#/just wanted to do a quick drawing of them as a treat for myself after working on so much merch :')

[jaderavenarts]

Soft cowboys for the charthur fam 😘

[so-i-did-this-thing]

do you have any injection tips for people with phobias of needles? i want results as fast as possible but also the thought of jabbing myself with one of those things makes me want to hurl 😵‍💫

Quick tips:

Draw with 1 needle, inject with another for the sharpest tip

Try a thinner gauge for injection (I do 23g)

Try different injection zones (ask your provider to show you).

Aim for one swift motion. Harness your emotions for the energy, then disassociate a tad for a smooth stab.

If you fuck up and don't break the skin far enough, switch to a fresh needle.

Don't let the T drip all down the needle before injecting - that'll make it burn more.

Don't inject too quickly or it hurts more - just concentrate on a slow, smooth motion on the plunger and do not look at your skin

Treat injection like a little ritual. I like to do after a long, hot bath.

Get someone else to inject for you

It's annoying even without a phobia, but hurts less and less the more your practice. Maybe your phobia gets better with exposure. You honestly just have to give it a go, see if your provider will let you inject in the office, with them as a backup. If all else fails, try T in a different form.

Good luck!

As usual, folks feel free to add their own tips. :)

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: I Can’t Help Myself*

————————————————————————-

Summary: While Joe’s away doing foundation stuff, there's an overwhelming amount of photos of him popping up on Twitter and Instagram. All of them had you patiently waiting for your fiance's arrival home.

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagines Universe: Just the Two of Us

A/N: Apron and shirtless Joe have me feral, had to speed-write this.

————————————————————————-

March 3rd, 2024

It all started with an innocent text from my bestie.

Attachment: 1 Image… Tumblr is going crazy over this right now!

At that moment, I shook my head with a laugh at my best friend's text. She was on Tumblr to keep up with her celebrity crushes, but one day, she jokingly looked my fiance's name up. She would never give me details about what was on the ‘tag’, but she'd now and then tell me what was up with Joe Burrow Tumblr.

Joe had left the house earlier today for a foundation event at a soup kitchen here in Cincy. Robin and Jimmy, Joe’s parents, had come from Athens and were going with him.

By the looks of the picture my best friend sent, Joe wasn't having as bad of a time as he anticipated he would. This morning was full of endless grumbles before I eventually shoved Joe out of the door, but he was smiling in the picture as he poured some soup into a bowl.

He seriously looked adorable. The Guinness hat gives him an oddly innocent look, while the apron he's wearing adds to the cuteness factor.

I'm so buying that man an apron to wear when we're cooking. I thought to myself, giggling out loud.

After sending my bestie a quick response back, I pulled up Joe’s contact.

Nice apron, cutie. 😉

Naturally, It was a while later when Joe answered, but his response set butterflies off in my stomach.

Depending on the intentions behind the wink emoji, I could ask to bring one home if it works ya up.

Taking a few moments to calm down, I shot a nonchalant response back to Joe.

The hat too?

The hat too. I draw the line at the plastic gloves, though. I gotta feel you with no barriers, baby.

How this man can control every pulse point in my body with just his words will never fail to amaze me.

Shit, my mom was reading that beside me. 😬

JOSEPH LEE BURROW.

My stomach dropped at the thought of Robin reading her son practically dirty-talking to me. That's next-level embarrassment.

I'm joking, babe. See you later, with an apron and hat.

Omg, Joe! If I was with you right now, you'd get smacked in the back of the head. I love you, though. See ya later!

Love you too. 😘

This morning, Joe woke up ready to go. I'm not talking about being ready to go to the foundation event, I'm talking about sex.

Joe woke up most mornings wanting a quick romp to start the day, so it had slowly become a part of our daily routine.

It was a different story today, though.

—

Still naked from the previous night’s lovemaking session, Joe had pulled me into him as our lips met. I'd just gotten close enough to grind on his erection when Joe’s phone rang on the nightstand.

“You should probably get that.” - you said between kisses

Joe groaned out of annoyance when he pulled away and grabbed his phone, rolling his eyes when he saw the caller ID.

“Who is it?” - you stroked his chest

“My mom.” - Joe

“Why'd you roll your eyes then?” - you

He sighed and pulled me into his chest, moving his hips away, knowing any friction would make him lose control.

“She treats me like a little kid every time we have one of these foundation events.” - Joe

“You're her baby, Joe. She’s just looking out for you.” - you

Joe nodded with a sigh and accepted the call.

“Hey Mom, yeah I'm awake.” - Joe

His deep, raspy morning voice made my cheeks heat up, and I hid my blush in his chest.

“My shirt’s been ironed, yes. y/n ironed it and laid it out last night.” - Joe

The silence gave me the ability to hear what Robin was saying, and the words she said only made my heart flutter.

“You better have thanked her. Joe, I don't think you realize how lucky you are to have that woman by your side.” - Robin

“I'm very lucky, Mom. Wouldn't be who I am without her.” - Joe

“Make sure she knows that. I'll see you later, sweetie!” - Robin

“Bye, Mom.” - Joe

I cuddled closer to Joe, listening to him mumble a quick “Yes, I love you too” before hanging up.

“Wouldn't be where you are without me, huh sheisty?” - you laughed

“Shut it.” - Joe rolled his eyes

A few seconds of content silence passed before Joe cleared his throat and sat up.

“Okay, I'm like super horny right now, but I'm gonna push that away because I've been thinking about something.” - Joe

“What's that?” - you

“We still haven't told anybody that I proposed. I told you we could wait till we got back to Cincy, and we've been back for weeks. I'm trying to say that we need to tell our families soon.” - Joe

“Oh ok, that's fine. Whenever you want to, I'm down.” - you

“Actually? Just like that?” - Joe

I giggled and gently reached out to comb back the curls that had fallen over on Joe’s forehead.

“Yeah, just like that. It's been fun keeping it just between us, but I want nothing more than telling our family we’re gonna get married.” - you

“Can I also ask you about something else?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you

Joe sighed and took a second to clear his thoughts.

“You okay?” - you

“Yeah… I'm just trying to pay attention, it's kinda hard to, you know…” - Joe

He flicked his head down toward the tented sheet covering his lap.

“Focus, babe.” - you laughed

“Okay, uhm… what if we got married earlier than this coming offseason?” - Joe

“What do you mean?” - you tilted your head to the side

“What if we got married at the courthouse, no one else there? Just you, me, and the judge. It could be as soon as next month or as late as a week before our actual ceremony.” - Joe

I let his idea sink in, thinking about how sweet his idea of getting married soon is.

“I’m listening.” - you smiled

“We won't do our big vows or even exchange rings yet, just the license saying we're married, and hopefully your name change.” - Joe grinned

“y/n Burrow.” - you

Joe grinned from ear to ear, a blush on his cheeks as he heard my first name paired with his last name.

“Always thought that sounded perfect. I remember thinking about it on the first day of college during roll call. I couldn't take my eyes off of you after our professor said your name, and I thought about your last name as Burrow.” - Joe

“You're adorable.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe

A few seconds went by without either of us saying something, but Joe broke it with a sigh.

“Are we going to continue what we were doing before your mom called?” - you

“Sadly, I have to start getting ready. Waiting will make tonight even better, though.” - Joe winked

“How do you know I'll even want it later?” - you

“You will, baby. You always do.” - Joe

—

Now, here I was, staring at a picture of my fiance pouring soup into a bowl.

Something about the moment just screamed husband.

Maybe it was the adorable apron. Or hat. Or plastic gloves.

Whatever it was, I wanted more of it. More of him. All of him.

My thoughts lingered to the most intimate moments with Joe. Catching myself before I got too worked up, I pulled up my phone to scroll through Instagram.

As soon as I did, though, my plan of a distraction was shot to hell.

Justin Hillard made a post of the Arizona trip the boys went on and one of the last slides showcased a sweaty, shirtless Joe.

“Where's Joe when you need him.” - you groaned

—

What felt like hours later, I heard the garage door open signaling Joe was home.

A minute later, his tall frame was striding into the kitchen. I watched him look around for a second before his eyes landed on me.

A grin formed on his lips as he walked up to the couch. Joe dropped to his knees in front of me and leaned in for a kiss.

When I went to pull away, Joe grabbed the back of my neck to keep me in place. After a few minutes of making out, Joe finally pulled away.

“Sorry, I really needed that.” - Joe sheepishly smiled

“It's alright, I did too.” - you smiled

“How was your day? I didn't leave you too bored, right?” - Joe

“My day was good, and no. I spent most of it obsessing over the new pics of you.” - you

“Felt like I never left then, huh?” - Joe

“Dead wrong. Staring at the pictures only made me miss you more.” - you

I watched as Joe teasingly licked his lips, never once breaking eye contact.

“Why's that?” - Joe

“Cut the shit, Joe. You know exactly why.” - you

“Because we didn't have sex this morning? That's why you missed me?” - Joe

“Well, that's not the only reason why. I naturally hate being away from you, but yes sex has something to do with it.” - you

Joe reached out and placed his hand on my inner thigh, nestling his hand against my crotch.

“Wanna go upstairs then?.” - Joe

I nodded, and Joe was quick to stand up and pick me up bridal style.

Giggles flew from both of our lips as Joe hurried up the stairs to our bedroom.

Soon, Joe was laying me on the bed and crawling on top of me.

“I love you.” - you said between kisses

Joe smiled and returned the sentiment, my arms wrapping around his neck as we kissed.

“Listen let's just get straight to it. I've been looking forward to this all day.” - you

“You don't want the tongue & finger combo first?” - Joe

I laughed at his bluntness before nodding my head.

“I need you inside me.” - you

“Fuck, I love hearing you say that.” - Joe

Joe placed his lips back on mine and shifted his weight onto one arm, lifting the other hand to unzip his fly.

I helped him shed his pants off, but Joe took my hand away when I reached for his boxers. He sat back on his knees for a second to pull his shirt over his head, quickly returning to his position above me when he was done.

My arms were around his shoulder as Joe slowly dropped his hips to grind on me. Just seconds later he'd pull away to take my clothes off.

When we were both naked, Joe’s lust-filled eyes scanned over my body before reversing course and locking with mine.

“God, you're beautiful, baby.” - Joe

After Joe lined himself up to my entrance, he slowly pushed inside. Making sure I felt every inch of him.

“You feel so good.” - Joe groaned

“You too…” - you

“So hot and wet for me, baby.” - Joe

Joe didn't move for a minute, just savoring the feeling of my walls wrapped around his hard cock.

“Joey, move, please?” - you

I watched him nod before he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to my cheek. Joe formed a path of kisses from my cheek to my lips.

Once he met my lips, Joe slipped out of me before slamming his cock back inside.

Both of us moaned loudly when his tip hit my cervix, my walls squeezing Joe’s thrusting cock as he set a rough pace.

“You feel insane.” - Joe moaned

“I've been dreaming about this… all day.” - you

A few minutes later, Joe and I were still locked together at mouth and crotch.

“I'm not gonna last much longer.” - Joe moaned

“Me… neither.” - you

Joe’s face contorted as the overwhelming pleasure coursed through his body. His cute nose scrunching as his eyes are clenched shut.

“Oh, fuck!” - Joe grunts

Seconds later, with a shaky hand, Joe reaches down to where we were connected and rubbed my clit with his thumb. His thrusts became uneven but never once unsatisfactory.

“Joey! I'm gonna cum!” - you moaned

It wasn't much longer after that when I fell over the edge, moaning Joe’s name through my climax.

Joe continued his thrusts before rushing to get as deep as he could.

His head fell back, and his mouth fell open. A moan and grunt of my name leaves his pretty pink lips as he cums.

After his orgasm, Joe fell forward and on top of me. Burying his face in my neck as he stayed inside me, fading out the experience.

I reached a hand up and cupped the back of Joe’s head, slowly running my fingers through his unruly curls. The comforting sounds of our mutual heavy breath and the ceiling fan created a soft moment.

“You really liked that apron, huh?” - Joe

“Yeah.” - you giggled

Joe stayed there for a bit, enjoying being cuddled before he eventually pulled out and hopped out of bed.

My eyes lingered on his perfectly plump butt as Joe walked into our bathroom, later returning with a washcloth to clean us both up.

He strode up to me as I stayed lying in the bed. Joe softly caressed my thighs while gently spreading my legs apart.

I hummed in contentment at the feel of the warm washcloth, and Joe only smiled at the sound.

After cleaning himself up too, Joe slipped on a pair of clean boxers.

“Do you want one of my shirts to sleep in? Panties too, maybe?” - Joe

“Just one of your shirts will be fine.” - you smiled

Joe nodded and disappeared into the closet. A few seconds later, he walked back in with one of his pregame shirts that was from a previous season.

“Lean up for me, baby.” - Joe

I did his bidding and Joe slipped the top over my head, making sure my arms went through the sleeves.

“Comfy?” - Joe

He walked around the bed and climbed into his side.

“Very, and it smells like you.” - you grinned

“I hope that's a good thing.” - Joe laughed

“It's a very good thing, you smell delicious.” - you

Joe chuckled as he pulled me into his chest, one of his big hands running over my back as my head was hidden in Joe’s neck.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you more.” - Joe

He lovingly stroked my hair, providing tender words of affirmation and holding me tightly in his arms during their comforting aftercare ritual.

“Oh shit, do you know what I just realized?” - Joe

“What?” - you

“My apron is down in my car. I forgot to show you.” - Joe sighed

“It's okay. You can show me tomorrow.” - you giggled

“Guess what.” - Joe

I narrowed my eyes, trying to see his expression in the dark but failing.

“What?” - you

“I grabbed one for you too.” - Joe smiled

“Oh my god.” - you laughed

“I couldn't help myself!” - Joe

He laughed along with me before we both paused, coincidently yawning in sync, which ended in another laughing fit.

“Goodnight, baby.” - you

“Goodnight, my love.” - Joe

————————————————————————-

Authors note: because Joe was illegally fine that day.

Came from my own head! 💞

[mamamangaka]

(No one has posted this and I need it so I shall cook for myself)

- Yandere!Alastor with a g/n reader who likes toys and art stuff -

Okay so here’s the thing I kinda see about Alastor:

Hes a fucking looney who will do anything and everything to keep you if he happens to fall in love.

But lemme tell you if you break past those walls and manage to ameliorate his aceness to the point that he’s yandere about you then baby you done.

You might as well have signed over your soul to him.

I like to think only one thing in particular would peak his interest at first.

Maybe your drawing outside a coffee shop -

Or reading tarot cards at the park?

Perhaps even reading under a tree, who knows?

But whatever it is, Alastor saw you and he froze.

He never once expected to fall so deeply in love (especially not at first sight) and I feel that when he did finally succumb after a bit of denial, it would be a quick realization and he’d make a decision to seek you out immediately.

He’d closely stalk you for some time but when he gets you, he’d keep you in his radio tower, where no one else goes and where his world really is.

He’d probably kidnap you mere weeks after realizing he’s enamored, it wouldn’t take long before he came up behind you out of nowhere.

He was someone you’d only seen once or twice in passing but found attractive each time, though you weren’t exactly thinking about a partnership.

He wouldn’t be asking you, he’d simply take you.

(You didn’t need to know he’d been admiring you anyway.)

You weren’t someone of great power or who was well known. You simply met a tragic fate and unfortunately ended up here by mistake due to being involved in “black magic”.

It was unfair, in your opinion, to be cast down simply due to your divination talents and history.

Never once did you misuse your gifts yet here you were.

When you come around, you’re in Alastor room in the hotel.

He explains the situation and gives you options.

You ask to go, not interested in whatever he’s offering and he explains that’s not an option so you need to pick another one.

After demanding to leave, trying to open the door, banging and calling for help and eventually pleading and sobbing with him, you realize you aren’t going anywhere.

You wheep and hoarsely beg as he carries you into the wooded area that seems to pocket into another place.

You realize later that it was a path to the radio tower.

There’s a wooden door that leads to his own personal “home” in that tower.

And inside, I’d expect it’s quite nice.

Greenery everywhere, plants and/or herbs hanging from the ceiling and a cozy woodstove. Lovely flowers and pretty trees surrounding the outside, blocking the view of the horrors that hell had naturally.

A earthy, modest but very comfortable and exquisite environment and cottage style house with at least one library on hand.

But he can take all this beauty away quite easily, so don’t forget or step out of line. The view is a luxury he gives based on your behavior; do not tread lightly.

Now, he’s very commanding and strict with his darling, often times dictating what they eat and wear, bossing them around and physically moving them to where he wants.

• “My little doe, you were simply taking too much time to get to me, I was just helping you along.”

• “Oh darling, don’t you know I’m doing this for your own good? Don’t cry, come here: give me a kiss.”

• “No no, little doe. It’s best if you rest right now. Ah, yes, I can see you don’t want to sleep. How about I read to you or turn the radio on, hm?”

But he’s also super old timey and you would immediately be considered his spouse, and he would pamper and treat you with such respect (at least as much as he could)

If he found out you liked dolls or soft toys, well he’d be all over that and try to use it to his advantage.

I feel like it would be a rag doll copy of himself or a porcelain/ball jointed doll (dressed in 1920-1950 attire) as a Victorian styled Queen or what not.

• “You seem so lonely honey bun, so I picked you up something nice. Hopefully it will warm you a little when you think of me.”

• “I can see you fiddle with your hands a lot, mi amor. Here, have a doll to dress and play with for when your pretty hands need a break from the books.”

• “Oh my, it seems a nap is in order for your crankiness. Where is your toy? It’s better for you to have something to sleep with while I’m doing the broadcast.”

But he wouldn’t have bought it for you, oh no, because the only thing he buys you is the most pristine art supplies and most flattering jewelry and clothes —

— he’d have made this himself for you, from his own power.

And he’d use it to keep an eye on you no matter where you happened to be.

Needed a moment alone? Not without the doll he gave you.

Was hiding from punishment? Not without the doll.

If you left it somewhere in a vain attempt for distance, you’d find it on your person the second you reached in your bag or turned around.

And when Alastor found out you left it? He’d be livid.

But you wouldn’t know he was mad by his face, only his voice and the static crackle in the background.

• “Don’t you ever leave that doll again sweetheart. Do you understand me?”

• “This is how I protect you, darling. It’s best for everyone if you follow direction.”

• “Now honey, you don’t want to lose your privilege to wander around the hotel and mingle with the others, do you? Then you best keep that doll close, hm?”

If you possibly took a liking to the doll he gave you, well..

His heart might soar, he won’t lie

How cute and innocent you were, so completely unaware of the horrors he possesses — the doll possesses — if you step out of line

It’s something he really loves about you; you trust him (mostly bc you have to)

And if you took up sewing to make outfits for the doll?? He’d be so over the moon and even conjure up a little wardrobe for them if enough clothes are made.

And your drawings??? Oh don’t even get me started

too late I did it myself here I go

He would parade you around like you were the messiah of the demonic art world

It didn’t matter if you or anyone else thought you were good

You like doing it? Hes gonna over indulge you.

You drew something just for him???

Then it’s getting a golden frame and you’re getting the radio host fame.

He wouldn’t let anyone touch your sketchbook. He’d actually kill anyone who destroys any piece of your work.

He always coos over you, he’s literally obsessed with you.

Admires you while your drawing like you are the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Always begs to see your drawings.

Does everything in his power to help you with inspiration or getting out of art block.

Hangs up his favorite pieces you’ve done around the hotel and talks you up to everyone.

• “My my, who would have guessed my little doe was so full of talent? Ah-ha, well me, of course!”

• “Oh yes, they’re nothing short of extraordinary and excel in everything they attempt. It’s absolutely magnificent.”

• “Quite the looker, aren’t they? It’s no wonder I fell so hard, they made this old withering heart beat once more.”

NOW LETS ADDRESS THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM:

What if you broke a rule? Either accidental or on purpose?

*rubs palms together deviously*

I mean it’s hell, so it’s not like you could actually die and he’d permanently lose you, but I could see him considering killing, traumatizing and horrifying you to make a point for when you came back. If you broke the rule on purpose or left the hotel without a damn good reason or asking him, I definitely think he’d ponder on it.

But I honestly don’t know if he’d be able to go that far if he’s to the point that he’s fallen for you.

I definitely think he’d be the kind to chain you away for a bit and ignore you for a while after really scaring you though, having only come in when you cry out for him or need to be attended.

He’d be condescending and emotionally manipulating for sure.

• “Well dear, we wouldn’t be in this predicament if you would have just listened and been good, hm?”

• “No no, you can’t come downstairs. I told you this time out is for two weeks. It’s been only two days darling.”

•“Now that’s not the way one of such class as ourselves behave. Shush your crying, my sweet.”

He wouldn’t tolerate a darling openly defying him, he’d put you over his knee and bruise your behind so quick and wouldn’t think twice.

And getting off punishments easy? Nah.

Good behavior or not, you’re gonna be going through the whole thing every single time. He won’t let you have even an ounce of wiggle room on that.

Your bottom stings after only thirty spanks? He isn’t stopping. He said 50 and he meant it, so buckle up buttercup, this is gonna be a long ride.

You don’t want to finish your plate? Well that’s a nice opinion, quite cute! .. but he doesn’t recall asking you what you wanted, so eat up ~

You aren’t tired? Well, allow him the pleasure of wearing you out and soothing you to slumber.

I think he’d allow the darling to cling to him though, that’s the kind of yandere I see him as. He’d maybe mock you a little at first and seem patronizing but all in all, he finds the need to touch him endearing and he does become fond of it.

I think he’d make you dependent on it, really. He’d always encourage you to cuddle up to him, always making sure you sit or stand directly next to him and that’s he’s always got his arm around you or you hanging onto his own.

He’d be tolerant of your crying. I think he’d find you cute while in distress, so that would be his favorite time to hold you tight. He’d caress your tearstreaks and kiss away the droplets.

•“Sweet sugar plum, you’ve been so emotional lately.”

• “Pretty crybaby, what can I do to make you feel better? Come now, there must be something your husband can whip up for you.”

“Oh, my poor, darling y/n..” he’d tsk, stroking the side of your face and nuzzling noses, “don’t cry, hush now, it’s alright, your faithful and devoted protector is here.”

[germesthegenie]

Brief Respite At The End Of The World

Little doodle that I imagine takes place some time either during Arc 29 or after Arc 30. Wanted to do a quick drawing of this ship that for some reason lives rent free in my brain (Does it even have, like, a ship name? If there isn’t I think either Gauntlet or Handcuff could work for if I ever need to tag it but idk)

Way Too Much Yapping about a relationship between two tertiary characters below:

Part of the reason I like this ship is because these two were surprise favorites in the latter half of Worm, and I thought the mentions of them getting together in Arc 26 and 29 were cute. Though thinking a lot on the two characters (and probably a good bit of headcanon tbh), I started to appreciate it a lot more.

For Theo’s end of things, he’s always been burdened by expectations. His father tried to mold him into the next leader of the E88 from a young age, but Theo pushed back against that, instead wanting to be a hero. And then he got that, and a lot more than he asked for, accidentally becoming essentially a hero of prophecy thanks to Jack’s promise. Suddenly he wasn’t just a hero, he had to be *the* hero, live up to impossible expectations and save the world. And he was treated based on those expectations. His friendship with Weaver was pretty much based on the fact Taylor had to train him, try to make him the guy who could defeat Jack Slash. And then he failed, just barely missing the mark, and those expectations came crashing down around him. He distances himself from his team, and is mostly sulking in the background for the opening acts of Gold Morning, though one person does make an effort to reach out to him.

Aside from maybe Purity (who has her own set of issues), Ava is one of the few people in Theo’s life who likes and cares about who he is, not who he could be. And at his lowest point, where he feels he failed everyone, she’s trying to do what she can to help him recover and see he’s not a failure. And she does succeed eventually, as we see him up to fight a couple chapters later in the arc.

(Also it’s really funny and sweet that the meek girl from Arc 24 was able to almost convince Taylor “You can’t tell me what to do” Hebert to drop everything and talk to Golem, made a doodle of it a while back)

On Ava’s side of things, there’s admittedly not nearly as much to glean from just her characterization in the text alone. Like I said, she’s one of the few who appreciates Theo for who he is, regardless of expectations put on him by others. Their stories aren’t so different, only that her nemesis of sorts (Behemoth) was killed just as she was starting out. And after that fight she’s terrified, choosing not to attend the Khonsu fight. But Theo keeps pushing himself, trains knowing he’ll have to fight things that are arguably worse than the Endbringers when it comes to pain and fates worse than death. I like to think his inspiration is what led to the much more confident Cuff we see after the timeskip (though the Taylor Hebert Bootcamp probably also helped there). The main other thing we know is she had a previous boyfriend who she broke up with due to the pressures Weaver put the Chicago Wards under (which is probably a whole separate post to get into). So maybe their relationship is something that lets them both have a sense of normalcy in the insanity that is late Worm.

Or, you know, maybe I’m reading way too much into my two blorbos whose relationship gets like 5 lines of canon mention and 1 fanfic that I know of (shoutout again to Chartic, Off the Cuff is like a third of the reason I like this ship so much) and this is the best way I could put together why short of writing a fanfic myself (I might ngl but I do not have time atm)

[katasstrophy]

I think everyone in the Bllk Fandom has agreed that everyone single guy would be intensely and stupidly obsessed when in love, but who are the biggest simps in your opinion and what is the simpiest thing they would do?? (Simp is used very affectionately btw)

nonnie, if they ain't simping, I don' want 'em ! tags. afab! reader. use of y/n once. suggestive themes in isagi’s. i think i use one bad word lol. kayla if you’re reading this the nanase one’s for YOU! 🫵

THE BIGGEST SIMPS OF BLUE LOCK (AFFECTIONATE):

—TOKIMITSU AOSHI

this hunk of a nervous wreck genuinely wakes up every day baffled by the fact that he gets to call you his romantic partner. it is beyond any semblance of logic he possesses why you chose to date him of all people — you asked him out, yet he was the one that almost keeled over from nervousness — and it regularly sends him down a neverending loop of self-doubt. your presence, however, soothes the brunt of that spiralling. it doesn’t stop his anxiety entirely, he knows that’s not how it works, but being around you dulls the noise in his head to a thrum he can manage, focusing instead on being in the moment with you. that’s why tokimitsu has the uncanny ability to spot you wherever you are, no matter the circumstances. he could be in the middle of an intense game with thousands watching from the bleachers or waiting near a busy intersection in shibuya to treat you to some umeboshi riceballs for your date, he’s so attuned to you, he’ll glance up and you’re there, cheering him on or giving him an enthusiastic wave with a grin that splits your cheeks apart, the sight making his heart beat erratically in his ribcage, this time not from nerves, but love.

—NANASE NIJIRO

this absolute sweetheart of a man is always talking about you, not that it ever occurred to him that he shouldn’t. he’s the type of boyfriend who finds a million ways to sneak you into the conversation while hanging out with his friends, completely turning the topic from him to you. a simple question of what were you up to this weekend? leads to an inevitable but hearty ramble of oh y/n and i went on a picnic back in kansai, and they made these super yummy wanpaku sandwiches- until basically everyone in his immediate circle can recount your life history. and nanase manages this so naturally, so effortlessly, that his friends don’t even notice they haven’t been told a single piece of information about how he’s doing until they draw a blank about anything regarding him, but can recall your great sandwich making skills and the promotion you recently received with great detail. on the occasion you go pick him up after late-night practice, his teammates frequently congratulate you on things you have zero memory of sharing. at your quirked brows, nanase only chuckles and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, as if to say i just can’t help myself when it comes to you. he really is your most ardent supporter.

—ISAGI YOICHI

you know those how men wanna be treated when their boys aren’t around memes? isagi’s stance towards your relationship is the furthest thing away from that. he’s open and honest with his affection for you and doesn’t give a rat’s ass about who happens to see him being horrendously smitten with you. he spins around with you at the airport every time you come to greet him home even though he knows it’s super cheesy and the paparazzi may be watching. he rests your chin on your shoulder at formal events, gently swaying your bodies as he hugs you from behind to cure his boredom. he flashes a cheeky grin when you ladle him with sweet pet names, cooing right back at you. his teammates tease and make fun of him mercilessly for it, but isagi’s quick to spit back an aw, not getting any good pussy lately? sorry for your loss, humbling them so nonchalantly you almost forget to smack him for it. it doesn’t deter him in the slightest as he hooks a long finger past the waistband of your pants to pull you closer, ushering you out so you can go home and watch the newest episode of your show together, leaving his gobsmacked teammates behind.

—BONUS: RAICHI JINGO

he has such that’s my wife! energy. raichi would love to show you off and rub it into anyone’s face that he scored the fucking jackpot with you, so everyone can go cry about it while he gets to hog all your attention lol he adores you.

[dljcem]

ೃ༄ Sunsetz

ponyboy curtis fluff alphabet

ik this isn’t a request but i couldn’t help myself. template by @/queervibesmydude !

warnings: not beta or proof read

a= admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

ponyboy loves your outlook on life. if you ask about it, he’ll say it’s because it makes you you, separates you from the crowd. he also likes your kindness; he hasn’t exactly met a lot of nice people throughout his lifetime. 

b= body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

his favorite would have to be your hands—he could hold them for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

c= cuddling (do they like to cuddle?)

it honestly depends on his mood. if its a bad day, he’ll want some space for himself. if not? he’s happy to hold you (or let you hold him) to your hearts content.

d= dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

movie date, all the way! he’ll take you to the nightly double, treat you to some food from the concession stand, and let you lay your head on his shoulder as you watch whatever’s playing<3

e= emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

he doesn’t always express his emotions out loud, especially when they’re negative. his body language is what gives him away; he can’t conceal it for the life of him.

f= family (do they want one? if so, when?)

family is a big aspect of his life. he has two biological brothers, and four non-blood related-ones. he knows for a fact he wants to start his own someday; have one or two kids, and a dog for good measure.

as for when, he prefers to wait until you’re both ready to settle down. so, probably a few years after college?

g= gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?)

he doesn’t care much for receiving them; he’d rather you show your affection through words or touch or simply spending time with him.

for the most part, he only gets you gifts on special occasions. your birthday, your anniversary, christmas, and so on. in his eyes, they’re more meaningful when given on certain days.

h= holding hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

he likes to hold your hand gently, trace imaginary shapes onto your knuckles with his thumb and whatnot. he’ll do it whenever he gets the chance to.

i= injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

his first thought—and priority—is to make it better. he’ll bandage you up before you can even ask him to. after that, he might be upset at himself for not being there. he’s tired of being so helpless when the people he cares for get hurt.

j= jokes (do they like to joke around with you or prank you? how?)

he doesn’t joke around much, unless he’s feeling particularly talkative. it’s just not his cup of tea. he does, however, make a lot of teasing/witty remarks—they come easier to him than jokes do.

k= kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

his kisses are as gentle as his hand holding. for the first few months of your relationship, they’re feather light, no more than a quick peck. it’s not until some time passes that he gets more comfortable with it.

l= love (how do they show they love you?)

words of affirmation and quality time. he spends all of his free time with you, even when you don’t have any plans for the day. he’s happy to just do nothing with you. he also compliments you a lot, tells you you look pretty and that you’re all he could’ve ever asked for.

besides that, he enjoys drawing you, if you don’t mind it. he considers you the perfect muse; you’re both pretty and motivating.

m= memory (favorite memory together?)

the first time you watched the sunset with him. it’d been completely unplanned; you just happened to see him sitting his porch on your way home. you joined him, because it was starting to get dark and you didn’t want to be all alone. when you weren’t looking, he stole glances at you—somehow you were even prettier than the orange hues of the sky. he knew he loved you then. he’d always known deep down, but that day he knew for sure.

n= nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

he’s afraid of losing you, as cliché as it sounds. you’re one of the few sources of stability in his life, and he’s not quite sure what he would do without you.

o= oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

he’s prone to spacing out at random times, since he can get lost in his thoughts quite easily. he’ll be reading to you one moment and pondering the meaning of life the next—you end up being responsible for bringing him back to reality more often than you’d like to.

p= pet names (what do they like to call you?)

he uses darling, my love, and babe sometimes. he usually just calls you by your name; there’s something strangely intimate about it.

q= quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

he doesn’t care what you’re doing, as long as you’re together. with that said, he especially enjoys hanging out at the dingo and reading with/to you.

r= rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

dream lover by bobby darin. the lyrics remind you of his tendency to daydream, as well as the emotions he harbors towards you. it also just sounds like a song he’d enjoy.

s= secrets (how open are they with you?)

he’s pretty open, albeit sometimes unintentionally. you get him talking like no other and once he starts he can’t stop. there’s certain things he’ll be more adamant about sharing, but he’ll ultimately do it anyway.

t = time (how long did it take you to get together?)

about 5-6 months. he knew he loved you long before then, he just wanted to make sure you reciprocated before acting upon his feelings.

u = upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

if you prefer to be alone when you’re frustrated, he’ll let you be. he might get a little sad that you don’t want him near, but he understands it’s nothing personal. he’ll check up on you once you’ve calmed down, keep his distance until you give him the green flag.

if you like to have someone with you, he won’t abandon your side no matter what. he’ll let you rant about your day and run his hands through your hair, something he deems to be soothing.

v = vaunt (what are they proud of? do they like to show you off?)

he doesn’t see any need to show you off. he’s proud of the relationship you’ve formed together more than he is of anything else, he’s just not that type of person.

w = warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

he doesn’t like to see you hurt, so he doesn’t always like it when you fight. he’s more than willing to fight for you and/or with you. so long as you’re not all roughed up afterwards.

x = x-ray (how well are they able to read you?)

he can tell how you’re feeling pretty quickly; he spends so much time with you he knows what all of your emotions look and sound like.

y = yes (how would they propose to you?)

he would likely do a more quiet proposal, something private with only the two of you. he wants the moment to be yours and yours only—no noisy friends, no overbearing family.

he’d take you to a pretty spot—a grassy field with flowers, or something along those lines—and bring some of your favorite foods for you to enjoy as you admire the view. then, when the nerves get the best of him, he’ll pull out the small velvet box in his pocket and ask the big question.

z = zen (what makes them feel calm?)

quiet moments spent with you. reading together, helping each other with homework, watching the stars at the lot. it’s not often you two get to be alone, so he cherishes the few times you can be.

[signanothername]

Sooo... I'm back from the dead after dying from the overflow of too many positive emotions yesterday... (thanks for all the kind words 🩷)

And I'm back with another ask! Cool.

My question is not something necessarily related to the topic of the blog or anything, but rather about your artistic process?

So, personally I think many artists have those moments, or maybe specific paintings, that may just be emotionally draining. Like you're drawing a piece, and you don't like it for some reason, you try to change it, but you still don't like the painting, and you keep trying, but it's just something that's missing and you don't understand what it is and it just becomes frustrating and you start to get angry and-

Well, at least I seem to have such moments quite often (I dunno, maybe I'm just a perfectionist), and as far as I'm concerned different artists have their different ways to cope with this, so I wonder - do you have such moments sometimes and what do you usually do about it?

I'm sorry for the long ask I just can't keep things short and I'm just always curious about such things and the way different artists do stuff 😅

Hello!! Amazing to see you again! <33333 (of course!! Thank you for your kind words as well aaahh 😭❤️✨����)

As for your question, oooh boi, yes actually I have these moments A LOT, it’s cause i’m a perfectionist myself jdhdhdh

In fact, these kinda moments is why i sometimes give up on certain artworks or comics I make, and that’s why my wips just always seem to pile up, here are some examples of two artworks and a page of a comic I gave up on cause I just couldn’t for the life of me make them into what I wanted

And I will be lying to you if I said I have a solution for it or that I know how to deal with it

But I deal with it in two ways, I either completely delete the sketch i made and start over again

Or what I usually do is that I actually stop if i find the piece I’m working on emotionally draining, let go of the artwork and work on something else that i find fun, cause “giving up” doesn’t necessarily mean i will never get back to them, I see it as “taking a break” from the artwork till I get inspiration or motivation back to work on it again

Generally I’ve learned that in art, it’s ok to take things slow, I don’t always need to finish the artwork that I started before I start working on something else, in fact, taking things slow is how I made art much more enjoyable to me, cause it means I actually enjoy the process instead of treating it like there’s some sort of deadline above my head

To give you an example of what i mean, this artwork right here? Took me over 2 weeks to finish, not cause i couldn’t finish it quickly (in fact i can easily finish the same artwork in less than an hour) I just taught myself to take my time when making art, take things slow snd enjoy the process bit by bit, i worked on the quick sketch, closed it, then got back to it to work on cleaning it up multiple times, closed it again, then worked on coloring it and so on

And that’s also how i deal with artworks that make me frustrated, i take things slow, if i get frustrated then i simply close the artwork and work on something else till i have the motivation to work on what frustrated me again, that way i took a little break, and sometimes actually while working on something else you might get an idea on how to fix the artwork that frustrated you, but ultimately art is supposed to be fun not frustrating, so it’s ok not to finish artworks, it’s ok to abandon artworks if you don’t like them or if they emotionally drain you

That’s how i deal with it at least, but i say try to find your own path to how to deal with it, cause my way might not work for you, so i say experiment and find out :D

And nah don’t apologize i love long asks actually dychchch

[mspopstar]

Welcome to the MS Pop Star Ask Blog!

This is a ask blog for the various titular characters of Dream Land in a loose yet-simple mspaint style.

“The setting takes place in a continuous consistent 'after' the most recent game release. This setting takes place in a modified mix of the Game-verse and Novel-verse. Almost everyone from the games are here to answer questuons and by everyone, I mean everyone. (i.e. Galacta Knight and President Max Profit Haltmann) The dead are now alive, though possibly not well. Not necessarily in Dream Land though. So come, come and send some asks to this 923kb land!”

Keep Reading For More Information

Questions will be answered directly by a character while others will be treated as a prompt. Note, this askblog is more gag-ish in nature than anything so not everything depicted is my honest and true interpretation and head-canon of a character or thing. A lot of it has exaggerations for the sake of humor.

Rules

Please be sure to follow these!

Please keep your questions Kirby related unless it's a direct question to the mod of this here ask blog.

No NSFW or gore related questions. There may be violence depicted on this blog but it will never be anything serious. NSFW will never be allowed on this blog. Even if shipping comes into play or if you direct the question at a adult character such as Meta Knight, Kirby, Susie, or Taranza.

I do not have intentions to have pairings be apart of the general universe at the current moment. While shipping isn't forbidden on this blog, please do not get your hopes up for certain pairings to appear or get upset if a pairing you dislike does appear. Shipping will be a option once I've reach enough asks answered and even then, it will be a poll whether such content will even occur on this blog.

No spamming. If you ask a question once, only ask it once. If you spam a question it will not be answered and I will delete it.

Please be patient! I made this blog out of my love of Kirby, to creatively think more, and to draw more often for myself and others! I may not get to every question as quick as you'd like.

No OC related asks. This is a mostly canon focused blog. I also worry about accidentally portraying an OC incorrectly and offending others because of it so I want to put it out there I do not accept asks with OCs in them. If you want a specific interaction and want to actively interact with the characters yourself, such asks will be done using "Anon Waddle Dee".

Any and all images on this blog are free to share and use for non-commercial purposes. Meaning, it's fine to share this art, use it, if you want to put my art on a shirt for personal use that is fine too!

If you have any questions, concerns, or you just want to chat please go shoot me a message at @capicola323427

META AND WORLD-BUILDING INFORMATION

This is just general information about the ask blog's universe! This can update so check back every now and then!

Pop Star and other planets are interconnected in various ways for communication and importing/exporting of goods, through differing levels of technology and means.

Some planets are barren and underdeveloped, such as Planet Floria. Other planets are booming giga-cities like Planet Mecheye.

Technological developments depend on the planet and what is imported from other planets, however, Pop Star generally technology up to a rudimentary working internet but not everyone uses it.

"World Ending" characters like Dark Matter or Fecto Elfilis are able to be asked asks, but it isn't like they're free to walk about. Like Zero & Dark Matter are biding time in the recesses of a barren planet on the outskirts of Gamble Galaxy! I will try my best to create a reasonable explanation for those sorts of things if asked, so please be patient!

Not every character is at Pop Star, Dream Land!

[atinylittlepain]

Of Saints and Sinners - Chapter 7

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ SMUT (yeehaw), angst, canon-typical violence

a/n | happy TLOU night, y'all :) at long last, Joel fucks, but not until after some serious angst

It’s been two weeks since she first came over to listen to records. Since Joel finally made a fool of himself for her. She spent the night with Joel, after that shared moment, just holding onto each other, talking. She’s spent the night every day since, listening to music, lazily kissing like teenagers. Joel’s learning how to talk to her, draw her out, without pressing too hard to the point she shuts down. He doesn’t ask about the childcare center, though he hears from Maria that she’s been visiting daily. He doesn’t ask anything about Steve or Alex, or her time in Seattle. She likes to talk about Ellie, whom she’s grown pretty fond of, and they can trade stories about the girl. He lets her ask a lot of questions about him and he does his best to be open, even telling her about Sarah. And if all else fails, Joel’s figured out that she can talk about music until she’s blue in the face. 

She’s been turning up around the same time every night, dusk settling in. She’s still strangely polite, knocking lightly on the door, even though Joel has started unlocking it right around sunset for her, told her to just come in. When he opens the door to her, she’s always got this worried look, a warbly smile and furrowed brows, like she’s questioning if she’s still welcome. It’s no different tonight. Joel easily pulls her in by her wrist, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her in tight. She’s quick to slip out of his hold though, and Joel can see that worried look is still on her face.

“Don’t even ask me,” Joel speaks first, before she can needle at him.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” she huffs, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest.

“You were gonna ask me if I’d talk to Tommy about getting you back on shifts. The answer is still no.” Steve’s been doggedly working to keep her off of patrol and Joel can see that she’s getting restless, the last two nights asking him if he’d talk to his brother about getting her back on the schedule. 

“I’ve been back for almost a month, I feel fine, all the bruising is practically gone, but everyone’s treating me like I’m fucking broken or something.” 

“You’re not broken. We’re trying to keep you safe.” She scoffs, “I don’t need to be looked after like a child. I can handle myself perfectly fine, I was handling myself perfectly fine. I just… slipped.” 

“So why risk slipping again? There’s plenty— “ Her eyes flash at Joel and she’s instantly up in his space again. “Do not tell me there’s plenty of work around town when you know that’s not what this is about.” He huffs, stepping back and dragging a heavy hand down his face.

“No, of course not. It’s about some sick pride you have in constantly putting yourself in danger. People love a martyr, right? And you’re more than happy to give them one. Pfft, you worried people are gonna stop calling you the saint? Is that what it is? Some sort of self-righteous bullshit?” She swallows hard, getting small, and Joel realizes too late he let his frustration push too far. He goes to reach for her, but she shuffles back, bumping into the banister at the foot of the stairs. She keeps her gaze on the floor as she speaks.

“I didn’t ask for that, any of it. I did what I’m good at, tolerating danger, pain, risk. That’s what I’m good at. I don’t give a fuck what sorta meaning people give it. That’s not my business. But don’t you ever suggest that what I do is done for pride because lord knows I haven’t got any.” Joel’s come to find that she doesn’t really cry, her voice gets a little shake to it and her eyes get watery, but that’s it, no tears fall. That’s the state he sees her in as she says this to him, harshly scrubbing at her nose afterwards.

Joel opens and closes his mouth a few times, drowning in what he wants to say. Before he can get anything out, she sighs, “Think I should probably just go home.” 

“Oh, right, because god forbid anyone push you even a little bit. You act so tough, but really if someone so much as looks at you the wrong way you wilt. What you said? About being good at tolerating pain? That’s bullshit. You ain’t as tough as you think you are, darlin. You’re just real good at running.” The frustration in Joel has snapped, and now it’s all just racing loose in him. He knows he’s going to regret what he just said, but right now, all he feels is relief in telling her how he sees it. She shoves at his chest, a hard push that makes him stumble back.

“Fuck you, Miller. Stay the fuck away from me.” She cuts towards the front door, Joel still too stunned by her seething anger to do anything but watch her slam it behind her.

Joel lets out a ragged exhale. What the hell just happened? He knows what he said came out all wrong, but he also knows there’s some truth to it. He was walking on eggshells around her, worried he’d bring up the wrong thing and she’d spook. It seems like it finally happened, he pushed too hard and she bolted. He had been open with her, was it so wrong to expect the same thing in return? 

Joel doesn’t sleep that night. When Ellie comes home later, she finds him, sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands.

“You messed up, didn’t you?” She’s smirking at him. “Is it that obvious?” 

“You’re looking pretty pathetic, old man. That and I saw her shooting darts with Steve at the bar. She only does that when she’s really pissed.” He huffs at that, standing up with a groan.

“Got any advice, genius?” Ellie shrugs, “not really, just don’t let her stay mad at you too long. If she doesn’t like you anymore she might stop spending time with me.” She’s already shuffling off to the garage as Joel mutters “gee, thanks.” 

…

Things go back to how they were before, and Joel is embarrassed to admit how agonizing it’s been. He only got close to her for a blink of time, but it was enough that her absence feels like a physical wound. He goes out on patrol, and goes straight home most days. She left her albums at his house, and he listens to them all night, even though he doesn’t like either of them at all. He can picture her listening to them, that content look she’d settle into, and sometimes it’s enough peace to send him to sleep.

Ellie tells him that she’s back on patrol shifts with Alex. No raids anymore though. He supposes that’s her idea of compromise.

Finally, after two weeks of what Ellie has been referring to as his “recluse routine,” Joel is coaxed out to the bar by his brother. There’s a small group formed around Roger, that young man Joel had started taking shifts with previously. The town was in a bit of a stir, heard that Roger had handled a proper hoard of clickers that morning up at the dam. Watching Roger, Joel thought to himself that the kid was acting a little too big for his breeches, regaling his audience with his over-dramatized kills. He also saw her, throwing darts in the back with Steve. Joel did his best not to look at her too long. Johnny Cash was playing tonight.

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine

I keep my eyes wide open all the time

I keep the ends out for the tie that bands

Because you’re mine, I walk the line…

Joel’s only partly engaged in the conversation he’s having with Tommy, keeping an ear to Roger’s musings.

“You know, I think we’re all capable of killing, really, when it comes down to it. It just gets drawn out of us by different things. I think for most it’s purely a matter of survival. When it comes down to life or death, I think we’d all kill.” Joel watches her and Steve pass off the darts to another pair, sitting down at a table in the back. Both seem keenly interested in what Roger’s spouting off, sipping idly from their glasses.

I find it very, very easy to be true

I find myself alone when each day’s through

Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you

Because you’re mine, I walk the line…

“Now, don’t get me wrong, there are other folks that it doesn’t take much to get them to kill. Loose cannons.” She’s getting up to leave, squeezing Steve’s shoulder before starting to push through the crowd. 

As sure as night is dark and day is light

I keep you on my mind both day and night

And happiness I've known proves that it's right

Because you're mine, I walk the line…

“Take the saint, for example. Now, if you ask me, that one’s got a dark streak in her. I don’t care how holy you folks think she is. I’m telling you, that girl’s got a few screws loose.” Joel’s already on his feet, ready to shut Roger up himself, but she beats him to it, spinning on her heel where she stands and walking back to his table. Everyone parts for her and she hoists him up by the collar, punching him square in the jaw. Roger falls to the ground and she’s on him in a flash, jostling him by his shirt.

“You better watch who you talk about Roger, those loose cannons are prone to friendly fire.” She stands abruptly, briefly catching Joel’s gaze before shoving out of the bar.

Joel looks to Steve, “you gonna go check on that?” The young man shrugs, taking a swig of his drink, “don’t see the problem, she handled it. No use talking to her when she’s mad.”

Joel huffs, shouldering his way out of the crowd and into the cooling night. He finds her out back of the bar, leaning against the wall, head tipped back with her chin jutted at the sky.

She glances at him as he nears, sighing.

“Busted my fucking hand on that asshole’s face.” Joel snorts at this, “He had it coming, way he was running his mouth.” She scoffs, “gonna be the talk of the town tomorrow.”

Joel presses his back against the wall next to her, their shoulders brushing. He grasps her wrist, pulling her hand up to study the damage across her knuckles.

“Why don’t you come with me, get this cleaned up?” She nods mutely and lets Joel lead her back to his house. 

They’re in his bathroom. Joel has her sit on the edge of the sink as he stands between her legs, daubing a washcloth at her bloodied knuckles. She’s keeping her focus on her hand, not glancing up at him.

“How have you been?” He pauses, lets out a humorless chuckle, “you’re asking how I’ve been?” She just shrugs, “haven’t seen you around.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Joel murmurs, getting ready to wrap some gauze around her knuckles. She sighs, bringing her hand over his.

“I need to apologize, Joel. For how I reacted that night.” He stops his ministrations, flipping his palm to let their hands entwine. “I’m sorry too. Shouldn’t have said all that, let my frustration get to me.” She shakes her head, looking up at him.

“No. What you said. It hurt. But it had some truth. I am good at running. I’m always running. From everything, everyone.” She lets out a shaky exhale, “but I don’t wanna run anymore, not from you, if you’ll still have me.” Joel feels his shoulders slacken, not even realizing the tension that had been simmering in them. He swallows thickly.

“Don’t even gotta ask. Even if you did have a few screws loose like Roger said, I’d still have you, darlin.” She laughs wetly at that, and Joel didn’t realize how badly he wanted to hear that sound again. 

They fall into a simpering silence as he finishes wrapping her hand. When he’s finished, he rests both his palms over the tops of her thighs, giving a light squeeze before stepping back to let her hop down from the sink. She brings her hand to the side of his neck, thumb brushing the curve of his jaw as she draws him down to a fluttering kiss. She whispers a thank you before taking his hand, drawing him out into his bedroom. Joel feels like he’s in a hazy dream as she gently presses him to sit on the end of his bed, standing in front of him.

Joel’s breath hitches as he watches her start to work at the buttons of her shirt. She keeps her gaze fixed to his, and he doesn’t dare look away, only catching glimpses of skin in the periphery as she reaches the last few buttons. And she finally slips the shirt down her shoulders, letting it fall around her feet, and Joel’s heart is hammering so hard he thinks she can hear it. She’s smiling and Joel can see the nerves jumping in the corners of her eyes, her lips, as she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms until the fabric falls to the floor as well. Suddenly, Joel is painfully aware of the fact that it’s been a long time since he’s seen a naked woman. His hands are shaking where they’re balled in the bedsheets, and he has to remember how to breathe for a second. 

She steps forward, gently grabbing his wrists to pull him up with her. She guides his palms to splay across her stomach, fingers curling around her waist. He can feel the push and pull of her breath, the way it’s catching on each inhale. Slowly, he lets his hands wander, mapping the curve of her sides, grazing over her ribs, flickering over the birds tattooed below her collarbone. He drags his fingertips across her shoulders, down her arms until he tentatively circles behind her. He takes in the expanse of her back and can feel how she tenses under his gaze. The scars that he remembers glimpsing are there, both heartbreaking and breathtaking in the endurance they suggest. Joel drops his head, letting his lips drag across the tops of her shoulder blades, the hilt of her neck, from one shoulder across to the other, murmuring the word “beautiful” like a prayer into her skin. She draws in a ragged breath before turning in his hold, pulling him in by his neck until they meet in a hot tangle of tongues and teeth. The way she licks into his mouth draws a low groan from Joel’s throat, wrapping his arms around her to pull her in deeper. She draws away for a moment, fumbling with the hem of his shirt before he’s quick enough to yank it over his head by the collar. When they pull back together they’re pressed skin to skin in a way Joel thinks he could become addicted to. He walks her back until they both stumble onto the sheets, huffing with the awkward shifting and tangling of limbs before they’re meeting each other again, dragging desperate kisses. 

She lets her nails graze down his torso before settling on his belt. Joel pulls back when he hears the metal clinking as she undoes it. Her eyes are blown wide as she looks him over.

“Is this ok?” Joel can barely get an answer out, just grunting an “mm-hmm” and then she’s smiling as she pops the button of his jeans, moving her hand through the thatch of curls there before taking him in the softness of her palm. He lets out a broken moan, head falling into the crook of her neck where he starts to leave bruising kisses that make her gasp his name. She’s stroking him as best she can in the confines of his boxers and he’s letting the most pathetic whimpers ride from the back of his throat. He grasps her wrist, drawing her hand to rest by the side of her head. 

“Too much?” He breathes a laugh, “just don’t want it to be over too soon.” She smiles, craning her neck to peck the corner of his mouth. He presses back so he’s kneeling between her legs, drawing his palms down the sides of her torso until settling at the waist of her pants. He looks to her and she nods, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, hiding the quirk of her lips. His hands are shaking again as he unzips her pants, whispering a hoarse “hips up, darlin” as he slides them down her legs, shuffling back so he can get them all the way off. Joel’s mouth goes slack. She’s left before him, bare, save for a pair of plain cotton underwear. He leans back in before he can think too hard about this being the prettiest sight he’s ever seen, resting his elbow beside her head before meeting her for another drawn kiss. He lets his other hand wander down the center of her chest, fingertips grazing over her peaked nipple before sliding further down the dip and swell of her stomach, finally slipping under the band of her underwear. He swipes through her folds, drawing the wetness pooling there to slide over her clit, and she preens, stretching out her neck and pressing her head back into the sheets. Joel rests his chin on her sternum, watching how her brow furrows, the little whines he can draw out of her with how he moves his fingers through her. 

“So wet, baby. It’s all for me?” She gasps as he slips one finger into her curling it just so. “Yes, Joel. It’s all you. All for you.” He grins big at that, pressing another finger into her, knees feeling a little weak at the stretch, the tightness. He lets his mouth smear across her chest, head dipping to take one of her nipples into his mouth, grazing her with his teeth. The noise that draws from her, from the back of her throat, makes his cock pulse.

He can feel her getting tighter around his fingers as he brings his thumb to swipe over her clit. “I want you to come for me, baby. Can you do that? Come undone for me?” She nods hard, gasping as he continues to thrust into her, eyes scrunched shut.

“Yes I wanna come for you– please don’t stop– p-please don’t stop,” her one arm has come to wrap around Joel’s back, nails digging into muscle. 

“Open your eyes for me, baby. Wanna see you when you come. Let me see you, darlin,” her eyes blow wide, staring up at Joel as he dips down to kiss her. And then she’s pulling away, letting out a broken cry and Joel can feel how she flutters around his fingers. He works her through her high, pulling away only when she starts to squirm. Her eyes are bleary, chest heaving as she cards her fingers through his hair. He leaves kisses along her jaw, her cheeks, before settling for a firm peck at her lips. She smiles up at him.

“I wanna feel you. I want you.” His head spins at her words. He leaves one more kiss on her lips before slowly standing, shedding his jeans and boxers in one sweep, finally aware of just how painfully hard he is. She shimmies her underwear off her legs before sitting back on her elbows, feet planted on the mattress with her knees bent wide as she watches him stroke himself a few times. The image is obscene. The image is divine. He kneels back between her legs, drawing her ankles to wrap loosely at his low back while he hovers over her. Her hands fall at his shoulders, one reaching up into the back of his hair, scratching lightly. He slides his cock through her wetness, both of them breathing ragged, trembling. He slowly starts to press into her and she gasps, a broken whimper in her throat. Joel stills.

“Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, looking up at him with watery eyes, “just need it slow. Been a long time.” He nods, pecking her temple before tentatively starting to press further in, drawing gasps out of her with each experimental thrust. How he hasn’t come already is beyond him, the way she’s throbbing around him. Their hips finally meet and she lets out a sharp sigh, pulling him down to wrap her arms fully around him.

“Need a minute like this.” He nods into her neck, leaving light kisses across her collarbone. Her grip on his neck slowly loosens and he presses up to gaze at her. She nods, letting him know he can move. Joel groans as he pulls out, letting his hips roll back into hers, keeping his pace slow and drawn out. She’s a vision beneath him, flushed and preening, little pants of his name as he finds a steady rhythm to push and pull them to. 

He reckons that nothing has ever felt like this before, so terrifyingly right. He dips back down, keeping her close, chests brushing with each thrust, limbs tangled and slick with sweat, lips swallowing each other's sighs.

Pleasure is pulling taut at the base of his spine, his pace starting to falter. “‘M sorry, baby, gettin close. Need you to come for me. Need to feel you, darlin.” His voice is thick, whatever’s left of his Texan accent rolling deeply now, making his words feel like molasses in his mouth. She grips the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing a low groan from him as she nods desperately, “gonna come for you, Joel. Please– make me come.” He brings his hand back to her clit, a firm and fierce pressure that makes her clench around him. His eyes roll back at the sensation, and he can vaguely hear himself muttering please, please, please into her sternum, feeling himself teetering at the edge of release. She gasps his name when she comes undone and it takes all his strength for him to pull out, stroking himself a few times before he’s releasing over the soft planes of her stomach. They’re both breathing hard as they come down, Joel shifts to the side, laying down beside her. 

“Get you cleaned up in a minute. Just– need to not move– for a little while.” She laughs at that, throwing a forearm over her eyes before glancing over at Joel. He feels like he’s died and come back, white noise behind his eyes, heart still racing.

He finally starts to calm down, turning his head to look at her, being met with her very smug appraisal of him. “Thought you might be done for, Miller.” He scoffs, rolling over to stand up and walk around to her side of the bed, pulling her up by her hands. “Can you blame me?” She blushes at that and he dips his head to give her a brief kiss before leading her back into the bathroom.

They shower together, both touching the other like they might break. She still flinches when his hands pass over her scars, but she’s also starting to soften. Joel has never felt anything as gentle as when she washes his hair for him, letting her guide his head back into the stream of water. All clean, he gives her one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers to sleep in. They slip into the sheets and she rests her head on his bare chest, right above his heart. He reckons it’s all hers anyways. He lets his fingers idly brush along her arm. She clears her throat.

“I-I’m gonna try– to let you in. And I’m probably gonna do a shit job at it. But I’m gonna try.” Joel pauses, holding his breath, before he dips slightly to press a kiss into her hair. Words fail him, so he settles for holding her a little tighter and bringing his hand down to entangle with hers giving a firm squeeze that she reciprocates. 

Both of them sleep soundly, wrapped up in each other. A silent understanding settles between them in the still of the night.

[ladythornofrivia]

The Imperfection of Sound

In a world of sound, reader is deaf. Until she meets Ran Haitani, who shows her that life is more than just hoping for a miracle.

Pair: Ran x Reader

Warnings: Mature Content, Inappropriate Moments and Adult Language. (if you’re under 18, you can’t read this). Spice. (Spice is nice 😏😎😉)

Author’s Note: For those who are sad from reading the last chapter—I’m sorry. Enjoy this chapter.

(Please report if someone decides to steal/plagiarize my story. And notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter 4: Heavenly

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Ran felt sick throughout the night. He couldn’t bear himself to stay awake, so fell asleep after drinking hot chocolate with chewy marshmallows. He cleansed himself in a lazy fashion—just unbraided his two braids and cleansed his face, brushed his teeth. Then for his outfit, he tossed it aside into the laundry basket for a clean pair of black boxers and loose grey-blue shirt.

He looked up at the mirror, the dark circles under his eyes were deeply outlined and shaded.

If only I’ve been straightforward with her like I did with the others. How I treated others. What made me hold back in the first place? Was I afraid over my confidence? Doubtful? I wish she could tell me. Damn, I hate miscommunication. I didn’t think she’d jump into conclusions. But then, all girls are self-conscious once they see something that makes them uncomfortable. If only I said, “I like you, (y/n), please be my girlfriend.” Everything would’ve been so much easier. I used to be careless of what I said, still sure of myself. What the hell happened to me? I should get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new chance.

Then Ran tucked himself into cold sheets, easing his anxious thoughts roaming. He breathed in…one, two…

Three.

Darkness enveloped him.

•••••

A suckling noise drained into his ears while dainty fingers slipped into up and down motions, kissing noises planted on him.

His throat grumbled, his back hand rubbed his eyes, forcing himself awake to someone straddling him on the bed. With a quick action, his eyes open at his own blanket, formed like a huge tent. When he grabbed the clouded bed sheets, it unveiled a girl. Not just any girl. It was you, pleasuring his long cock with your hungry and pretty mouth. Your hand is dainty compare to his thick girth, sliding in up and down motion still while your lips kissed the tip of his cock, as if French kissing it. The white leak coated on your tongue. Your eyes gazed at him with desire, not the innocent kind, despite your eyes try to claim as one.

“Such a naughty girl,” Ran said with a faint smirk. The widened pupils on his violet eyes relaxed. “Go on, princess, I want you feel my cock in your mouth.”

His hips thrust on your mouth, receiving a low moan droning from you, as you kept sucking his stiff cock, humming.

Usually, Ran met a couple of girls outside of the club. One thing in common girls liked to do is to be seductive towards him, with low hums and subtle touches here and there.

With a final shove into your hungry mouth, his hot semen spurted and drained passed through your throat. As he pulled it out, you swallowed every last liquid. Instantly, he grabbed and pulled you, sharing a deep languid kisses with him. His hand rested at the back of your head as he shoved his tongue against yours. Languid kisses became more lively and desperate—faster and hungrier.

Automatically you plunged his hardened cock into your wet folds, grinding fast as you could, then pounding your ass each time you came down from riding his cock, your lips parted, drawing a loud moan as your head threw back. With a rosy blush on your cheeks, your eyes looked at him with pleasure, you tossed your long hair, riding him faster, moaning desperately.

Ran’s hands groped your breasts, pinching your nipples, as he watched you moaned louder than the last. Your flush skin and face, skin to skin, with yours and his, everything is perfect.

Heavenly.

If only I could tell her how beautiful she sounded.

His arms pulled your upper body down to meet his lips once more, shares deep kisses.

He flipped you over, laying on your backside, as he unsheathed his cock and licked your clit. Nipping them, your hand made its way onto Ran, grinding your pussy until you squirted.

Pulling away, seeing the mess you created on his bed from your wet pussy—your clit is puffed, numbed from Ran’s nipping and licking. Hurriedly, Ran your legs, wedging his cock into your cunt once more, his hands wrapped your legs around his waist as he cradled your head, pressing his lips against your forehead, then tracing his lips down to your jawline, neck then collarbone, then bringing it back up to your lips before heading out to the wide, marbled balcony after unlocking his the sliding door with one hand. With the heaviness of his cock still inside you, each time he moved, the walls in your cu t clutched tighter.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, kissing your forehead before he thrusted, which resulted you screaming with ecstasy on top of your lungs, tears spilling out from your face as you locked your grip behind his neck as you felt your body bouncing from his cock shoving and bruising your walls, immediately immersed, and the arousal grew stronger.

He quickly untangled your legs as you faced toward the high-end view of Roppongi, bent forward as the side of your face pinned down on the wide marble railing as he railed harder. As his pacing went sloppier, yet harsher, he tugged you back, your back pressed against his chest as his lips pressed against your cheek lovingly, whispering, “You like that? You’re so fucking cute when you look like this. People in Roppongi would see how fucking beautiful you are…how your tight cunt is fucking good—your gorgeous body, gorgeous lips, your seductive moans…all hot and hungry for me…if you ever get a chance to get pregnant, I’d still fuck you to oblivion, my little goddess. I love you (y/n)—I love you.”

The semen spurted in you as the last of your arousing screams pierced into his ears before—

•••••

Ran lunged his body forward, covered in drooping sweat. It was still dark—at midnight. He hasn’t gotten any sleep since he last saw you. It was all a big misunderstanding. The girl he randomly clashed with was the birthday girl Rindou mentioned. She wanted to inquired Ran where he was at that night, as Ran tried his best to be civil. He wanted to meet you, by the building where you and him first met—overly self-assured and suave. But with you, his charm dissipated, as if he has forgotten how.

He’s bewitched by your queenly spell.

He kept reading the old messages over and over, the times where he and his heart elated by you, having selfie pictures together and random jokes you guys shared—and inside jokes that you two could only decipher.

But everything seems broken. He couldn’t look at it anymore. He didn’t want to be sober—filled with despair at a new darkened day.

I wish she could answer me. I want to make things right, but I don’t know how.

The birthday girl professed she wanted Ran as her birthday present. Meaning, she offered her virginity to him since her ex broke up with her due to business and education.

As much as Ran politely declined, she still kept pursuing for his attention and affection. He tried not to be obvious to push her away but rather grabbed her by the shoulders to halt her, and that’s where he saw you, your eyes are all but a fatal mourning and betrayal. And now Ran tries in anyway he can to message you, but no answer. He wanted to explain, he’s going to explain, but the outcome was as horrible. How will be able to reach you now?

Just as he was about to contact one of the Tenjiku members to search you, a long outline of hardened cock protruded from his bed blankets.

He wished that everything in his heavenly dream was real.

In the meantime, he has to find a way to mend your heart and pull you back into his world, as you delve into his once and for all.

Taglist: @galactict3a @mrssano04 @penguinlovestowrite @akemiixx01 @f1yh1gh @onyx-blossom @goldenbeskar @sehunnies-hunnie96 @colored-tr-panels

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Still Subject to Change Epilogue

——————————————————————————-

Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

——————————————————————————

Continuing to stand here wouldn’t make that any better.

“Yeah, you are right, I’d better bring these to him, hey you wanna try planting one too?”

I separated about five of the plants and held them towards him as he nodded. 

He gently took them and started putting his tools away.

“Well, i’ll be off then, good luck with the plants and see you later”

He waved and put a few more stones around the perimeter of the garden before continuing to put his stuff back in the toolbox he got from Barsen.

Speaking of Barsen, where was he anyway?

While he had the habit of finding everything in the Garden it was a nightmare to search for him as he sometimes just disappeared into the greenery.

Well, I still didn’t want these to wilt so I’d better find him.

Going methodical might be best here, so I would go back and see if he was near the rock anywhere.

He’d been there last i saw him, and it was likely he’d go back there to collect the plants he asked for.

And I hoped that at this point he finally went to get the wheelbarrow repaired.

Ducking under a branch back into the unobstructed space next to the rock I could see him, so I had been right.

He did come back to collect the plants he asked for, and this time he was not carrying a wheelbarrow on his shoulders.

He turned to face me before i could draw any attention to myself, Once again a bit eerie but he was the gardener and probably knew what made the different sounds in the underbrush.

He smiled when he saw me and the bluebells I was carrying with me and I gently passed them along when I reached him, but instead of once again disappearing like he did so often he looked at me with a serious face.

Uh oh, did I do something wrong?

Did I step on some prized plant as an Ardua?

But it appeared that I was wrong in that aspect.

“There is someone in the main hall that knows your name, your entire name, and he asked to speak to you.

He’s waiting somewhere in front of the throne for you, you better hurry i have no idea how long he’ll actually wait”

Someone that knew my name? My full name at that?

The only ones who I had told that were Robin, Arthur and Rikaad.

So who the fuck waltzed in here with the knowledge of my name?

Well, there was only one way to find out, and I couldn’t deny that I was curious as to who this person was.

And also ask how they knew my name, because that was very weird.

I knew I had not told anyone my name as there really wasn’t much opportunity to since Fae blooded people were basically hunted for sport.

Maybe it was an estranged uncle or something?

After all, claiming to be related to a Fae Bastard was not something people would have freely admitted just a month ago.

Still wouldn’t really.

But if the guy wanted to freeload on the fact that i lived in the castle i would tell him to fuck off.

I now had people that liked me for who I was and not because I was rich or whatever.

I wasn’t even rich either, the only thing I got here was shelter and the occasional sweet treat from the kitchen.

Well, feeding something the size of an Ardua would get fucking expensive really quick so it was good that i could live off of sunlight.

But there were still things I could not resist, like cinnamon bread.

The loaves made by the Castle were really good though.

Speaking of Castle there it was, including the, at least in my opinion, stupidly oversized door.

So the guy that knew my name was in there, I briefly wondered what he would look like but since I was about to go see for myself that wasn’t necessary.

Going in I could see that the room was almost empty, safe for Norrin who was talking to Rikaad and a few other Guards in one of the corners.

And of course the man Barsen had said that he knew my full name.

He wasn’t facing me, he was facing the throne instead and I could see he was tall and had long off-white hair.

Since I couldn’t see his face I couldn’t tell how old he was, but he seemed to be fit, an archer perhaps? Or a dancer?

Maybe the off-white hair threw me out of the loop a bit.

But I could also tell that he was tall, very much so, taller than Rikaad even.

I’d guess he was at least six foot something and he was clad in a weirdly sewn green tunic that had leaves embroidered on the upper part of the sleeves and light beige pants with sturdy boots.

So that was the guy that knew my name and wanted to see me, Well, I’d better greet him then.

“Hello, are you the one that wanted to see me?”

The man turned around and suddenly I wished Barsen would have told me beforehand that this was an Elf, an actual one and not a Bastard.

His pointy ears were even longer than mine so there was no doubt about that, and now it made sense why he was so tall too.

The strangest thing about him however was that he was the palest person i had ever seen and possessed a pair of red eyes that looked like dull rubies.

An albino then, huh, but on top of that he looked eerily like one of those expensive porcelain dolls that Noble children sometimes had.

Something was off about him though, but I couldn’t say what, just an inherent sense that something was weird about him.

His movements were graceful, but seemed overly practiced and his face was like an emotionless mask even as he smiled.

A perfectly symmetrical smile that did not reach his eyes and seemed almost painted on with practice.

He opened his arms in what was probably meant to be a welcoming gesture but to me it still seemed strangely puppet like and practiced.

Then he spoke in a calm and melodious voice, still smiling that weird and a bit unnerving smile of his.

“Hello little Brother”

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

[munchmemes]

melanie martinez lyrics, portals edition

❛  my body has died but i'm still alive.  ❜

❛  your words mean nothin' so take 'em back.  ❜

❛  you're always on my mind, i cannot help it.  ❜

❛  i don't wanna be carrying the weight on my shoulders.  ❜

❛  death has come to me, kiss me on the cheek and gave me closure.  ❜

❛  i won't say goodbye, i'm right by your side.  ❜

❛  i'm back from the dead.  ❜

❛  i know it's morbid but we all die one day.  ❜

❛  there's rotten things left in me injected by society.  ❜

❛  i cannot bear my sorrow.  ❜

❛  i hate who i was before.  ❜

❛  i fear i won't live to see the day tomorrow.  ❜

❛  look at the mess i've done, there is nowhere to run.  ❜

❛  like a priest behind confession walls, i judge myself.  ❜

❛  my eyes are staring at me and they seem so damn unhappy.  ❜

❛  collect my fickle insecurities and turn them into beauty.  ❜

❛  yeah, you can look but you can't touch. i'm not just anybody.  ❜

❛  thought the cherry would be better than the pie, you're like that. that's your demise.  ❜

❛  it's obvious what you're after but i'm more than that.  ❜

❛  i saw that trick fall out your sleeve.  ❜

❛  you hum a tune i don't believe and it ain't working.  ❜

❛  crossing my heart, i'd rather die than be the needle in your eye.  ❜

❛  it could've been more, now we'll never know.  ❜

❛  i know how to make you go crazy every day.  ❜

❛  if you wanna run with the magic, lose sight of the gravity of home.  ❜

❛  i've been the boys and the girls and everyone in between.  ❜

❛  you are the light i've been searching for forever.  ❜

❛  my past grew mold around my heart.  ❜

❛  all my anger, sadness, regret disappeared. it's madness. ❜

❛  i'm not used to all this love, it's true. but you made me want to plan out my last days on earth.  ❜

❛  i was surprised to see heaven in your eyes.  ❜

❛  i never once was treated right.  ❜

❛  you're what i'm missing in my life.  ❜

❛  let's run into another dimension, you make me feel like i'm on drugs.  ❜

❛  i wish to not be perceived, i didn't ask for this dangerous visibility.  ❜

❛  i'm feeling too scared to sleep.  ❜

❛  i'm flexing like pricks with their stolen power.  ❜

❛  you're/they're feeding off our highs and lows. curious to see us struggle.  ❜

❛  the center may seem like a gift. once you arrive, it'll strip you of your life and you'll wish that you never did.  ❜

❛  how much blood can you draw with your claws from a flesh that's not yours?  ❜

❛  you used all your words for a quick game and blew it all before you won.  ❜

❛  they talk without thinking and they bark while they're shaking.  ❜

❛  i'll be silent 'til you cross the line.  ❜

❛  don't you battle with my larynx tonight.  ❜

❛  call all your guys in the dive bar, they'll give you the validation your daddy could never bestow you.  ❜

❛  i'm done doing backbends.  ❜

❛  you got me like a bad tattoo, always under skin even when it gets removed.  ❜

❛  i never got a chance to undo positions that you forced my way into.  ❜

❛  why you always act so serious?  ❜

❛  it's so scary how my aura got him howling at my moon cycle.  ❜

❛  i don't gotta act, i'm a theorist.  ❜

❛  i could win a fight on my period. matter of fact, right now, i could build a pyramid. you're messing with my cycle, that is dangerous.  ❜

❛  i won't lick your wounds today but i'll throw you in the ring, get you with my suffering.  ❜

❛  i'm not crazy, i'm not wild. you're just a stupid, little child.  ❜

❛  get your image off my back, i'll give you a heart attack.  ❜

❛  i will not suffer and cry under covers. i'm not your mother. ❜

❛  i won't be ashamed for loving you so honestly. ❜

❛  i used to miss your kiss. now i'm hop-skip jumpin' over narcissists. ❜

❛  i never knew what it meant to be content with you. ❜

❛  everything i expressed and professed, it never quite made it through. ❜

❛  they said it's all in my head whenever i spoke my truth. ❜

❛  no, i won't defend you to all my friends. this time, i refuse. ❜

❛  take it to the grave if you wanna play pretend. ❜

❛  i won't be mistreated, please call me conceited. ❜

❛  lovin' you was lethal, guess that makes me evil. ❜

❛  every time you tell a lie, i'm praying that you choke. ❜

❛  hope you never cope, hope you slip on soap. ❜

❛  not safe but i'm sound. ❜

❛  all of the planning yet i still feel unprepared. ❜

[aquaticpal]

WIP Wednesday - Chrysalis

So the other day I promised to share something related to this post 🙂 This is a random OoT idea that popped up a few weeks ago, and I managed to nurse it into a full-blown comic script (thanks @aegon-targaryen for listening to my blabs). Now, I have a buuuunnnch of things to do before I have anywhere near the time to draw such a lengthy comic, so it's going to sit in this script form for a long time maybe forever. Still, I wanted to put it out here so that it at least exists in this form 😌

Chrysalis

Rating: G Word count: ~2000 Tags: canon divergence, fix-it fic, healing, let's pretend this is an AU where uhhh Navi doesn't exist

[desert sand dunes - night, around a campfire]

"Hahhh... Sheik, you saved me again..."

"A couple pieces of bread and dried meat was all it took, and you went traipsing across the desert without even that?"

"I had them! It just... didn't last as long as I thought...!

I used to stay out all night in the forest and got by fine just picking a few berries... dunno what happened..."

"You have a body twice the size to feed now. Idiot." "Oh... yeah..."

"Aren't you gonna have some, Sheik? (I feel weird eating by myself...)"

"I ate earlier. No need." "Pff, I know you're just trying to avoid taking down your mask, right? (It's fine, I get it)"

"My hands are occupied."

[Link stretches out under the wide, endlessly vast desert sky, full of stars]

"Thanks for the music. It's a real treat for the last night before the Spirit Temple tomorrow."

"After I clear the last temple... that'll be it, right? Then I'll be able to see Princess Zelda?"

"...Presumably."

"I wonder what she'll be like, after seven years... Hey Sheik, you know where she is, right? Do you talk with her? Have you met her?"

"As if I would divulge that information." "I guess I'll just have to find out tomorrow~"

"What if when you meet her,

she's not the perfect person that you imagine? What if she's actually selfish, or cowardly, or cruel?"

"What if she has blood on her hands?"

"Sheik."

[Link's hand has moved to the Master Sword.]

"You don't like Princess Zelda very much, do you."

"..."

"She is using you."

"She's my friend! She's not that kind of person. And I want to help her."

"Aren't the Sheikah supposed to be loyal to the Royal Family? Are you?"

"That is where my loyalty lies. The Princess can trust me to work for her goal, as can you. I have no obligation to like her as a person.

But perhaps you shouldn't trust me fully, either."

"You don't seem like a bad person. You've been helping me get to all the temples. And you've never tried to do anything bad to me even though you could sneak up on me anytime."

Besides, we're friends, aren't we?"

[plink] "You are far too quick to open your heart to others. You may have missed the past seven years, but in a world like this, there are many who would take the opportunity to strike at that openness."

"It's okay, I'm the Hero. I can take it." "You can't treat your own well-being so frivolously like that!"

"All of Hyrule's fate is dependent on you!"

"In a world like this... people need someone who opens their heart more than ever, don't they?

I'm lucky. I slept through all these years, and I woke up strong - strong enough to fight the evils in this world. Strong enough to help all the people who's been hurt and worn down by years of darkness.

So, I don't mind taking a few nicks or hits if it means giving a bit of hope to someone who needs it. It's what I'm made for.

I don't know where Zelda is, but... I hope she can see it, too. That all over Hyrule things are getting a little better, so wherever she is, hopefully things are a little brighter too."

[His optimism makes his face glow in the firelight. Sheik is silent.]

"She doesn't deserve you."

"You sound jealous." ("Don't be absurd!")

"I-I have to go." "Wait, hold--"

[behind a nearby rock formation, Sheik re-materializes, hands clenched]

===

[shot of clasped, gloved hands - Temple of Time] "...It was I, Zelda. Princess of Hyrule."

"I'm sorry for deceiving you all this time..." [Link steps forward, reaching out, hopeful]

!! [The room shakes, a crystal forms around Zelda]

[her vision blacks out, the last sight being Link inaudibly banging on the crystal]

"...Ganondorf... pitiful man..."

"Six Sages... now!"

"...the road between times... will be closed..."

"Link, give the ocarina to me.

As a Sage, I can return you to your original time with it."

[instead of giving the ocarina, Link reaches out and cradles her outstretched hand, like a wounded thing.]

"Are you all right?" "What... I..."

"You look so sad.

Back then, that time when you were talking as Sheik. You said you didn't like the Princess very much."

"It was my childish whims that threw Hyrule into ruin. I have to make amends for all the souls that suffered the price for my mistake. Most of all, you."

"Can I talk to Sheik?" "I..."

"That's just me, Link." "No"

"Even though Sheik was always behind a mask, It seemed like you could talk more truthfully then."

"Link, this isn't the time..." "This is the time! If you're going to send me back, if you want me to give you the ocarina... then at least I want to hear it from Sheik. I want to hear your true words."

"I..."

[Zelda turns away, huddled into herself]

[but silently and motionlessly, she Shifts]

"Can we go somewhere else?"

===

[Lake Hylia - the island with the warp pedestal]

"It's nice to be here without having to worry you'll run off again."

"You're not gonna run off, right?" "Link, please."

[they sit silently for a moment, looking out over the water]

"Is this what you really want? Will it make you happy?"

"This isn't about that. The people of Hyrule--" "That's not what I asked."

"...It doesn't matter." "I'm asking how you feel--" "It doesn't matter!"

[a silent moment.]

"Why do you hate Princess Zelda so much?"

"She was weak. All she could do was cower and hide. All she could do was wait while others fought and bled for her mistake."

"She befriended a brave, pure-hearted boy, only to take advantage of his kindness. She stole so much from him. From everyone."

"How can you even look at her? After what she's done?"

"..."

"After I woke up from the Sacred Realm, I met a lot of people who needed help. People who were beaten down and tired, and lost their hope and will. It was all they could do to hang on and get through each day, and some of them didn't make it."

"But not Zelda. She survived for seven years, and not only that, she traveled all across the land, even through all the dangers - all to make sure that her people were protected, and her hero could succeed."

"There would've been no hope in this land if she hadn't worked to keep it alive for seven years. And she kept this idiot hero alive, too."

"I think she's very strong. Even stronger than me. And she deserves to smile, too."

[Smiling - it's something she hasn't tried to do in a long time. Behind the mask, she is worn down, but tries feebly to mount one more defense]

"What about you? You deserve to be rewarded for your efforts and sacrifice, more than anyone."

"Wouldn't you rather go back to a world without turmoil? Wouldn't it ease your mind, knowing that you saved the lives of so many?"

"Yeah, but I'll know there's one person I haven't saved."

"The one person I most wanted to save." "Don't"

"I'll go back if you want me to. I'll do it if that's what you think is best, Zelda. But don't do it because you think hurting yourself is the only right thing to do, okay?"

"I swore, when I met you, that I would protect you, no matter what. Don't make me do something that would hurt you."

[Link takes her hand, and places the ocarina in it.]

"Please, promise me that whatever you choose... you'll do it with a smile."

[Cradling the ocarina, Sheik tries to gather her composure, but she cannot muster a smile. She looks down, defeated]

"...Will you forgive me, if I choose to be selfish?"

"You know what my answer would be. But I think I'm not the one you need to ask that to. Am I right?"

[A vision - Sheik stands looking down at a young Princess Zelda from seven years ago, bloodied and dirtied as if she had just escaped from the castle]

[Slowly, Sheik approaches and stoops to the young girl's level, and reaches out to pull her into an embrace.]

[In the real world, Sheik is wiping at her eyes]

"I'm sorry. Please stay"

[Perhaps, she's saying it to someone else, too. Link holds her, for a long time]

"Look, the sun's coming up."

[still leaning into each other, they look to the brightening horizon]

"This is a lot nicer than last time."

"When I threw a Deku Nut at you and ran away?" "Heh"

[Looking into the light, Sheik reaches up to her mask, and lowers it. She faces the sun for a moment, then looks up to face Link]

"Hi."

"It's good to meet you... at last."

[their faces are so close. She's moved to lean in and kiss him, just a little.]

"Sorry, I..." "Don't be sorry! That was nice. You're... nice."

"Can I kiss you too?" "Link, I..."

"This body... It's a male body." "So?"

"I thought you might not... like..."

"I like you. The real you. Without hiding. Without holding back."

[Blushing but touched, Sheik tucks her hair behind her ear, finally showing her full face.]

"All right, then."

[they do not hold back.]

===

[partially restored castle - Princess Zelda steps out of a political meeting, looking tired. Out of nowhere, Link tugs her around a corner for a kiss]

"L-Link! You can't just--I'm still Zelda!"

"What? Don't worry, no one's gonna see. (Promise)"

"It's not that, I... I thought you just liked... Sheik."

"I told you, I like you. Did you think I wouldn't want to kiss a beautiful princess?

Zel. You're no less kind, or brave, or hardworking, just because you're in a different body."

[she looks down for a moment, emotional, tempted to refuse. But then she looks up, with a smile.] 

"Okay."

[She steps into his arms, and kisses him fully for the first time]

===

[Fishing Hole - golden hour. Link is struggling to reel in a fish]

[Zelda's POV - Link turns, and drops his rod in excitement] "Zel! You made it!"

[full shot - Zelda is dressed in a plain, androgynous tunic and leggings, carrying a small picnic basket. Her hair is free and loosely pulled back, without a crown, without a mask.] "And you brought food!! You're the best person in the world."

"Man, I didn't realize I was starving" "You have to take better care of your own needs, Hero." "I don't have to, I've got you~"

"Here, you should have some too--"

"Oh crud - there's no more?" "I'm sorry. Supplies are still low--" ("No I'm the one who should be sorry!!")

"Well, here - I've got something for you too."

[Link pulls out a glass bottle, filled with strawberries. They're a deep, ripe red - the first splash of color in this black & white comic] "I picked them from the Lost Woods. They've just started growing back recently."

[He holds one up to her lips. A little tentatively, Zelda bites into it - and bursts into tears]

"Zel!? You okay?" "Y-Yes, I just..."

"It's been... a long time since I've had anything so sweet."

"You deserve it."

[Wide shot - she has a little emotional fit in his arms. Color is gradually seeping into the comic.]

[But eventually, the berries get finished.]

"Link - there's one more thing. I..."

[Zelda takes out the Ocarina of Time, and places it into his hands.]

"Zel, this..."

[She gives him a genuine smile, fond and peaceful.] "Keep it. I've made my decision."

[She touches her forehead to his, as they share a moment of joy] "It suits you better, anyway."

[Zelda pulls out her harp, and begins playing a tune.]

[Link raises the ocarina, and joins her in a duet.]

[The musical notes drift into the sky, intertwined over a lush, colorful world.]

[glitch-pep]

Under the cut is a post talking about the designs I made for this Halloween post right here.

Alright I'll explain the thought process behind these, in order in which I designed them in.

1.) Charlie

For Charlie I was torn between two ideas, cowboy or pirate. Due to my bias for cowboys I was leaning more towards that but eventually a certain someone, you know who you are, I ain't gonna tag you >:D reconvinced me to go for the pirate idea due to the thief part and then I realized that an eye patch would cover her right eye so I was sold. Designing her costume was pretty easy to be honest, I just kept adding stuff to make her look cool. Also, I had to make a Hawkshaw reference, I couldn't possibly resist once I thought of it. I'll probably draw her as a cowboy eventually though. Also, I let her have sharp teeth in the final drawing, as a treat.

2.) Cursed Treasure

Due to the lyrics I came up with I needed to give Charlie some sorta cursed treasure, so I thought a cursed golden Barnaboo statue would look cute and do the trick. The eyes and bow are meant to be gemstones and I made the face looks off so that the cursed part is a bit obvious.

3.) Milo

I actually sketched Charlie's and Milo's designs and finished them in the same day. Milo's was a quick one, I knew immediately that he had to be a vampire cuz he would definitely be something that's somewhat elegant. The hair looked a bit weird to me so I put the sunglasses there to cover it up a bit, and honestly he's pulling it all off better than what I expected. Also his teeth are perfectly goofy enough as to where I can't take him 100% seriously, which is how it should be.

4.) Parasol

The parasol was an afterthought after I had already finished Milo's design. It's inspired by the parasols that Draculaura and Poppy Pointer have. Although I screwed it up by making the handle black instead of white in the final drawing, I was going to fix it but when I started doing that I realized that there's already a lot of white in his design so I kept the black handle.

5.) Mina

For Mina I had to go for the obvious option, a witch, mostly due to lore reasons. It's canon that Mina insists on being a witch every year for Halloween because she told the culdesac kids that "Witches show their true form on Halloween." and she has to keep up that story, although her mom doesn't want her to have the same outfit each year, so she makes a different witch outfit each time. It's a pretty regular outfit with a witch hat slapped on top, but for Mina it perfectly does the trick.

6.) Molly and Mr. T. Bear

It was all fun and games until I started to design Molly's costume. The first idea I had for Molly was for her to be the Tooth fairy. Perfect idea, right? It's somewhat sleep related, Mr. T. Bear can be a tooth and it'll look cute. That's what I told myself. After 3 days of furiously looking through the web trying to find some sorta inspiration or color pallete I actually like, I gave up on the idea. I hated all of the concepts I made to the point where I got tired of the idea. Thing is... I didn't know what other costume to give her. The only ideas I could come up with were: a bed bug, sleeping beauty and Molly and Mr. T. Bear as each other. I didn't like any of those enough, so, in a moment of desperation I asked my friend for help. She told me that she noticed a pattern between the costumes I picked, that all of them were some sorta villans. Vampire, pirate, witch... she was right... I didn't do that on purpose. If she hadn't told me I would've never noticed it... Anyways, she basically suggested that Molly could maybe be a wolf. I was like oh she could be a werewolf because of the full moon and she's a moon you get the gist. And then, later on, when I was looking through the web I came across a drawing of the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood dressed as the grandma. That's when it clicked in my head. Molly as the wolf and Mr. T. Bear as Little Red Riding Hood. I was sold and I ended up liking the designs and finishing them on first try. The friend mentioned here wanted to get credited this way, since she doesn't have any socials.

And that's about it! As much as I dreaded the process because it took me ages, I do think the effort paid off. I'll definitely draw these again! :>

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches & Wizards Jobs 17-18-19

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SEVENTEEN

I slept like I hadn't in months. Living in a constant state of anxiety will do that to you, I suppose. But I was so far from home and from the enemies and dangers of Chicago that it felt as if they were too far away to matter. Even the war seemed a thing happening to someone else. It was a dangerous feeling, particularly because the house didn't have any of the protections of my Chicago apartment, but I was too tired to care.

I woke up to an unfamiliar doorbell and my dog trying to murder me by stepping on my kidneys. That much dog euphorically walking all over you will wake you up in a hurry, if nothing else. I dragged myself out of the surprisingly comfortable bed and down the stairwell to the door.

I found my current boss there.

"Dresden."

"Ford." I was all at once as awake as someone could be, every sense sharply on the alert.

"You can't use an electric stove, can you."

Ok, not the words I'd expected to hear from the man. "Uh, I can probably do it once."

"Without setting the house on fire?"

"Fifty-fifty on that one."

"Mm. Get dressed. We're gonna pick up breakfast."

He must have seen something on my face. I'd expected a lot of things; most people see Soulgazing as a theft, or worse. Very few like what they see in me. I'd expected to be fired, or interrogated, or something in a long and extensive list. Treated to even more food had not been part of it.

Ford shrugged minutely. For once he looked put together, and it was startling. He still had that deceptively harmless quality, the feel of a man that makes friends easily. He was freshly shaved, wearing a light shirt under a summer jacket and casual slacks, all in dark, neutral tones. His hair was still damp. "I refuse to let you think Boston only wants to come at you swinging."

I opened the door wide and stepped aside. "For the record, I don't mind Boston. I just don't want to make waves."

He stepped in. Mouse sniffed him, the banner of his tail wagging sedately, and Ford distractedly rubbed his head. I don't think he even noticed he was doing it. "Is it that easy? If what happened yesterday at the museum hadn't happened, would the city still know you're here?"

"Yes."

He looked thoughtful, but merely went on his way to examine the rooms full of crates while I took the fastest shower in the world, fed Mouse some dog food that looked like it cost more than my rent back in Chicago and got into my spare clothes. We headed out into an unfairly sunny and lovely morning. Trees bordered the street, the houses gracious in their old age. Boston was lovely.

It just wasn't home.

"There is, comparatively speaking, a lot of things living in Boston that aren't human. Supernaturals move, same as us," I explained as we walked. "For work, for life, for family. That's universal. And Boston's one point where that traffic bottlenecks. A lot of them don't go any further."

"So Boston's the best they could find?" He gave me a quick, incredulous glance.

"No, the most convenient. Magic likes it when you throw down roots. You can draw power from your home in a pinch, there's protections that kinda seep into a place the longer you live in it."

"Lintel magic," he murmured.

I damn near stopped walking. It was the first time in all our dealings that I'd heard Ford use the m-word.

"My mother believed," he said after a few steps. "She'd tell me stories, the old classics, and the ones from the Old World. Fairies, wicked stepmothers, charming princes - kelpies, hounds, fairy queens…" He shrugged once again. "I'm not nearly as surprised as I should be that the reality is even bloodier."

"You stopped believing, why?"

The ice flickered briefly in his eyes. "You looked into my soul, Dresden, don't you know why?"

"It doesn't work like that. You know that, or I would already be on a train to Chicago."

He did look amused at that, snorting minutely. "Dresden, you're Crime Lite from where my people and I are standing." He marshalled his thoughts while I tried to figure out if I was flattered, insulted, or something else even more complicated. "Life got in the way. Here comes Parker."

The thief was sprinting at us. She'd probably been coming to meet everyone in the loft. "Nate! Are you getting donuts?"

"Uh, we can?"

"I want donuts."

"I want something a little more substantial than donuts," he pointed out mildly.

"Oh, fine." She peeked at me. "Are you alright?"

"I'll do better with a couple of donuts in me."

She beamed. Ford groaned. We walked down the block to a little shop by the clever name of Double-O's, which did bagels and donuts both. Ford ordered enough food to feed twenty people and we sat at one of the little tables with a couple of donuts and some coffee and they brought me up to speed on what they'd done after I'd gone down.

Parker and Eliot had moved the coffee table, and everything in it, to the storage room, and taped the key to the Witchwell. That was already a huge weight off my mind. But then the Leverage people had gone further - with the crumpled envelope, of all things.

"It's not paper, it's vellum," Ford explained while Parker demolished a donut covered in chocolate and corn flakes. "Which is just fancy paper made to imitate actual vellum."

"Expensive paper," I ventured.

"Precisely."

"There was no writing."

"There doesn't need to be. Remember the embossing on it? It's a sigil, sort of a coat of arms."

"I really, really would love to know what it is you people actually do. So you looked up this sigil thing?

"Solve puzzles." Ford didn't miss a beat. "We didn't have to. Sophie knows it by heart, it's the sigil of Christie's."

"Christie's, the British Auction House?"

"Yes."

I worked on my coffee. "I'm hoping this makes sense to you, because I'm -"

The lights above us flickered. I wouldn't have thought much of it; I was there, after all. But at one of the tables, two women snatched up their purses and one toddler, and scurried off at truly phenomenal speed.

There were advantages to having that many supernaturals around, apparently. I snatched for my wand; like a moron, I'd left my staff back at the house.

"Do not." The gratingly avuncular tone was threaded with menace.

The man in black walked sedately past the counter and the last late morning customers. Only one person reacted to his passage, a young man wearing a typical cycling outfit, a messenger bag slung across his chest. He took one look over his shoulder and bolted. No one else seemed to see him, to know he was there. They shifted out of his way because suddenly they had to reach for a napkin or a sugar packet or something else, but no one directly acknowledged his presence at all.

It was a Veil with conditions. Until that moment I'd never known a Veil could be crafted like that, with exceptions built in.

Ford put a hand on my good shoulder and shook his head minutely. I tried to relax, and managed only to pull my hand out of my duster pocket. Parker was glaring with hyperbolic fury.

"Ah, you must be the sensible one," the man in black told Ford. "What pleasant luck."

"Every now and again," Ford agreed mildly.

He turned to look at Parker. She immediately looked down at her donut and scowled.

"This modern world," the man in black mused. "One comes to find the Prince of Thieves, and it is a woman. How times change. Hands on the table, please. Where I can see them."

"Parker," Ford said quietly when she didn't move. He said nothing else; he merely let his eyes take in the dozen or so people sharing space with us and the wizard.

She obeyed, sulking all the while.

"And yours, wizard Dresden."

Gosh, I'd almost forgotten what it was like, when someone used the title to insult me. I dropped both my hands on the table and worked really hard on not curling them into fists.

"Well, isn't this nice." He sat at our table. He was wearing fully modern clothing, a high-collared white shirt, a black embroidered vest, a long black coat with silver and emerald buttons, dress slacks, expensive shoes. His black hair had been cut and combed back, and his moustache and beard were so neatly trimmed I wouldn't have been surprised to find out he'd used a ruler. He was a very pale man, and his eyes were the same luminous, poisonous green of the painting and his magic. He looked and sounded so smug it took effort not to just haul up and punch him on principle. "So very nice. You have something of mine, sir," he told Ford mildly. "Several somethings, actually." He grinned.

"That would be stealing. I don't make it a habit to confess to crimes publicly, even when I haven't committed any."

The man's eyes flashed. His mouth opened - and closed, and he looked deeply amused. "No, of course not. You have committed no crime." His voice suddenly turned into a lash. "Hands. On the table."

Parker glared at him.

"I do strive to not be a fool more than once," he told her mildly. "If you do that again, I will kill someone here. Someone you do not know. Someone who does not know you. That nice man who served you your donuts, maybe. The old lady one of your companions held the door for one time. It will not hurt you. It will just be a toothache, forever there to be worried at, because I will kill them only if you take your hands off the table. Yes?"

Parker's face had gone to stone. My hands, despite my best efforts, had curled into fists after all. Ford tightened his grip on my shoulder a little more.

"I do not see a need to make this into a quarrel," the man in black said very calmly. "My attention is on greater matters. Whatever Dresden might have told you, until the small issue at the museum, I had committed no crime."

"No c- No crime? At the very least you destroyed the MFA lab. You stole from their vaults."

"Not at all. The portrait is mine. I commissioned Sokolov for it. Beautiful work, truly. I was very pleased with it, even with the nose being wrong."

"Working from memory," Ford mused.

"Mm, as portraitists do. So you see, I was recovering my property."

"You could have gone through proper channels. That shouldn't be a hardship for a man like you."

"I am pressed for time," the man in black admitted. "Which is why I come to make you an offer."

I tensed up immediately. Ford's hand turned into a vise on my shoulder and he shot me a warning look.

"You will return my property to me. And I will not kill you. You will send Dresden home. And I will not kill him. You will forget this matter. And in three days' time, I will grant you and your people your heart's desire. Whatever it might be. Fame, fortune, revenge, knowledge. I am a man of many talents. I daresay there's very little in this world that I could not give you. One wish."

"I get to punch you once," Parker growled immediately.

The man in black blinked in surprise, and then laughed. "Well, not that."

Under the table, Parker's leg bumped lightly against mine. It was so unexpected, so out of nowhere from someone who only touched even her own teammates when she absolutely had to, that it shocked me back to my senses, and I turned my attention to her. She was scowling at the man in black from the corner of her eyes, hunched down minutely, her hands flat on the table, tension on every line of her body, and her face had the same wild expression she'd had back at the Museum, when she'd figured out how to save our asses.

I lunged at the man in black across the table. I did it slow; I already knew I was much quicker than him. For a moment I thought I was going to actually get at him, the one time I didn't care if I did, but Ford belatedly caught me. "Dresden!"

Whatever slammed into me froze me, literally. I felt my veins turn to ice, my muscles lock. Cold blasted into me, left me motionless, unable to even shiver. I could barely gasp for air, but hey, if I wasn't going to get another chance to breathe, I might as well put the one breath I had to good use. "My hands're still on the table," I hissed at the man in black.

I saw surprise and fury flash through his eyes. He'd thrown himself back and scrambled to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor. No one noticed." So they are," he gritted out, and his magic faded, letting me wheeze for breath. With an effort he turned to face Ford, the mild and cheerful facade gone behind a vulturine, sharp and predatory look that was far more appropriate. "My property. Now, if you please."

"Does that include the Burning Witch's Well?"

Surprise once again went over the angular features, quickly hidden out of sight. "Yes."

"Well, you nearly killed twenty people with it, so, uh. No."

The man in black bared his teeth and flicked his hand. The lights went out. I threw my hand up and whatever he'd meant to hit Ford with crashed instead into my shield. It sent us both skidding back until we hit a half-wall behind us, random little decorations falling off it. He looked livid; yeah, still faster than you, asshole.

"Then I will take what is mine, and enjoy the killing of you all in the process," he declared, stalking off.

Breathless or not, Nate rushed immediately after him. I turned to check on Parker. "You alright?"

"Yeah, go get him!" She was wriggling in place. "I gotta put my shoes back on!"

Her sh-

Her shoes?!

There's only so many surprises I can cope with from just one person. I ran after Ford, but he was just outside the door to the shop, looking frustrated, scanning the street in every direction.

"Don't bother," I told him. "He probably closed off the Veil he was wearing to begin with."

"You saw him."

"No. I saw a couple of ladies bolt; they're the ones who saw him. I told you; you can't hide a wizard, not easily."

Parker nearly ran into us both as she charged out the door. "Is he gone?"

"Yup." Ford had that look again, the look that said he was putting together bits and pieces into a whole no one else had even noticed was there.

A man peeked out of the shop. "Mister Ford? Your order's ready."

"Oh, good." He marched back inside.

"You picked his pockets again," I told Parker before either of us followed Ford inside, not sure if I was amused or amazed. I settled for both.

"Yeah, of course I did. You almost messed me up, though!"

"I did? I thought you were signaling me for a distraction!"

She flushed minutely. "No. Your legs are just longer than Eliot's."

"… Sorry?" She grinned a little. "So what did you get?"

She grinned even more.

EIGHTEEN

Nate charged into the loft at full speed. "Hardison, are you here yet?"

The hacker had been in the kitchen; he peeked out of the fridge. "Yeah, man. Uh, fridge's broken."

"Then replace it, landlord mine." Nate glanced at the door and added, his voice quieter. "Quietly."

Hardison's expression filled with understanding, and he nodded. "Did you get breakfast?"

"They're bringing it up. I don't promise there's any donuts left. Is everyone else here?"

"We are now." Eliot held the door open for Parker and Dresden, Sophie coming up behind them. "What's this I'm hearing, that you met the man in black?"

"We did," Nate confirmed cheerfully.

"What?!" Hardison looked stunned.

"Is everyone alright?" Sophie asked.

"Oh, yeah, everyone's fine. He just wanted to talk. Threaten us, bully us, you know, the usual. Dresden, back to your couch, I need Hardison's computers." The wizard went that way obediently, but he didn't let go of the box he was carrying, raiding its contents before he surrendered it to Eliot. Sophie followed Parker to the staging area.

"Hardison." Nate sat and stared at the screens. "The Tetryakov Gallery is the main repository of Sokolov's work. That's not just his portraits and his studies, that's also his journals, his notebooks. The records of his commissions. Do they have electronic copies of those?"

In a moment the central screen was full of documents, more and more being flicked to one side as the hacker blithely charged into presumably secured databases across the world. "Some of it."

"Cross-reference against the portrait. We might not know who the people in it are, but it's absolutely one of Sokolov's largest pieces."

"It's also a full-body portrait of two people. He preferred faces, busts, or large groups. It's unique," Sophie added.

"Give me a minute, I'm having to run all this through a translator. I don't actually read Russian."

"Sophie, Parker. Are there any big art events taking place within the next three days?"

"Yes," Parker replied before Sophie could. "A private art auction in two days." She pulled from an inner jacket pocket a small piece of paper and handed it over with a grin.

Sophie took it, read it, and passed it on. "That's what the Christie's man is here for. He's not selling, he's buying."

"He just went to all this trouble to get the portrait, and he's selling it already?" Eliot protested mildly. "Why?"

"Because in two days he won't need it anymore." Ford stared at the screen. "Dresden, the brass piping. What you meant to do with it, can you do it in the storage room as well?"

"If there's enough brass, yes."

"Do it." Nate looked at his team. "He can't find them. He came to us because whatever Dresden did worked. The key, the circles, whatever it is, they are actually doing their job and he can't find all the stuff Parker took from him. I bet he had some sort of tracker in his pockets, waiting for Parker to go for it."

"Jerk," the thief muttered, but she didn't sound angry as much as resigned. "I figured the paper was safe."

"Dresden."

Eliot brought the piece of paper to their consultant. It was a match to the envelope, heavy vellum, the ink black and gold, the writing beautifully elegant. Dresden grimaced as soon as he touched it, and lifted it up. "Nope. This is your tracker."

"I can't put it back when he just keeps being invisible!" Parker protested.

Nate gestured appeasingly. "Hardison, make a copy. We'll put the original with the rest of the stuff. I imagine next he's going to try and break in, send the leshy to fetch them, or something worse." Once again he turned to Dresden. "Can you stop that from happening?"

"Yes, but I should get started soon," the wizard had sat up straight, staring in something like wonder as, once again, Nate did what he did best.

"You've got the whole day. Sophie, you and I have a meeting for dinner."

"Fedorov?" When he nodded confirmation, she pursed her mouth. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"No. That's why we're going."

Hardison had put the invitation into a scanner that was discreetly hidden in one of the desks. He handed it back to Parker, who glared at it as if it were the man in black himself. The computers chose that moment to beep and he looked sharply up. "Found it." His fingers flew over the keyboard and he grimaced. "They're direct scans from one of Sokolov's commission journals. The OCR is having a time with it, let me see if I can make the name of the commissioner any clearer." He clipped one particular set of lines from the yellowed, faded page on the screen.

Sophie drew in a sharp breath. Eliot, who'd been coming over to take the invitation from Parker, froze.

"You're fine, Hardison. It reads fine like that," Nate murmured distractedly.

"That can't be right," Eliot muttered.

"What's been right about this job from the beginning?" Sophie countered mildly.

"What's it say?" Hardison asked.

All three of them replied at once. "Koschei."

Behind them, Dresden choked on his breakfast sandwich.

Nate clapped his hands. "This is good!"

"Good?" Eliot stared at the mastermind in disbelief. "This is good? We're going up against the main bad guy in every Russian fairy-tale ever written, someone who actually makes the Russians balk, and you think this is good?!"

"All fairy tales have their basis on something real," Sophie had sat to one side, her hands wrapped around a cup she hadn't touched yet. "Khan Koshan was a barbarian warlord, back in a time when Russia was simply Rus, 'the land'."

"It's good because we have a name," Nate explained. "And a name means a trail. Wizards might not be able to use technology - he is a wizard?" He turned to Dresden, waited for a nod to carry on. "But the rest of the world does. A name means a profile, travel records, hotels, purchases. Even if he's not using his own name, and honestly I expect he'd be the sort who would out of sheer arrogance, a name isn't the sort of thing that blows up computers, like an image does." He turned to stare at the screen. "A name gives us everything. Hardison, this isn't your usual profile, but can you give me an estimate of how long it will take you?"

"You want me to guess how long it'll take to sift through two hundred years of fairy tales to get a bead on this man?" Hardison stared at Nate.

"He's older than that," Dresden sounded off. "He's much, much older than that."

"Dresden." Nate acknowledged. "Do you have a starting point?"

Harry exhaled sharply. "Yes," he replied carefully.

The mastermind pressed his mouth into a thin line and added, "One that doesn't involve men in gray and big swords?"

"I'm working on that," Dresden admitted. "Khan Koshan is…sort of a wizardly cautionary tale. He's the only wizard anyone knows of that successfully managed immortality."

"As in he can't die, or he can't be killed?" Eliot asked.

"Both," the wizard replied grimly. "That's half the trick. You can be ageless, if you don't mind every supernatural in the world out for your blood. You can be unkillable, if you don't mind selling your soul. As far as anyone knows, he got both kewpie dolls without paying the price."

"So he's a criminal." Nate didn't look convinced.

"That's the other half, he's not. Technically." Harry seemed to measure his words with incredible care. "The best known way to be ageless is by stealing the life off of someone else. That is outright necromancy. Men in gray. Big swords."

"He's not doing that." It wasn't a question.

"No. No one knows how he's doing it, only that he absolutely doesn't age, and that he's not a necromancer."

"And he can't be killed? Hurt?" That came from Eliot, who was scowling at the very thought.

"Parker clocked him twice at the museum. Solid hits. They were gone by the time I tackled him."

"That can't be an easy trick to pull off," Sophie mused.

"It's not. What… is known is what the fairy-tales are already telling you. He cut out his own heart and hid it - he hid it so well that no one can find it, not even death."

Sophie drew in a deep breath. "The brooch. The Emerald Heart of Koschei the Deathless. The jewel that no one's ever seen, but everyone knows is real."

"Yup. Now, here I'm going on hearsay: he did it to gift it to a woman he loved. But she rejected him, and it poisoned the heart. Turned him greedy and cruel. He was going to share the trick of it with the world, up until that point. Having met the man, I think it's bullcrap. He never meant to give the secret away. He's just spinning some PR to make himself look the victim, not the villain."

"That tracks," Nate agreed.

"Is that what he's after?" Eliot turned. Hardison had put up a picture of the portrait on one of the screens, deeming it safe enough since no phones had been sacrificed in the acquisition of it.

"The placement of the lock would seem to hint at it," Sophie agreed, but she saw Nathan frown minutely.

Surprisingly, it was Dresden who sounded off. "Why? It's been safe all this time, impossible to find. Why bother now, why bother at all?"

"Mm." Nate stared at the painting. "Dresden, do you mind shouting across the room?"

"I like it better than the alternative."

"Then I'd like you to work with Hardison on the profile, but the security around the things we took from Koschei takes priority. Eliot, you're with them. Sophie, Parker, we're going to find out what we can about this private auction."

"I bet Jess knows," Parker suggested.

"Start there, then. Dresden." It was Nate's turn to choose his words very carefully. "Is this something you should report to your people?"

The wizard looked surprised to even be considered on that regard. "Technically."

"We're flying on a lot of 'technically's here," the mastermind muttered.

"I mean, I can't use a cellphone. I'd have to find a landline." A little smirk ghosted over Harry's features making him look, for a fleeting moment, young. "The only ones I know of are back in Chicago."

Nate didn't smile, but it was a close thing.

NINETEEN

To be fair, I did get why Ford called it 'wanton destruction of property'. Eliot just looked way too gleeful wielding a power tool. And it absolutely wasn't because I was a little bit jealous that he got to use the fun toys, like a nail gun. Cordless drill. Power sander.

Nope, not jealous at all.

So the morning went with Eliot in my basement and me out in the yard entertaining Mouse, and the hitter occasionally stopping long enough to relay a question from Hardison back at the loft.

Then he ran out of iron nails. That wasn't anyone's fault, I'd asked for enough for a few spells, not enough to line the doors and windows, which was what it would take to keep the leshy out. No shield or barrier I could think of was going to keep a Golden Bear out, obviously. And I couldn't imagine anyone had ever come up with something to keep Koschei out, it would have been the stuff of legends. No, the point was the circle, and the ward inside, a copy of the pattern on the key.

Hey, if it worked for Koschei it was good enough for me.

Eliot took off to get more nails. Hardison didn't want me near the loft while he worked on a little joint project I'd suggested. Which gave me the perfect opportunity to head into my shiny new basement, close my shiny new circle for protection, and break out Bob.

I'd honestly thought about leaving Bob behind. My apartment might not look like much, but there were protections on it that only living for years in the same place can create. My laboratory, the sub-basement, was not only protected but hard to find. There was a better than good chance that Bob would be reasonably safe. But better than good was no perfect. And powerful and knowledgeable as Bob was, he still lived in a skull, and skulls are fragile. I wasn't worried about any of the many enemies in my life breaking in and finding him nearly as much as I was about them breaking in and not realizing how valuable he was while they wrecked the place.

In any case, I'd brought him with me. I hadn't expected we'd do much. I figured I could let him loose for a little while, if nothing else, and use that later as, heh, leverage when I needed his help. But that had been before I realized the size of the mess in Boston. I brought my rucksack down to the basement, found three boxes that had been on the Endless List, and put the skull on top of them. "Wake up, Bob."

The spirit's eyes lit up like candles, and immediately blazed and sparked like fireworks. "Whoa!"

"Yeah, welcome to Boston." I knew exactly how he felt. I put the sack on the shiny new workbench and sat on the shiny new stool.

"Ooof, headrush." Bob sorted himself out faster than I had, and his eyes rolled all around the sockets as he took in his surroundings. "Nice place. These Leverage people are taking good care of you, I see. Did you ever find out what it is they do?"

"I'm working on it."

"You know, Harry, it wouldn't have killed you to put me on a window during the train ride. It's been forever since I've really traveled."

"I was asleep for most of it."

"Liar," Bob sang back. "Are you wearing a sling?"

"I was trying to sleep for most of it. And yes." The shoulder was only occasionally throbbing, but Eliot had been very clear about wearing the sling as long as possible. "The Leverage people seem to have stepped into something a little beyond everyone's paygrade."

The spirit scoffed minutely. "Mortals."

"I'm not sure I'd have the arm to put in a sling if it weren't for them, so let's skip the pleasantries about that. I need to make a quick veil-shielding charm."

"Harry, you can't do that, you know that. A charm that can defend against a Veil needs to be attuned to, if not the Veil, then the wizard casting it, else it burns up."

"I'm fine with it burning up. I just need it to last five minutes. Two even." I couldn't even imagine the sheer amount of mayhem any of these people could do in two minutes. Or less, but I was trying to play it safe.

"What a waste of magic," Bob scoffed.

"Bob, focus. These are the same people who got you the boxes you're sitting on." The skull was sitting on top of three boxes full of paperback romances. I didn't question his unlife choices and Leverage hadn't questioned mine.

The spirit's attention turned inward briefly. "Well, I'm suddenly feeling a lot more generous toward our hosts," he declared, far too chipper. "Also, this city's making my teeth buzz. Anything that takes attention away from that is welcome."

"Oh, I have lots more questions for you, don't worry. The charm?"

"Did you bring the Vivendum with you? Page 253. By the way, Gottridge is lying, the charm works just as well in metal as it does glass, as long as it's not iron or lead."

I lifted one of the pins I'd found in the Lost & Found box. "How about pewter?"

"Ooo, tin and copper, perfect. If you get lucky, there might even be silver in there."

I found the Vivendum Grimoire, one of the books I'd brought with me from Chicago, found the spell to enchant the charms, and started rummaging about for sympathetic ingredients. Magic's all like that: sometimes you need something specific, but for the most part as long as you have something that sorta resonates with what you mean to do, you're fine. I found a heavy mortar and pestle first, and started throwing things in there: a lens and some colorful beach glass, a few plastic whistles. I tore strips out of a sheet of sandpaper, and emptied a bottle of perfume in. Then I started looking about for something to fill in the fifth slot. Gottridge recommended cheese, but everyone agreed that the man had had a dairy allergy.

"Rice," Bob said in a long-suffering tone. "Rice, Harry. If you cannot go to one extreme, go to the other."

I threw my last ingredient in, covered the mortar and started grinding. "Next question. Can you make a suppression spell into a suppression potion?"

Bob sucked in a breath. How, I didn't know, given he lacked every single element needed for it. "Yes, but it's not gonna taste good. Among other things."

"Other things?" I asked in between working the pestle.

"Think, Harry. The point of a spell is that you can dismiss it at will. If you drink the suppression, how are you going to dismiss it if you need your magic?"

"Can it be done so it's on a timer?"

"Tricky, but doable. And it's still going to taste like the bottom of a ditch. Why are you wearing a sling?"

"Because I dislocated my shoulder last night. Work out the recipe, please." The pestle began grinding more smoothly, so I gave all my focus to the spell. Bob knew better than to distract me, though I could all but feel those witch-light eyes burning into my back.

It wasn't hard, particularly because I didn't need it to be efficient, or good. Like I'd told Bob, I just needed the charms to do their thing long enough for my employers to get wise to a bad situation and bail. I worked the spell into the ingredients until I had fine, dust-colored dust on the bottom of the mortar; I scooped that into an empty salt shaker, sprinkled it all over the dozen or so pins I had ready, covered it all with a dish-cloth with sunflowers printed on it and left the magic to cook.

"You've been here barely a day and you dislocated you shoulder already?" Bob burst out as soon as the cloth settled.

"The suppression recipe, please."

"Harry!"

"It wasn't by choice!"

"That's worse!"

"Bob… These people live and work and do everything on computers. The suppression potion, please. Besides, they put it back already."

I got a recipe, and about ten minutes' worth of being lectured in between every step and ingredient, where Bob knew I couldn't get away or complain too much. "What do these people even do, did you ever figure that out?"

"Nope, and at this point I don't want to. Next question: what would it take to summon a Golden Bear out of the Nevernever?"

Bob went quiet. You wouldn't think this a bad thing unless you knew Bob. Unfortunately, I knew Bob.

"I mean, a couple of the wizards on the Council might be able to, if they can find one. If they can convince it to come through. Things that big, they don't like it on this side, Harry. It takes too much effort and they're not bright enough to put in the work themselves."

"Let me rephrase," I said as I tried to figure out if I had half the things I needed for the suppression potion. "What would it take for someone to instantly summon a Golden Bear out of the Nevernever to do their bidding?"

Bob went quiet again. His eyes were staring at me with an almost solid weight. "Harry, what aren't you telling me?"

"Too hard? Ok, here's another one: tell me every you know about Koschei."

The silence went on for so long that I would've thought him gone if it weren't for the eyes pinned on me. "Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Call the Council."

"Not an option."

"Harry, I know you. If you're asking leading questions about Koschei, it's because you've already met the man. You know for a fact he's here. You are involved, and that is the least safe thing you could be. This is beyond you, Harry. This might be beyond the Council, but at least if you call them it'll be them dying, not you." Bob was sounding very clipped and rushed; it was something I very rarely heard from him, I guess because when you're stuck in a skull there's not much to make you afraid anymore.

"I can't. Not with the War going on. Even if I did manage to get through to someone, I have no way of knowing if they'd have anyone to send. I'm here, now. This is the job."

"You can't take Koschei on! Harry, that's beyond suicide. He has a reputation for holding grudges for a reason!"

"That's a problem for future me. Present me still needs to know everything you can tell me about him -"

"I will not!"

"-because if you don't he's still coming after me, I just won't know when or where or how."

The skull somehow blew me a raspberry, and let out a highly infuriated sound. "What did you do?!"

I brought him up to speed while I worked on attuning a couple of compasses to the chalk I'd scrawled on the back of the portrait. Odds were the painting -sorry, the portrait- would be protected with the same anti-tracking magic on the key, but just in case it wasn't I wanted some way for the others to follow and find it, not just me.

"So he's here for his heart?" Bob saw me grimace as I worked. "You don't think so."

"No. It's been safe all this time, Bob, he has no reason to look it up now, particularly not so openly, so blatantly. If he just wanted the heart he could've gone into the museum at night, broken in by magic and taken it. No, he wants that portrait for another reason."

"And you're sure the woman's the Hag herself?"

"Ford thinks so. I haven't met her."

"I still don't like it."

"Oh, I'm thrilled as peaches about it, Bob," I told him, and all the sarcasm I'd learned from the damn skull came out with the words. "Really. I've met the man twice and both times he wiped the floor with me. I'm sure earning my paycheck."

"Harry, no one could ever pay you enough to face off against the Raven." Bob's voice went to a quieter note. "You're alive. Take the win."

"What'd you say?"

"I said take the win, you -"

"No, I mean, what'd you call him?"

"The Raven? The Blackbird? I wouldn't even be saying his name if we weren't in a circle that I'm sure you've closed. He's one of those people who are deeply attuned to any attention coming their way. You know the type. Opera singers. Politicians."

"So he can tell when someone says his name?"

"If he's listening. If he knows the person saying it. If there's enough intent, like with any other sort of magic. Why?"

I closed my eyes and focused on that morning. Koschei hadn't actually met Sophie; the vault hallway of the MFA had been dark, and I'd drawn his attention away just long enough that, by the time he'd caught up to us, Sophie had already bolted to go get Eliot.

Eliot, he knew. Unfortunately.

But he didn't know Ford. They hadn't even traded names at the bagel shop. More, Ford didn't believe. It didn't matter that he'd seen me actually throwing magic around, he was more like the sort of person I'm used to, the ones who wanted to explain it all away and forget it had ever happened.

So, just as we'd expected, he probably had a nebulous idea of where his stuff was - somewhere on the block, if he'd sniffed me out already. But he wouldn't know precisely where, and with the anti-tracker in place, he never would. "See, that's the sort of thing I need to know. How about sharing some fairy tales with me while I work on the suppression potion?"

Bob wasn't happy about it, but he also had a vested interest in keeping me alive, and it was going to be hard enough without suggesting one of his usual bargains. I spent the next hour setting up and preparing the suppression potion while he told me old Russian fairy tales and scared the crap out of me.

And yet.

The thing was, whenever I was on a case, things were usually happening so fast, coming at me from every direction, that most of the time I wasn't acting, I was reacting. That wasn't happening with the Leverage people; it couldn't. Whatever came at them, one of them knew how to deal with it and the rest knew to follow through.

Which included me.

I'd never realized it before, because I usually worked alone. I didn't have time to think through what I was doing, I barely had time to catch my breath, keep all my body parts attached to the body in question. But working with other people, capable people, I'd held my own. It wasn't gonna save me from Koschei, but it was kind of enlightening to know I could keep up with some of the smartest folk I'd ever met. Even if they were suspiciously criminally inclined.

I got the potion sorted out, dipped my finger and tried a taste, since I was pretty sure I was done doing magic until lunch, at the very least. It tasted about as bad as I'd expected. "Hey, Bob?"

"I don't have a tongue, I'm not tasting it for you."

"It's not that. I was just thinking, if you can see what's in those three boxes, you can probably do a general inventory -"

"Oh, here we go with the drudgery."

"- and I need to know if I've got what I need to make a mirror-mask -"

"Hey, Harry!" Eliot called out somewhere above me. "You home?"

"Inventory, Bob."

"There better be another box in it for me," he grumbled.

"Thanks." I stepped forward and focused on breaking the circle, except as soon as I stepped up to it it disappeared.

Right, suppression potion.

"Dresden!"

"Down here!" I set my foot on the stairs.

The doorbell rang. It was about as old as the house, and it seemed to be holding up well in my presence. It was certainly loud enough to nearly make me jump off the stairs. Eliot had just opened the basement door up top, and I saw him snap around like a wolf scenting prey. He put up a hand; I'd seen enough of the man to stop dead where I was.

He walked out of sight. I couldn't even hear his steps on the wooden floors. I only knew where he'd gone when the front door opened. I heard a woman's voice, I heard Eliot saying something back before he called out, "Dresden, someone here to see you."

That, I wasn't expecting. I trotted up the stairs, closed the door; Mouse was waiting for me there, ears perked and tail on the alert. He whuffled a warning.

Eliot shot me an equally wordless warning with his eyes before he stepped back, away from the door. There was a woman there with a kid, a young girl. I'm not good with children but she was old-ish, maybe twelve. Something like that.

When someone talks about someone who's not classically beautiful? The woman was the very definition of it. She was short, solid, very curvy, but even when she was just standing there there was a grace, a sort of unbreakable dignity that made you take notice. She was wearing a very prim business suit, gray skirt and jacket, white silk shirt, black shoes. She had dark hair done up in a very severe bun, dark skin the color of copper, sharp features mixed in with soft curves. Her eyes were black as midnight, with a ring of gold.

Her daughter had the ghost of her mother's beauty; she was quickly growing into it, though there was a bit of lanky to her that said her father was probably taller, definitely skinnier. She was wearing some sort of uniform, gray pleated skirt and white shirt, and she looked scared; she took one quick peek at me and immediately pinned her eyes down, but it was long enough for me to see she had her mother's eyes.

"You are wizard Dresden?" The woman had a thick, nearly impenetrable accent. She also had a printed sheet of paper with, of all things, my ad on the Chicago Yellow Pages on it. "Lost Items Found?" she recited.

"Uh -" I'm not good when I'm not under pressure. I usually get myself all hyped up and ready when I have to talk to a customer, be it on the phone or in my office back in Chicago. It didn't help when she suddenly started talking in a language that sounded a little bit like music and a lot like nothing I'd ever heard before. "Whoa. Ma'am. Ma'am, please."

"She wants to know if you're the man from the ad." Eliot's frown had changed to a look of curiosity.

"You sp -? What is sh -?"

"Wampanoag. Algonquian. It's a native - hold on." The woman had kept on talking, faster and faster, and Eliot put his hands up to stop her. "Ma'am, please, wait a minute -"

"Ma'am, he's human!" I shot at her, hating that I had to.

It worked. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. She stepped back. "Sorry! Sorry! Am sorry! Am so sorry! I say nothing!"

Eliot fell back, confused, so I stepped forward. "It's fine. It's fine, ma'am. Yes, I'm Harry Dresden. Can we please move this inside?" I thought for a moment she was just going to bolt, but obviously whatever had made her track me down sight unseen, in Boston, had more weight than her fear of humans and she stepped in, her daughter keeping close.

"Dresden, what was that?" Eliot muttered.

"There's a thousand humans for every single supernatural in the world, and most of them come out shooting if they get so much as a whiff of anything weird. Never sell yourself short in a fight, Eliot, not that I think you would. Humans are the tactical nuke of the supernatural world."

"And scary accordingly?"

"It's just safer if humans don't find out what lives around them. Safer for everyone involved."

"Hardison wants to know why you're not blowing up the earbud."

"Suppression potion. Long story. No magic for me right now. I'd take it out, it's gonna wear off any minute."

We sat down. Mother and daughter laced hands, and the woman said something. Eliot opened his mouth, but the kid beat him to it. "We don't want any trouble. We didn't know you had humans with you. We don't know what the rules are for people in other cities."

"I'm a little looser on the rules than most wizards. Now, I'd love to ask how you tracked me down, but I'm more interested in why."

"I found you on the internet," the girl replied. "I told my mom. We had a friend sniff you out. It wasn't hard." The mother said something. "He said you smell like big water, like a lake."

"You found him by his smell?" Eliot sounded stunned. She shrugged. Her mother said something and he frowned. "I'm not sure I got that right, it wasn't Algonquian."

"It was Welsh," I said. "Wasn't it?" I looked at the two ladies sitting on a couch that had been, until five minutes ago, still wrapped in plastic. "Because there's no word for 'selkie' in the local tongue."

The mother finally found her courage. "You help us. You find lost items, yes? You help."

Well, the next part was gonna suck. I've been the victim of my share of raw deals in my day. There's been a lot of times when I've had to sit down, shut up and take it when someone's doling out misery. I'll never agree to leaving someone in that kind of situation, but there's rules of magic even I can't bend. "Not this one, no. Ma'am… did he take it fair?"

She drew herself up proudly. "Never fair. Never. You know, wizard. You know this."

"Wait, selkie, as in, the selkie? Seal-woman?" I saw Eliot go through every stage between disbelief and understanding in under five seconds. Then I saw dark, cold rage blot out the sunshine. "Her skin. Someone took her skin."

"Someone took her skin, what, twelve, thirteen years ago?" I asked the kid.

"Fourteen," she replied haughtily.

"That deal's done. It's like signing a contract, you might not like it, but you're stuck with it. The penalties for breaking it are… severe. And interfering is tricky. Interfering with magic into a selkie marriage tends to rebound, ricochet. Like a bullet. "Ma'am, I can't help you, I'm just - I'm a wizard. The rules apply to me same as everyone."

"No!" She snapped at me. "I no say -" She growled in frustration, then looked at her daughter and took a deep breath. "He find my skin. Take. Is law. I know. I no need you find my skin, wizard. I need you find my daughter's skin."

Oh, Hell's Bells.

Both Eliot and I turned to stare at the girl. Thirteen, fourteen years old. In some places, to some men that I couldn't legally set on fire, she was ready to be married.

"He took your daughter's skin," Eliot sounded ready to murder someone.

"Yes. You find."

"I'm… working -"

"Can you find her skin, Dresden?"

"There's a few things I could try?"

He smiled at the two seal-women. It almost looked like his usual sunshine smile, but I could see the murder still lurking somewhere behind it. "We'll do what we can, ma'am."

She sagged with relief and reached for her purse. "I pay -"

"No payment required," he told her pleasantly.

"But we'll need as much information as you can give us about your -" Even knowing Eliot felt the same as I did, even knowing I had both backup and permission to act, I still wanted to set someone on fire. I did my best to smile instead. Smile and reassure. "- your husband."

She had it all typed up neatly in another piece of paper she pulled out of her sensible purse, as well as a few hairs in a bit of plastic wrap and her contact information, which directed us to Sannah, her daughter. We saw them to the door, waved them away, and Eliot turned to face me. "Dresd- " The little bit of suppression potion I'd tasted chose that moment to run out, and he yanked the earbud out as it screeched angrily. He drew in a deep breath. "Is that for real? Someone took her skin and she had to marry him?"

"Yeah. Crap deal, with magic and hope keeping them tethered. As long as there's even a chance to get her skin back, she'll do anything, put up with anything."

His hands curled into fists. It took him a few moments and a couple of deep breaths to get past the first crest of anger; he was better at it than I was, I'd known about selkies for so much longer, and I was still angry at the whole situation. "So, how do you normally handle something like this?"

"Uh, I go to the library, look up the guy. Tail him, on foot or by magic, see if he goes any place that isn't home or work. Find out where the skin is, report back to her with the location."

"Wh- That's it? There's no… explosions, no fighting?"

"He's human. Anyone else would know to give the skin back. A selkie's skin is bad luck on an impressive scale to anyone but the owner, it's why you can't use magic to break up the marriage."

"So he'd be using human means to keep the skins." He looked very thoughtful.

"Probably, yes."

A slow, wicked grin bloomed on the man's face that made me feel as if we were about to do some very bad things to some very bad people. It was a good feeling after having Koschei wipe the floor with us. Me, mostly. "Good. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Out of the dark ages and into the age of the geek. Unless you're in the middle of something?"

"Nothing that can't wait." Yeah, ok, I was curious to see how Leverage dealt with a supernatural challenge, even if it was a relatively minor one.