be. Siphoning off of for income one day soon. Praying etc.)

I have a game plan, my partner is an excellent support (I think they like playing manager, LOL), and I think, I really think, that I can do it! 🥰🥰🥰

Ok bye MWAH! I like you guys and I’ll never leave! 🎉 💜

#writeblr #chitchat #heyyyyyyy lol

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awkwardpasta004 · 24 days

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I wanna talk about this somewhere but I’m so into working on my book series again. Months of meltdowns and depression ending with me loosing a job has just sparked the need to work on it again. I’m so determined to get the pre writing shit done so I can start writing.

I’m currently trying to compile all the world building info into one page per country instead of the massive folders I have rn so I can better see what I’m missing. At this point, one country has been thought out a good bit but the other 3 need the same treatment.

Also I’ve already drawn one of the MC and the secondary characters from the one country, let’s call this country T even though I have posted this stuff online so it won’t be hard to find. Man I’m bad at keeping things secret but I want people to know my countries and characters! Anyway, I still need to draw the others.

Oh oh! So before I was trying too hard to be the YA version of Game of Thrones even though I haven’t even read it and only know a general gust of the story. I’m also only taking 1 minor inspiration from that but I was so against having mythical races and magic in my world when that’s what I love about fantasy. It’s there now! The magic is back and it makes the story so much more interesting and brings more challenges and ahhhhhh so excited!

Reading The Hobbit helped and I’ve started Fellowship. I’m in between 3-4 books. Goodness I need to chill. But now my story has gone from Harry Potter inspired (that’s from so so soooo long ago) to inspired by Avater the Last Air Bender, Tolkien, a tiny pinch of Game of Thrones, and dnd.

For those who don’t know, I’ve been working on a YA fantasy series on and off since 2017. I’ve been stuck on the overall plot and world building for a while. Ik the plot but it’s kinda blurry and I’ve been trying to clear the fog. And the world building….I just really like world building but! I swear it’s important! The cultures and history of the countries are important to the story and are a big part of the characters since all of them (the main cast) are each from a different country. And now I’ve made up new races which yes I do plan on creating them into homebrews.

Speaking of how cool would it be that after I (hopefully) get my series published that I make an rpg guide for my world?!

Ok that’s all. I’ve always wanted to blog about my writing but Ive always tended to take such long breaks but I’m hoping that won’t happen this time now that monsters and magic is back in my world *knocks on wood*

#books #books and reading #writers on tumblr #writing #aspiring author #aspiring writer #fantasy #dnd #dungeons and dragons #tolkien #the hobbit #fantasy horror #book writing #book series #fantasy series

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big-coyote · 4 months

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hi!! this may be a weird thing to ask about but ive decided to make one of my longtime ocs a coyote therian (they were connected to coyotes since the beginning) and i wanted to ask if theres stuff i should avoid when talking abt them or doing character design?

ive done some research on my own looking thru tumblr blogs ran by therians mostly, but i mightve missed some stuff!

for now they show their theriantophy as either wearing a coyote looking onesie (which is the first outfit they ever had) or when wearing other clothes they have a tail keychain on their trousers, so i also wanted to ask if you know of any other things they could have to connect with their theriotype?

again im sorry if this is a weird question! <3

(1/2) Hello! Not a weird question at all, I’m actually very honored and happy you’ve asked! I have quite a number of OCs myself that are also therians or otherkin adjacent lol. Also if anyone else has any ideas they’d like to add/advice feel free to comment or reblog!

As for things you should ovoid I’d recommend straying away from the idea of therianthropy being inherently because of mental illness. While it’s totally okay for your Oc to struggle with mental health problems or other serious topics. I often see the stigma online where people assume being nonhuman or having a alterhuman identity means the person in question must have Schizophrenia, Dissociative Identity Disorder, psychosis, a delusional disorder, etc. And again while I know plenty of nonhumans who have those disorders (I have some of them) and that may effect their identities as a whole, it shouldn’t be the end all be all of their identity you know? Ovoid adding more stigma to both.

Another thing I’d stray away from is the idea of a character being a therian because of spirit animals or any mythology related to closed practices/groups. I’ve seen many indigenous people online speak about their discomfort with the word ‘spirit animal’ and how it’s been adopted into pop culture. Being alterhuman is much more then “I feel connected to this thing/this thing is just like me”, it runs much deeper then that and it is as much as a real identity as something like gender, sexuality, religion, etc. It should be taken with as much care and seriousness as those other identities because it is huge and important part to a lot of our lives.

Lastly I’d recommend avoiding making the character the butt end of the jokes. While the Oc themselves can be funny, have funny things happen to them or have funny experiences as a coyote Therian I’d ovoid making them the punching bag to other OCs. Online it’s not uncommon to see many people misunderstanding and mischaracterizing being nonhuman for a quick laugh. It be very disheartening if an OCs entire existence in a story is just “haha they think they’re a dog, that’s stupid”. Again it’s important to take any identity like being a Therian seriously instead of just being the punch line for a joke or gag.

As for the clothing I think the onesie would be incredibly cute and good to wear as well as the tail! Many therians wear tails, both real and faux fur ones, to feel connected to their identity and feel more comfortable. I’ve also known many therians who were things like jewelry with their theriotype on it, fake animal ears, t-shirts, rings, fur coats, earrings, pins/buttons, etc. Some also like collecting plushies or posters with their theriotype as well, or having stickers on their books or drawing them. Or if you’d prefer a more casual character design you could have a character who doesn’t wear any outward Therian gear and prefers to keep it low key. Both options are very valid and would be interesting to see!

But no matter what I’m sure your Oc is going to be amazing and I can’t wait to see them! Please tag me if you make any art or stories about them, or if you have any other questions feel free to ask again or DM me!

#otherkin #alterhuman #wolf therian #otherhearted #otherkith #therian community #therian help #coyote therian #nonhuman #wolfkin #avian therian #therianthrope #therianthropy #alterhuman community #nonhumen

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woso-fan13 · 2 years

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Even If You’re Little, You Can Do A Lot

“Oh yeah, I can do a pretty killer British accent,” you say, easily switching over mid-sentence.

What was supposed to have been a movie night had turned into the team sharing random facts with each other.

A look of shock spread through the room, Ash finally breaking the silence, “why are you actually good at that?”

You cocked your head slightly in confusion, “I literally had to be? What are you talking about?”

The confusion spread to the others, Kelley asking, “you had to be able to do a convincing British accent? Were you forced to?”

“Well, no, but it would be odd if I didn’t. I couldn’t be the only one without an accent, it would ruin everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Kelley had grown frustrated at this point, the vague questions and answers leading to more confusion.

“I needed it for the show”

Several “what shows?” were shouted back.

“Matilda. Y’all didn’t know they faked British accents? I hate to ruin the magic, but we didn’t really have the budget to ship all the cast in from England.”

Emily snorted, “what kind of fancy private school did you go to? My school did that stupid Dr. Seuss musical every year.”

“No, I didn’t even go to primary scho- did I not tell you guys? I was on Broadway for years as a kid, I just had a tutor backstage,” it wasn’t something you were embarrassed to share, it was just something that didn’t come up in conversation.

A collective “what?!?” roared through the group.

Alex took control of the group, shutting them all up. Pointing at you, she simply says, “you, explain, now.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll start from Matilda, it was probably my biggest. I was 6 when I was cast, 7 when I started. I was there for a little over 3 years, but I eventually got a bit tired of it and it was really hard work. I was in Annie briefly before that, only about a year. I don’t remember that too well, I was really young. The only thing I really remember is that I wasn’t old enough to be Annie, I had to be the little kid. Molly, I think. I was 5 then, I was working on my 6th birthday.”

“Annie was my first show, I did mainly commercials and things like that before. And- you can never tell a living soul- but I did beauty pageants when I was a toddler. I actually won a lot of awards.”

“And what else have I done? After Matilda I was in Les Mis for awhile, that one was really cool. It was a huge change from what I was doing previously, but everyone was awesome there. Obviously, I’ve done the classic Tiny Tim role around Christmas. All the practice on the crutches helped playing soccer though. I think that’s it for musicals, but I might be missing something.”

“I was in a couple movies and shows too, but I loved performing on a stage more. It’s like when you’re out on the pitch: everyone’s eyes are on you, waiting for you to mess up. And the whole group is out there together, but if you mess it up, you mess it up for everyone. I’ve thrived with pressure, ever since I was young.”

Silence fills the room, everyone processing what you had said. They knew from karaoke on the bus and hearing you sing in the shower that you were good, but they didn’t know you were that good. And seeing you laugh and tumble over your feet while trying to walk backwards never indicated to them that you were an incredible dancer. They knew you grew up in New York City- they had seen pictures of a tiny you exposed to all the city had to offer- but they never realized how intense your childhood must have been.

“Wow, kid. I never realized that you had done all of this,” Kelley breathed, still trying to process everything, “why didn’t you say anything? We didn’t know we were working with a superstar.” At this, she wiggles her eyebrows at you, drawing a giggle.

“I never meant to keep it from you, I promise. I just don’t usually talk about it. It’s not something I can start a conversation with, and after I had known y’all for so long it would be weird to bring it up.”

The hours after this were filled with you regaling them with tales of your childhood: the parties you attended and the people that you met, the glamorous lifestyle everyone saw and the blood, sweat, and tears you put in behind the scenes. You soaked in the attention, you had learned to love being the center of it from a young age.

—-

A couple months later, you were fast asleep on your bed. Practice had been exhausting that morning, Vlatko running the midfielders through intense drills in the extreme heat. You didn’t know if you were going to cry or throw up after practice, but decided on taking a quick cold shower and falling into bed.

You had been sleeping peacefully for maybe 45 minutes when someone started banging on your door. You ignored it, assuming whoever it was would go away. After about 30 seconds of knocking, it stopped. You sighed, ready to fall asleep again, only to be met with the lock buzzing and the door opening. Of course they had the key, Mal was your roommate. She was usually great, except for when she was with the other youngsters. Then, it was like they shared one brain cell and it was lost somewhere in space.

“Psst, Y/N, wake up! Hey, Y/N/N, you really do have to wake up. It’s important, we need you,” the voice wasn’t leaving you alone.

You gave up on sleep, rolling over to see Mal, Sonny, Kelley, and Lindsey staring at you. You simply blink at them, waiting for an explanation. Sonnett jumps in:

“Have you been on TikTok recently? There’s this trend, people are lip synching to the Matilda soundtrack and doing the dance. And some people are pretending they were in the show too.”

Way too tired to follow her ramblings, you ask, “ok, so? What do you need from me?”

“You need to teach us the dance. The real dance, not the fake TikTok version. And we need to find the audio of you singing it, it must be somewhere on the internet. And you need to be in the video, obviously. But we need to learn it now.”

You knew you wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep, so you rolled out of bed and slipped on shoes. Standing at the door, you look back, “aren’t you coming? It’s time for Broadway Bootcamp.”

—-

An hour later, the rest of the team made it to the conference room to watch game footage. Instead they were met by you trying to teach hopeless dancers how to dance. You had embraced your role fully, yelling directions and pointing out flaws.

“Come on, you think this is hard? I was doing this when I was in Kindergarten. Try singing along with it, then we’ll see how out of breath you get.”

The team laughed as you slowly sang the song and did the movements, trying to get the others to follow along. You were barely halfway through the song, at this pace y’all would be up until midnight practicing. But you weren’t letting your Broadway reputation be ruined by a silly little TikTok. You weren’t going to let a little thing like little stop you.

not my best, I didn’t even proofread, but I just wanted to put something out. as always, critics welcome, but be nice about it.

#uswnt imagine #womens soccer #woso community #woso x reader #uswnt players #uswnt woso #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #reader insert

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splintergirl13 · 2 months

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OKAY! THAT’S IT! I CAVED! I DREW THEM! I’M NOT AFRAID TO ADMIT THESE GOT ME OUT MY ART BLOCK!

Also here’s another version with guys without their beards and Alex’s hair being straighter since I kinda forgot that she had curls while I was reading, and that Herobrine had a goatee apparently…and I also wanted to draw what Steve would look shaven :]

I blame you for making me love them SO FRIGGIN MUCH GAUUHH!

Also I’m literally so close to finishing the story that I’ve been purposefully taking TikTok breaks between reading like between 3-5 paragraphs/scenes, because I know for a FACT—that I’ll be DEVASTATED once I’m done.

I’m normal I swear

ABDVHSKSNSVBSJZJSBBSHSISKHS

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I've been looking at these beautiful drawings all day just like trying to figure out how to even conjure up words to say thank you! THESE ARE WONDERFUL!!! OMG THEY ARE LITERALLY SO DAMN CUTE I AM DYING AHHHHHH they are all so kissable I want to pinch their cheeks

Absolutely adore Herobrines hair and shredded shirt. This man needs a kiss on his forehead he is so scrunkly I love him. Give this man a bath! He will never earn one.

Steve is stunning so pretty those purple eyes love the shade you went with and love his little baby shaven face hehehehe I always joke that Alex would try to shave it as a prank at some point and while herobrine would join in on the antics he would miss the way it feels when anyways. Look at this man! So fill of hope and wide eyed! He is adorable and happy and ahhhhh I can see why Hero is obsessed with him

AND LOOK AT MY GIRL GO AHHHHHHH SHE IS EVERYTHING I adore her shirt pattern and I love both hair styles I think they look really good. I love both her and Steve's freckles It gives them so much life

Thank you again for the drawing and I'm glad it broke you our of your art block!

#sphnyspinspin #art submittal #fluff pining and stupidity #minecraft #mineblr #minecraft steve #minecraft alex #minecraft herobrine #man but seriously youre going to hate me for where the last chapter currently ends right now #no one tell them how it ends right now cause man its going to hurt lmao

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finerllines · 1 year

Text

christmas at mum's

a/n: hi everyone this is my contribution to @watchmegetobsessed fanficmas so go check out all of dory's fics. the prompt i chose is 'tradition? we have literally never done that.' this is also a little check in with charlie and harry from the love, charlie universe. i hope you guys enjoy, happy holidays!! <3

summary: it's charlie and harry's first christmas together as a couple and charlie has no clue how to behave

wc: 1.7k+

tw: none

///

Charlie’s been in this position before, so there is no reason to feel so on edge and out of place. She’s been to Anne’s a thousand times, including during the holidays, and yet, her brain is on overdrive trying to sense any eyes on her, and then distract herself to forget that people are looking at her. A good number of guests are familiar, being part of Anne’s usual Christmas party crowd, herself included, but there’s something about this year’s party that feels different.

A hand reaches from behind her and tips her chin back. Then, she gets a kiss on her forehead.

“Hi lover, are you okay? Why d’you look so tense, huh?”

Right. That’s why.

This is the first time she and Harry have been around his family as a couple. In fact, apart from his band and colleagues, they haven’t really made their new relationship known to anyone, choosing to spend most of their time together in private. For her sake and Rory’s.

She turns back to face Harry. Her boyfriend. Her partner. Her lover.

“I’m okay, just … don’t really know how to act. It’s my first time being around your family since we, you know.”

Harry smirks. “Since we started swapping spit.”

Rolling her eyes, Charlie replies dryly, “Yeah, since we started doing that.”

“Well, mum and Gem already know, and I’ve already told them to not say anything to you or to anyone, because I know you’ll get all flustered and embarrassed. So, as long as you can keep your hands to yourself, we’ll just about survive tonight.”

She rolls her eyes again.

He rounds the sofa to sit next to Charlie. Her draw to him is undeniable and she instinctively leans into him. He reaches for her hand and brings it up to his mouth to kiss it softly.

“You wanna tell me what is really bothering you?” he whispers by the side of her ear.

“Nothing. Just don’t know how to behave.”

“Try again. I know that’s not it.”

She would be frustrated that he can see right through her if he hasn’t been doing this for years. Instead, she just feels embarrassed about what she’s about to admit.

“My parents aren’t here,” she mumbles.

Neither of them move at her admittance. Charlie feels Harry’s body tense and she mentally smacks herself for mentioning it, for punching all the festive cheer out of Harry’s body. They had come last year without her, making some excuse to account for her rare absence, while Charlie spent her first Christmas alone. Well, not alone, with her daughter. It’s not that Christmas is particularly special to her and her family - Christmas isn’t really celebrated in their culture – but the one Christmas-y tradition they had was going to Anne’s to have a traditional English Christmas dinner. They had never missed one. Until Rory came along. Then all of that happened.

Just as she goes to apologise for dampening the festive cheer, he beats her to the punch. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid of me to have forgotten.” His grip around her hand tightens and he starts moving his thumb back and forth on her wrist hoping to soothe her. “But now you get to make holiday traditions with your new family, with Rory.” Then, in a smaller voice, he adds, “And me.”

The lump in Charlie’s throat seems impossible to swallow, so she just nods. She can’t believe it. Harry, her gem of a partner, is disappointed in himself for not remembering something very sad that happened in her life – something that she chooses to never mention – and is still so hesitant to insert himself into her life.

Peeking behind her again, she sees that Anne and her guests are all still enthralled by Rory, who is happily making funny faces to her audience of adults. Quickly, she tilts her head up to steal a kiss, pulling away before he has time to respond, hoping to communicate her gratitude without words.

“Hey,” Harry whines softly then connects their lips again. For longer this time, allowing him to slowly savour her taste. A hand on his chest gently pushing him back causes him to pull away. “What, you embarrassed of me?” he jokes. But Charlie isn’t looking at him. Instead, she’s looking back at everyone else to make sure they’re still preoccupied.

“I don’t know about your family, but in mine, we don’t even have prolonged eye contact with our significant others. You may be okay singing about your kinks in front of the world, but I will not be caught showing physical affection in front of your mum.”

The seriousness of her scolding makes him chuckle.

“You’re adorable.” Harry pinches Charlie’s chin, provoking her to try and nip at his fingers. They settle back against each other with matching faint smiles on their lips. His arm is thrown over shoulders, his thumb gently stroking her cheek in a comfortable rhythm. “If it’s worth anything, I’m happy you’re here, as my lover, and I’m happy that Rory is here, and we three get to spend the holidays together. It’s tradition.”

“Tradition?” She turns to face him. “We’ve literally never done that. Rory only just existed last year.”

“Traditions have to start somewhere and this one is starting here on,” he checks his watch, “6.48pm, 25 December 2022.”

“Hmm. I guess I’ll see you this time next year, lover.”

Harry’s teeth clamp down tightly on his lower lip to try to contain the beam that wants to blossom across his face. Next year. She didn’t even flinch. Her voice didn’t waver.

They get called to the dining table to get ready for dinner before he gets a chance to slip too deep into his domestic daydream.

The last time Charlie was in Harry’s bed was when she was sixteen. It was the night before Harry’s audition and he had texted her in a panic, begging her to sneak over to help him fall asleep. She had nibbled through the skin of her bottom lip on the journey over, nervous at the prospect of sharing a bed with a boy, something she hadn’t done since Harry started having crushes on other girls. But all her reservations flew out the window the moment she saw her best friend’s red nose and teary eyes. Without saying anything other than an initial greeting, she crawled into bed next to Harry and let him rest his head on her shoulder and hug her arm to his chest as he fell asleep. He fell asleep almost instantly. But she was wide awake the whole night, eyes glued to the ceiling, brain running a thousand miles an hour as it tried to work out why her heart was racing the way it was.

This time, Charlie’s mind is racing but for a completely different reason.

“Stop looking at the door,” Harry whispers in the dark, “it’s locked. And mum’s not going to try and peep.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Come closer to me and try and fall asleep. Santa’s not going to come unless you fall asleep.”

“You are so annoying. I hate you.”

Her hand feels for him under the duvet then shuffles over until her legs can tangle with his. Unsatisfied, Harry rolls over and wraps his arms around her body, completely covering her, tucking his head into the crook of her neck, letting the tip of his nose graze her soft skin.

His warm breath tickles her when he whispers. “Are you going to be this nervous every time we stay over at mum’s?”

“I told you, I don’t know how to behave around your family now. When Anne let me stay over as kids, she trusted that you and I wouldn’t do anything … inappropriate. And now –“

“- oh we’re going to do something inappropriate?” he jokingly interrupts. “If we are, we should probably go to the living room because Rory is right there.”

That earns his hair a firm tug.

“Stop making fun of me. It’s Christmas, you are supposed to be nice.”

“I’m sorry. You’re cute. Okay, we won’t stay over next year. You can be as inappropriate as you’d like in your own bed.”

She tugs his hair again.

“Don’t worry, okay. Mum is definitely already asleep and she definitely knows that we are sharing a bed.”

Running out of retorts, they lay together in silence, bodies melting into each other under the heavy duvet. Charlie feels his breathing slow to a steady pace, but her mind is still buzzing with thoughts.

“H? Are you awake?”

“Hmm.”

“What if …” she trails off, fingers now scratching Harry’s scalp. “Were you serious when you said we’d spend Christmas together every year?”

“Mmhm.”

“What if you can’t make it back for Christmas. What if you’ve got to do Christmas shows?”

His reply is immediate and confident. “I won’t do them. Or I’ll fly you guys to wherever I have to be.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah. That’ll be okay?” Harry props himself up onto his forearms to look his beloved in the eyes.

Under his attentive gaze, Charlie’s face grows hot. “Yeah. I’d like that. And I think Rory would like that too. She’s grown attached to you. Sometimes she’ll grab my phone and tap her little fist on the screen. I think that’s her way of asking for you.”

“Fuck. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all year.” He drops his head in glee, resting his forehead against her shoulder. “I’m away from her too much. Is it okay that I feel like that?”

“It is okay, more than okay. I know it’s been less than a year and I said we’d move slow, but it makes so much sense to me. When I think about Rory’s first day of school or her moving her to a big girl bed, I think about sharing those moments with you. Does that scare you?”

“No, I want it.”

They find themselves wearing matching expressions again. All moony eyed and smiley.

Tired of just marveling at his beautiful face, Charlie slots her lips between his to kiss him soft and slow. “Merry Christmas, lover,” she whispers softly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Harry leans down to press his nose against hers. “Merry Christmas. I can’t wait to make new traditions with the both of you, lover.”

#fanficmas2022 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot

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rumiracle-whip · 1 year

Note

hiii :3 10 or 41 with revenant perhaps?

41. Because the world was saved

The night was quiet, the night was calm. A light breeze rustled through the leaves of the maple trees that lined the highway and kissed Ashe’s face as they leaned against the railing separating them from the river and the green bluffs that stretched on and on towards the horizon. Every once in a while, a car would drive past, headlights reflecting in the pavement still wet from the rainstorm that had only just ended. They couldn’t see the old, battered RV that was parked in the lookout. They didn’t notice the teenager lingering outside, despite how late it was. Ashe loved this time of night, serene, lonely, but in the best way. Most of all, it was a time where everything could at last stand still.

A crow landed on the metal railing and tilted its head curiously at them. Ashe had always envied birds, and their boundless freedom.

Now Ashe was free too.

It had been three days since the Trickster had been defeated, and while the rest of the world was busy rebuilding. The Prime Defenders were heading home. Driving the longest route they could think of back to Rockfall. They needed time to think, and to reconnect.

Behind them, Ashe heard the door to the Winnebago close, and a pair of footsteps draw near. They looked over their shoulder to meet the newcomer.

“Couldn’t sleep?” William asked, walking up beside them.

“Nah.” Ashe replied. “I’ve just had too much to think about, you know how it is.” They leaned their head against William’s shoulder, soaking in his warmth. He was warm now.

Ashe would save the endless questions they had of what their friends had been up to for another day, for now they were just glad to be back.

“You know, I- we really missed you.” He said. He was smiling, but it was one of those smiles you put on like a Band-Aid on an open wound. “Ten months when we didn’t know what happened to you, if you were even alive under there. It got worse when you- when I couldn’t save Archangel. I didn’t want to think that I would lose you forever, I couldn’t lose you forever.”

“You didn’t” Ashe said softly, reaching up to brush a stray curl back in place behind William’s ear. “Lose me, I mean. I’m here now, all because of you.”

“Yeah but-” William’s gaze shied away from the horns that now jutted out of their head, the wings that stuck out at awkward angles, new limbs that Ashe didn’t quite know what to do with yet. “If it weren’t for us none of this would have happened in the first place.” He ran his thumb over the back of their hand, lost in thought.

“I would have done it again, if I got the choice. If it meant saving you I would have let the Trickster take me over and over again.”

William paused and gripped their hand a little tighter. He looked up at them, something in his eyes almost looked wounded. Ashe realized what they had just said, and that it was exactly what they had said months ago. They would let the world burn before they let their friends die. But the Trickster hurt more than just the world. William wasn’t kidding when he said the last few months had broken him, he looked awful. They almost wanted to take it back, say that they would never hurt him like that again. But it wouldn’t have been true.

“And I would have saved you every time.” He nearly whispered.

Ashe’s breath caught in their throat. Something about the way he said that… It felt less like just an inevitably, it felt like an expression of devotion, like a confession.

They heard the pounding of their own heart and to the beat of it recited words they had mulled over for months now.

“I should have told you I loved you ages ago.” They said. It was a truth they came to realize while trapped in the darkest recesses of their own mind and that they weren’t brave enough to say when they were pulled out of the shadows and saw William again for just a moment. And now they were finally saying it, and the few moments where the confession hung in the air between them were far more terrifying than they expected.

“Yeah.” William said after a second that seemed to drag on for a million years. “Me too.”

And then he leaned in and kissed them.

People always describe this feeling as being like flying, but Ashe had flown before, and this was better.

When they broke apart they felt like a weight had been lifted off their chest, like the chain that had been wrapped around their ankle since the day the Trickster first was summoned had finally broken off. It was exhilarating and terrifying and made them feel a little dizzy but it was wonderful.

They buried their face in the fabric of William’s hoodie as he carded his fingers through their hair, and for the first time in a long time, Ashe Winter’s felt at home.

#i had to rewrite this entire thing you better like it #one day i will stop comparing ashe to corvids but that is not today #jrwi #jrwi prime defenders #william wisp #ashe winters #revenant jrwi #jrwi fanfiction #prime defenders fanfic #scrubby scribes

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mostspecialgirl · 4 months

Text

the flg redesigns could not be going better

meaningless oc rambling and doodles below the cut

recently i’ve found myself slowly latching back onto flg with the thread of hastur sr. and achelo becoming planeswalkers after the main story. i’ve always planned on achelo working under dana in hundred nights, but with the more recent recontextualization of the kailash clan (in regards to the connection of the ancients to nyarlathotep) it’s only right that hastur sr. joins him. as such, now i’m kind of just thinking about everyone again.

since nobody really got to watch or read FLG while Rough Copy and its adaptation were floating around on the net, i can really overwrite whatever i want. chaos galaron, my sweet (deceased) baby is no longer titled Cosmic Devil, but i’ve chosen to have him be “Spacecreep” because if he’s a vintage supervillain, he deserves a name befitting of such. i think his new design was a swing and a home run. i’ve kept what was important about his original design while drawing him closer to nepenth’s (his nephew) redesign. it’s the perfect middle, and is better than the old one by leagues. so good i’m reconsidering killing him off, but that would completely undermine nepenth’s awesome character arc.

i’m thinking of having nepenth initially inheriting the name of spacecreep (like in the original story) but inevitably becoming 'cosmic devil' when he grows into his own.

but speaking of names, i think the name of “TBA” the actual fucking main antagonist of the story, the one i’ve labored over and thought about for literal years of my life, the one who this whole time had simply been named “To Be Announced”….. i think i’m going to give him the hero name of Mankind. it fits for everything his character is! so that is what it shall be! adding the blue to his outfit was a genius move on my part because if you invert it…. you get hastur sr’s yellow

R.I.P THE RED CAPE OF JUSTICE 💔 you will not particularly be missed

mr. “wave king” reaper also got a minor redesign, though, most of his old design isn’t visible here. i think his new face structure suits him well, and helps him deviate from my multitude of skull faced OC’s. also present in this doodle is his salmon wife who has remained completely unchanged. here’s an extra doodle i dont have posted anywhere but here

i’d like to keep his bath robe, though

hastur sr’s redesigning is far from done though. my glorious king in yellow will surely have a multitude of designs to cycle through until he feels just right. not to mention the fact he needs 3 separate designs for “The Worlds Worst Villain”, “The Scholar In Yellow” and “My Shitty Deadbeat Dad They Put In A Big Ass Battery”. maybe even one more for sundown/post-main series. i’ll have a lot to puzzle out with that. i’m thinking about toning down his tentacle motif, and in turn, likely hastur jr’s as well. it’s such an important design to FLG and could change the whole series from here on out. it isn’t set in stone, though. i’ve always been a sucker for hastur jr weaving his tentacles together like muscle fibres to form giant arms and shit. so maybe i’ll let him keep them in some form, maybe in his given power.

he’ll have to keep the tentacle power in some form

bla bla bla i’m tired and there’s not much else i really much else i have to ramble about. i guess i’m glad i can draw achelo now instead of making him have a weird squid head. you’re free now. I’d like to draw him in some more casual clothes though so I can better visualize him as he is in hundred nights. i also have to figure out how i want to visually represent his Archive ability, but seeing as i’ve now read 10000 manhwa with some kind of System Ability, i doubt it’ll be very hard for me.

next time i’ll be sure to redesign nuclear winter. and probably a couple others too, i guess.

#mostspecialgirldoodletag #stupid oc rambling #relicverse #flg #bravadon reaper #chaos galaron #hastur sr #achelo #mankind #nepenth galaron #hastur jr #aegean lawrence vydel #sa’ara pyrophyte byblis #oc #oc design #ocs #original character #original characters #oc art

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theladyofdeath · 2 years

Text

The Viscount Who Loved Me {Fourteen}

TVWLM Masterlist

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction, inspired by the first 2 seasons of Bridgerton.

Written alongside @snelbz

**CHAPTER WARNING: NSFW.

Ships: Nesta x Cassian x Elain - Feyre x Rhysand - Elain x Azriel x Gwyn

Summary: (see TVWLM masterlist!)

A/N: Thank you for reading! We're almost 3/4ths of the way done posting this beast! We would love to hear what you think. x

Tag list is at the end. If you’d like to be added, please comment below or submit an ask. :)

Dear Readers,

Is it just me or has a certain Viscount been eyeing a certain Diamond? If only one could know what happens when the ton isn't watching.

The Suriel

Azriel was standing by the refreshments table as others danced around the floor, lost in their partners’ embraces. He had hardly moved in the hour since the ball began and if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure why he was still there.

Cassian and Elain had announced their proposal to the ton.

Azriel should be happy, should be thriving and joyous and celebrating on behalf of his brother, but he could not find it in himself to. The only other person that looked as pissed about the situation was Nesta, who stood against the wall since the announcement.

Cassian and Elain could not have looked more thrilled, however. They spun around together, her lost in his arms. Azriel watched, fretting and wishing he was in his rooms, drawing.

He had just had a glass of champagne when the last person he wanted to see approached him, but the moment she said his name, he was lost in her voice.

“His Grace does throw a lovely ball, Azriel.”

Azriel turned to find Elain staring up at him, eyes wide and glittering.

He smiled, although he feared it wasn’t very convincing. “Indeed. He can complain all he’d like to, but he does have a knack for them.” Leaning closer, he lowered his voice as he said, “Don’t let him fool you though. This is all the work of his housekeeper, he just paid for it all. Miryam is the real mastermind.”

As he winked, Elain’s hand came up to cover her mouth as she laughed. “Well, I guess I can keep his secret.”

Her engagement ring shone in the light of the crystal chandeliers, seeming to glare at Azriel from where it sat on her finger.

Clearing his throat, he gave her another forced smile. “Are you enjoying your time here?”

Elain beamed as she turned around to the room. “I am, Lord Lunasa’s home is certainly beautiful, but it’s the gardens I can’t get enough of.” She faced him again, those brown eyes soft and at ease.

Azriel liked that she felt that way around him.

“I’ll have to admit that they haven’t gained my attention like they have yours, and I’ve been coming here almost my entire life,” he admitted, sipping from his champagne.

“Feyre and I discovered them while you all were on your hunt this morning,” she said, and then her eyes brightened. “Didn’t I tell you Nesta was a good shot?”

“Yes, you did, I just wish I could’ve seen it myself.” His eyes settled on the woman herself across the room. “Largest buck I’ve seen this year and she took it down with a single shot.”

He should start praying to the Cauldron on Cassian’s behalf ahead of time, for whenever he inevitably does something that pisses the eldest Archeron sister off.

“Nesta is very talented,” Elain said, full of pride.

His eyes were on her as she said, “As are you.”

“No.” She waved him off. “Feyre can paint, Nesta can hunt and dance spectacularly. All I can do is garden.”

“It takes a special person to grow something from nothing,” Azriel said, quietly, and something flashed in Elain’s eyes that disappeared as quickly as it had come. The flash of it had his heart tightening and her cheeks reddening.

“Thank you,” she said. “You are always so very kind to me.”

“You deserve that kindness,” he promised. That look in her eyes returned. “Would you like to go for a walk through the gardens?”

Elains smile faltered. “I— now?”

Azriel nodded, making a slight gesture to those around them. “Surely we would not be missed for twenty minutes.”

Elain hesitated. The look in her eyes that he’d liked so much had vanished and now she would not meet his gaze. “Apologizes, my lord, but I must decline.”

The formality of her words had his body tending. “Pardon?”

She met his gaze and there was nothing there. Nothing but something that resembled regret. “I fear it would be inappropriate. It is late and we would be alone.”

He wanted to tell her of all the times they had been alone before but no words came to him. Had he overstepped? Perhaps he had, but when she approached, their conversation had been light, welcoming, comfortable.

Now, it was everything but.

“I was not trying to be inappropriate,” Azriel said, voice low, unsure of what else to say.

“Of course not,” she promised. “But…I am to be married.”

Those words…

She said them as if they explained everything and perhaps they did.

She would soon be married to Cassian, she was another man’s betrothed. Not his. She never would be his.

“I apologize,” he said, and the words hardly came out.

Her gaze found his for no more than a second, before finding her skirts dreadfully interesting. Nodding, as if that was acceptance enough, Elain played with the ring on her finger.

Cassian’s ring.

Taking a step back, Elain curtsied. “Excuse me, Lord Draeven, I should find my sisters.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. It had been weeks since she’d used his formal title, had been calling him Azriel since before their visit to Cassian’s country home. “Elain…”

“Good evening, Lord Draeven.”

Her steps were hurried as she crossed in front of him, heading down the long hallway that led to the wing of rooms the Archeron’s were sleeping in.

Swallowing, Azriel watched her go, not sure of exactly what had taken place to upset her as badly as he had. He wanted to follow her, to apologize again, but he thought better of it, downing the rest of the champagne in his hand in one long swill.

Deciding that he was done with the party, he took his leave without saying a word to Rhys or Cassian, not able to locate any of them in the spacious ballroom. If they needed him they knew where to find him.

As soon as he entered his rooms, he regretted it. Should’ve stayed at the ball and gotten drunk on Rhysand’s champagne, rather than come up here and wallow.

Propped against one of the walls was the painting he’d done of Elain. He had debated on giving it to her while they were here, had been mulling over his conversation with Gwyn.

Now, he knew what a mistake it would have been.

Now, the painting alone brought a pang to his chest.

It was time to accept what he could not control.

Elain would be marrying Cassian. She was not his. She never was and she never would be. It was not his place to ask for walks, was not his place to have meaningful conversation. It was not his place to act as if he cared, even though he truly did.

Azriel took the painting of Elain and placed it in his portfolio, out of sight.

Then he laid down and cursed himself for caring in the first place.

Yet, as he closed his eyes, her face was the first thing he saw.

Whether she spoke to him or not, he was already damned.

It was simply too late.

<.>

Feyre wondered what Rhysand was thinking as they spun around the dance floor. Without the Prince present, she didn’t feel obligated to dance with anyone else. No, she had danced with Rhysand thrice and although others had asked, she had stated that her card was full, even though it was not.

They had just finished the waltz when they stopped for a drink.

“I am exhausted,” Feyre stated, wiping the dampness from her forehead. “I feel as if we’ve been dancing for years.”

“Take a break,” Rhysand replied, eyes soft as they roamed her. “If you’d like, we can take a walk, get out of the stuffiness of the ballroom.”

“Do you not have duties as a host?” Feyre asked. “Surely they will know you are absent.”

“I assure you that ten minutes will not alarm anyone,” he promised.

Taking a moment to look around the room, she found Elain and Cassian speaking with a lord who was known to have connections in the wine business. They were likely discussing refreshments for the wedding.

It was still hard to believe, that her sister was going to be a Baroness. She’d had no doubt that Elain would accept Lord Cassian’s proposal, she would be a fool not to, but Elain had always believed in true love. Even when they were little girls, playing house with their dolls, Elain wistfully dreamed of the day the love of her life would sweep her off her feet and make her his wife. Looking at them across the room, Feyre knew Elain could come to love her new husband, but she knew as of right now, there was no love between them.

It made her profoundly sad for a reason she couldn’t place.

“Feyre?”

The brush of Rhysand’s fingers against the inside of her arm caught her attention again and she turned back to Rhysand. “I think a walk would be lovely, your Grace.”

Narrowing his eyes at the use of his formal title, he caught her smirk as she took his arm and he led her out of the ballroom. Rather than taking a left and heading out into the gardens as Feyre had expected, Rhys turned right, taking them deeper into the manor house.

“Where are we going?” She asked, disappointment making her voice softer than she’d meant it to be. When he’d asked her for a walk, she had hoped it meant they would end up in the gardens again. She’d hoped it meant he was going to kiss her again. Those kisses he gave her when no one was looking, to the back of her neck, the shell of her ear, the inside of her wrist, kept her up last night, the even breathing of her sisters in the same room the only reason she hadn’t sought him out.

The arm in hers tightened as a smile bloomed on his handsome face. “There’s an open air conservatory on the roof. Fresh air and privacy from the leering eyes of the ton.”

A rush of nervous excitement filled her bones. To be alone with Rhysand again…

It was all she could think about.

She longed for another taste of him, another moment of drowning in pure bliss.

“And why would we need privacy, my lord?” She asked, and he chuckled. He loved how she took his title and used it to tease him.

“I assure you, I only have the truest intentions,” Rhysand said, leading her to the back staircase. “I will be a perfect gentleman.”

Feyre met his gaze and raised a brow. “Must you?”

Rhysand stopped and slowly turned to face her. His dark eyes were lit with amusement and desire. “And what are your intentions, Feyre darling?”

“Education.”

She started up the stairs without any explanation and it took Rhysand a moment to spur into motion. Halfway up the stairs, he caught up to her. He stopped her just before she topped the stairs, his hand on her wrist, “What do you mean by that?”

“I told you that I had very little knowledge when it comes to…what we did in the theater.” Her voice started out confident, but she was stumbling over her words by the end. “I was…merely hoping you might be willing to give me another lesson.”

Cauldron, damn him, this woman.

Climbing up another step, he was level with her face for once, rather than his usual towering. Her lips parted as he brushed a thumb over them. “Lesson one,” he replied, voice low, leaning in, stealing the space between them. “What we did in the theater has many names. Call it what you will, sex, fucking, making love, but acknowledge what it is.”

Feyre wondered if he could hear her heart skip a beat, as it did when Rhysand got crass with her, but his mouth covered her before she could say anything. His arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her towards him, and she gasped as her hands braced herself on his strong shoulders. His tongue swept into her mouth, eliciting a soft whimper from Feyre.

Ripping his mouth from hers, Rhys pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. Breathing heavily, he said, “Now tell me again, Feyre, what is it we did in that theater?”

Her eyes were wild with need, the light from stars above making them glow and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. “You fucked me.”

Rhysand shuddered. “And how did it feel when I fucked you?”

“There are no words to describe how magnificent it felt,” she said, and her voice was shaky as his hands swept down her sides, to her hips, where he bunched up the fabric of her skirts. “The experience has left me in utter, agonizing want these last few days. Need.”

“Need,” he whispered, a breath against her lips. “And what is it you need?”

“You.” Her words were barely audible as if speaking had grown to be too much. “You, deep inside of me.”

Rhysand practically groaned at her words. He lifted her skirts up and with every hitch of the fabric, Feyre’s breathing increased. When he had an opening, he slid a hand beneath the dress and her shift until it found the throbbing warmth between her thighs. “And what is it you want deep inside of you?” He asked, kissing her softly, quickly, as a hand slid beneath her undergarments. He slid a finger between her slick folds. She was, indeed, in want. It drove Rhysand mad. “My cock?” He asked, voice low, and slid a finger slowly, so slowly up inside of her. “My fingers?” He thrust them in deeper, and Feyre gasped. “My tongue?”

She blinked, her eyebrows furrowing. “Your…tongue?”

The smile on Rhysand’s face became positively feral. “Imagine that I’m kissing you, just like this…” His words fell off as his mouth claimed hers again, his tongue sweeping her mouth. He only pulled away once she was panting, her hips rolling needily against his hand. He brushed his thumb over her mouth again. “But instead of kissing these lips, I’m kissing these.”

He punctuated his words by swirling his thumb around her clit and added another finger to her core.

“Oh my,” Feyre breathed, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Do you think that’s something you would like?” He breathed, praying she’d say yes.

“I suppose we should try it and see,” she said, hands running down his chest. Against his hand, those hips continued to move, begging him deeper, needing something to claim her then and there.

Rhysand let loose a breath and before she could form a solid thought, he was on his knees.

“Right here?” She asked, heart beating wildly. She looked around even though it was clear that they were completely alone.

“No one uses these,” he said, then added, “except the servants.”

Feyre balked but frowned as his fingers slid out of her. “And if a servant walks upon us?”

Rhysand’s eyes grew dark as he motioned for Feyre to sit upon the smooth marble, wide stair above him. She did as she was told. “Considering they’re all at the ball, they shouldn’t.” He lifted up the skirts of her dress. “But if one should happen upon us, let them see how much I please you.”

It was wild, reckless, and completely thrilling. Rhysand pulled off her undergarments and put them in his pocket before guiding her leg over his shoulder and trailing slow kisses down her thigh.

When he was settled between her legs, he looked up at her and grinned, cruelly and wickedly.

It set her soul alight as that need in her core grew immensely.

“Eyes on me,” he breathed and then lowered his head.

Feyre was holding her breath so tightly that when he pressed a featherlight kiss to her sex, she released a shocked puff of air.

Rhys lifted an eyebrow and raised his head, looking at her. “Yes?”

“That’s all it is?” She asked, voice strained.

“That’s all?” He repeated, and Feyre immediately knew she would regret the words. “Baby, I’ve only just begun.”

His head dropped again and this time, Feyre felt his warm tongue slide between her folds. Her gasp turned into a moan as he repeated the motion but dragged it up further, circling the sensitive nub his thumb had been teasing only minutes before.

Her head fell back, resting against the stair above her, her back arching off of them completely, and she moaned softly.

“Eyes on me, Feyre, darling.”

Rolling her head back towards him was a harder task than she would have imagined, but she found those violet eyes staring up at her. There had been emotion she couldn’t name that she’d felt in her chest for the past week and she found it reflected in his gaze. “I want you to watch me as I devour you.”

Her skin prickled at such a grand word, but it was not used lightly. He did devour her.

He sucked and licked until Feyre was seeing stars. The sounds flying from her mouth echoed in the silent staircase, each one growing in intensity.

All the while, she watched. She watched his brows furrow and twitch, watched him close and open his eyes, watched his head bob and his tongue dance. And when that tongue of his slid up inside of her, she watched him meet her gaze and grin.

The sight alone had her reaching that point of release. The feeling of utter euphoria was simply the icing on the top of the cake.

The staircase filled with her cries as her knees shook around his head but Rhysand didn’t stop, he only pushed forward, fucking her with his tongue until her body was so tense that he thought she may break in half.

Then he moved back to her clit, sucking the sensitive nub between his lips as two of his fingers filled her and continued to do his tongue’s previous job.

When her release found her for a second time, Feyre practically screamed his name, followed by a string of curses that should never leave a lady’s mouth.

Rhys waited until her knees quit shaking, waited until her breathing evened out to press a kiss to her inner thigh and lower his legs from his shoulders.

He adjusted her shift and then pulled down her skirts to cover her. As he reached for her hand, he crooned, “Consider your lesson complete.”

Her smile was brilliant as she stood, legs almost as wobbly as they’d been the night they’d spent together. “Very enlightening, your Grace.”

His tongue darted out, licking his lips, and it took Feyre a moment to realize what he was doing. What he was licking off of his lips. Her cheeks burned. “Can— Is that something I can do to you?”

The lust that had extinguished in his gaze came flooding back. “You want my cock in your mouth, Feyre?”

The way he spoke, it both scandalized her and aroused her. “If it’s something you would want.”

“You have no idea how much I would want that.”

Grinning, he leaned in and kissed her. She tasted it then, something salty and heady and…sweet. Pulling away, her tongue brushed her bottom lip and Rhys’s eyes tracked the movement. “You taste divine.”

Feyre could hardly breathe with how badly she wanted this man, needed him. She was about to ask him to take her to her room, his rooms, it didn’t matter where, just as long as he was between her legs, fucking her within the next few minutes, when there was a noise from the hall at the bottom of the stairs. He turned and looked, waiting, listening.

Finally, he turned back and cupped her face. “We should go back to the ball, we’re bound to be missed by now.”

Disappointment bloomed in her chest, but he was right. Nesta had no doubt noticed her absence and would be questioning her as soon as they returned.

She nodded and he gave her one last kiss.

It wasn’t until they re-entered the ball, him walking to the left, her to the right, that she realized her panties were still tucked away in his pocket.

<.>

For the entirety of the evening, Cassian could feel Nesta’s eyes on him. It bothered him far more than it should have. He didn’t care for her approval, didn’t even care that she did not approve of him marrying Elain.

Yet, the very thought of her sent a sensation through his body that had his heart pounding out of his chest. This woman was insufferable, a complete misery. Whenever she was around, she was all he could think about. Even when she was absent, she filled his thoughts.

It was not right, how she had begun to consume him. After watching her kill the buck that morning, his feelings had only intensified.

And they had been so close, sharing a breath. If the deer had not approached, Cassian feared he would have done something that he could not take back.

Yet, for a moment, there had been a look in Nesta’s eye that almost, almost resembled longing, resembled adoration, resembled need.

He needed some sort of distraction to help him get through the night, but neither of his brothers were anywhere to be found, nor was his betrothed. She’d slipped off nearly half an hour ago to refresh herself and hadn’t yet returned.

Glancing around the room, Cassian wondered if he could disappear for a moment himself. The ballroom was full, people dancing and drinking and, most importantly, distracted. It was likely that no one would notice him leave and he would be back within just a few minutes. Why swig champagne when he could drink whiskey?

As he was about to leave, he realized he hadn’t seen Nesta and, for once, didn’t feel her weighted gaze on him. He knew that meant this was his best chance to get out unnoticed and headed for the hallway off to the side of the ballroom. As he approached the foyer leading to the bedrooms, he heard a familiar voice and felt a familiar gaze.

Elain was speaking with a few ladies of the ton, mamas included, and Nesta stood beside her.

“Lord Nazari,” one of them called as soon as she saw him. “We were just congratulating your fiancée on your engagement. We cannot wait for the wedding.”

The smile on his face was forced, but after years of perfecting it, no one would know. He couldn’t wait either. As soon as he was married to Elain, these ridiculous thoughts of Nesta should be gone forever.

Or so he kept telling himself.

As he looked up to the woman in question, he could have sworn that she saw right through his false grin.

His eyes tore from her and settled on the mama who’d spoken. “Thank you, Lady Chamberlain, we are excited, as well.”

Elain was beaming up at him, but when he smiled down at her, he didn’t see the same intensity in her eyes that he saw in Nesta’s. He saw happiness, of course, but Elain was marrying him because it was best for her family and because he’d asked.

He remembered the scandal from last season. He had been drunk for most of the season, but he remembered the way she’d looked at the man who’d been courting her all summer.

She didn’t look at him like that.

“The ring is absolutely beautiful,” another said, holding her hand out until Elain delicately placed hers in it. They all stared at it, not a single thing that could be scrutinized. “What jeweler did you visit, I simply must stop in and see what else they have to offer.”

Cassian’s eyes were on the ring, no longer feeling his hand at the base of Elain’s spine. “It was my mother’s. No jeweler in town will have anything like it.”

“Ah,” the woman said, then went on to ramble about something that Cassian did not seem to hear, so he did not bother. He tuned out, although he kept that smile on his face just in case someone was looking, watching.

“Do you care to take a walk through the gardens, Lady Elain?” One of the young women asked. “I would love to hear your thoughts on your big day. Unless your betrothed wishes to spin you about the floor, of course.”

Elain looked up at Cassian but he shook his head. “Oh. No. Whatever Miss Elain would like.”

Elain looped her arm through the young lady’s and a group of them were off. Cassian watched them go only to look beside him and see that Nesta had not gone with.

No, she was looking at Cassian, watching him intently. “Were you trying to escape the festivities, my lord?”

“On the contrary,” he argued, turning to face her. He couldn’t help the sarcasm that leaked into his tone as he said, “I was looking for you, to see if you were enjoying yourself.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed, knowing perfectly well the thoughts that ran through his mind. “What’s not to enjoy? It is a lovely ball. I only have so many before I bid Velaris farewell. I may as well enjoy them while I can.”

Cassian’s entire being stilled. His heart stopped beating. He stopped breathing. His very soul halted in its existence.

“You’re…leaving?” His words were stilted, short. “When? Why?”

From the way her eyes flared slightly and her shoulders tensed a bit, it was clear she hadn’t been expecting his reaction. “I made a promise to my mother that I would make sure my sisters were ready for their debuts into the ton. Making sure Elain and Feyre find respectable matches is the only reason I have lingered in Velaris as long as I have.” She swallowed roughly and looked off to the open door, at the road that led out into the dark, into…wherever she wanted it to lead. “I have no doubt that Feyre will find a husband by the end of the season, once her infatuation with your brother recedes, and since you and Elain will be married soon, my promise will be fulfilled. I won’t be the poor, beautiful spinster who was too cold to find a husband. I’ll be…whoever I want to be.”

He wasn’t sure at what point he started shaking his head, but the back and forth was constant. “Where are you going? When will you leave?”

“I don’t know, my Lord, not until Feyre is at least engaged.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, but her gaze didn’t feel judgemental like it did before. “And I don’t know where I’ll go either. Wherever the wind takes me.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to say. There was too much he wanted to say but nothing he could put into words, so he simply stared until Nesta shifted on her feet.

Then he was spinning away from her and hurling himself into the hall.

He thought he heard something behind him but he ignored it. The pounding in his ears helped with that.

Leaving.

She was leaving?

What foolishness. She couldn’t just up and leave. It was ridiculous, yet he knew that she had meant what she had said.

In hardly no time at all, she would be gone and there would be nothing he could do about it. Not that he wanted to do anything about it, at least that’s what he told himself.

Yet, he ducked into the library at the end of the hall and shut the door behind him. Unable to control his breathing, he gripped the desk with white knuckles.

He should not care if he ever were to see Nesta Archeron again. Yet, the thought of her absence left a hollowness in his chest that he could not fix.

The door opened and closed behind him.

“What is wrong with you?”

He knew she’d follow him, somehow he knew. Turning, he was surprised to see Nesta’s eyes burning and her cheeks red in…in anger. “I would’ve thought that you would be thrilled about my departure, my Lord. Elain is free to make her own decision and she has made it, even though she knows how I feel about you.”

“And how do you feel about me?” His voice was far louder than he meant for it to be, but she did not flinch from him.

The storm in her eyes raged on. “I hate you.”

He rounded the desk between them. “Do you?”

As he approached, she steeled herself, it was as if Cassian could physically see walls going up in her eyes, her heart. “Yes.”

“And why, pray tell, do you hate me?” He paused a healthy distance away. “What exactly have I done to make you hate me? Why have I earned your scorn?”

“Because…” Nesta’s chest was heaving and she closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Because you vex me!”

Cassian almost laughed, but he didn’t. Nothing in his life had ever been more serious than what was happening right now. But the fact that she found him vexing? When she infuriated him so?

“And what is it that you think you do to me?”

Nesta was still shaking her head, but those eyes had shuttered a bit. “I don’t care what I do to you.”

“Because you hate me?” He asked, voice low, stepping closer.

Her breath caught at his approach. Her eyes burned into his but they had lost their edge. Her gaze alone made his body tense, hard, and he longed to take her face into his hands and bring that longing into fruition with his mouth against hers.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I hate you.”

A lie, a complete lie, but a necessary one. He stared at her, hands flexing at his sides.

“Nesta,” he began, her name nothing more than a whisper. He was close enough now to hear how uneven her breathing was, was close enough to see her hands trembling. Yet, her eyes never wavered from his.

“Yes, my lord?” For once, his title was not a sneer on her tongue. Instead, it felt like a request; a quiet, sensual demand. Her chest was flushed, her cheeks paled.

Cassian’s tongue trailed his bottom lip and her eyes quickly darted from his to track the movement. He hadn’t realized that they had gotten so close that he could feel the heat radiating from her body, as if there was a gravitational pull between them that defied all logic and propriety.

“I am a gentleman…” he began, and he wasn’t sure if he was reminding her or himself. He thought back to Tanwyn’s words when they had last met, when she had acknowledged that he was certainly not a gentleman. Perhaps she was correct.

“And your heart is with my sister,” Nesta added, although he hardly heard her words. He was too focused on her lust-filled eyes, certain they mirrored his own.

“And my heart…” he began, his voice low, rough, his forehead nearly touching hers, so close to what he so desperately wanted, “is with your sister.”

Another damned lie.

Another necessary one.

One more move, just a slight dip of his chin, and his lips would find hers. He wondered what they tasted like.

Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut, those lashes brushing against her cheeks. “What are you…”

He had no idea where this was coming from, why he felt the need to drag his fingers over her gloved arms. He longed to feel her skin beneath his, but knew that would snap what little control he currently held. “Say you do not care for me.”

The gasp that left Nesta was nothing more than a sharp inhale, parting her lips and bringing them somehow closer together. She was shaking her head again, those eyes he so often got lost in still closed. He wanted her to open them, wanted to see the fire churning within them.

He brushed his fingers against hers, sparks igniting despite the silken fabric between them. “Tell me you feel nothing and I will walk away.”

Her eyes opened once more and there was a softness there that had Cassian’s breath ceasing. “I feel….”

He waited for her to finish but she never did. Cassian’s chin tilted, just barely, just enough that the softest of whimpers came from Nesta’s parted lips.

His fingers brushed hers again and she gasped, his breath hot against her mouth.

He was going to kiss her.

He was, he was so close, every inch of his body was on edge. He could nearly taste her, could nearly brush his tongue along hers and feel just how much longing was confined within the bounds of her exquisite form.

But he never did.

The door burst open and both of their heads snapped to the intruder.

Feyre stilled, eyes wide as she took in the scene before her, their bodies nearly touching, both of their chests heaving.

“Oh..” she hesitated, and took a step back. “My apologies.” Then she was gone, fleeing the scene before Cassian could even more.

“Feyre!” Nesta called, and panic had taken over her features. “Feyre, wait!”

She did not give Cassian another glance before running out of the room, after her sister.

____________________________________________________________

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#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #period au #19th century au #1800s au #bridgerton au #shacmc collab

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