When you want to see your other comfort characters but too emotionally drained to put yourself through more Tolkien bullshit

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When you want to see your other comfort characters but too emotionally drained to put yourself through more Tolkien bullshit
Pick a Blacthorn Key dadcombe fic I wrote/am writing
Leaving Behind: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32570542
The trap: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44544904
What have I done: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33808432
Bad News: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39801579
Contemplations: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44585584
It's not your fault: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32498644
In the Lab: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32527612
Undone by Innocent eyes: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32816503
A terrible thing: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44887591
Of Blood and Water: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44932174/chapters/11305717
rereading that stupid fucking fic just to feel like theres a sliver of hope so i dont fall into a depressive spiral tonight would have worked if i wasnt already so hopeless so now i just feel worse :)
im putting all my screencaps from this fic under the cut bc i know ill want to be gay about it later
Wildflowers
A/N: Originally posted on Lunaescence.com. Based on Mars, by Fuyumi Soryo.
Content Warnings: Reader Insert, Swearing, Lime, Lemon, (Off Scene) Rape (past)
Rating: M
001
There is a boy who has just transferred to your tiny school in your tiny town. He has a head of bright, yellow hair; out in the sunlight, you have to cover your eyes because the combined power of both the giant star and his golden head feels like it will burn your retinas.
You suddenly get the overwhelming urge to draw him.
He is at the end of the hallway. His backpack’s straps are slung over his shoulder, but the body of the backpack sits against his chest, providing easy access to the contents. He is searching inside for something, and you open your locker and pretend to shift books and change out notebooks. Slyly, you try to hide secret glances his way, but it’s like he can feel it, like he can feel your curious gaze from feet away, and he looks up. You make eye contact, and you suddenly feel that if you were a hunter out in the wild, you would starve to death from never being able to sneak up on your prey – but the way he looks at you, the way he raises a brow and grins, the way he sticks out his tongue and you see a cold, metal glint, right in the middle, makes you realize that you have your roles reversed.
yay I did another chapter for the molwy fic...i don't know why tbh haha. this is it.
Wow I finally wrote another chapter for Coldstuck