#I have made a post about the backstory a few weeks ago

[ceiling-karasu]

New Chapter of The Rod that Blocks the Lightning!

First of all, I'm sorry for the length of this chapter, but I could not break it up without ruining a certain joke. I'll keep the other chapters of a more manageable length.

We WILL get back to Guemsaegi in the next chapter.

Summary: With the commanders of both sides busy, and Geumsaegi temporarily out of the picture, their soldiers gathered to discuss how they felt about the war and their leaders. But within Flower Hill, the surviving remnants of Tokgasi finally gather together. Unable to return to the Weasel Unit after their loss, they make their plans to strike at the very heart of Cherry Valley to get their revenge.

Fun spoiler and link to profile under the read more

Korean Turtle Boat vs Japanese flagship, 1592. Not sure about my own time period, but this did happen a bit.

[theeveninghour]

All My Dreaming | Part 2

Summary: After accepting the mating bond, you and Azriel explore some missed opportunities. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

A/N: Thank you for the love on All My Dreaming!!! Not to be horny on main but I couldn’t stop writing for this story, here’s ~8k more words of extremely sweet and very nasty Azriel. I really wanted to write a fun scene with Mor and the gang Rita’s but couldn’t find a place for it in the first part, so y’all are getting it here. There is like, so very little plot here, I just wanted to write a few more scenes and give some additional backstory on these two because I think they’re cute. Also, I love writing little vignettes for this storyline so I might post a few more, much smaller (lol) snippets of them as an epilogue! 

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

WC: 8.4k (i have no self control)

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, cunnilingus, face sitting, more love declarations, Cassian being a lil flirty in flashbacks, soft dom!Az, little hints at jealous!Az, the slightest amount of angst, talk of previous abuse (but nothing too descriptive) and slight breeding kink because Az has one (I feel this in my bones). Azriel is down astronomically bad for the reader in this one y’all. The last 2.7k is literally just porn lol 

Part 1

True to his word, Azriel kept you in the meadow until dawn. The sun beginning to paint the night-sky with sepia hued pinks and oranges. You’d long since finished the wine, eaten half the bread, and most of the fruit and cheeses. He laid against the quilt, wings spread magnificently as you laid against him, thigh over his abdomen, head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing idly at the tattoo inking his chest. He hummed contentedly, and you ventured your eyes up his, finding his gaze already on you.

“Can I ask you something?” You tested the waters of this new thing; bond, love, cocoon that enveloped you. “Anything,” he smiled. “When did you know?” You asked softly. He furrowed his brow. “That I loved you?” He asked and you nodded, turning your upper half to rest your chin on the hand that had stilled against his chest. He laughed. Mother above, he laughed so warmly that it made your eyes crinkle and lips spread into a grin from the sound alone. 

“You’re going to hate this,” he said as a preface, smiling, dimples appearing as he looked to you, “but it was a few weeks after you joined us, and Cassian mouthed off at you about being late to training.” You raised a brow. “You fell in love with me, while I was being…….degraded?” You asked, a little deadpan. “No,” he shook his head in correction, still chuckling. “It was what you did after.”

Cassian kept a strict training schedule. He trained in the early hours of the morning on the balcony at the House of Wind, ate breakfast, then moved to outdoor weapons and flight training off the banks of the Sidra until the early afternoon. He was strenuous and strict in his routine, as was Azriel. You’d begun training with them the week before, and if you were totally honest, you weren’t fully comfortable with the two brothers yet. Cassian was rough around the edges, brutish, with a mouth that often got him into trouble. Azriel was quiet, observant in a way that unnerved you. You’d caught his eyes following you often and you hated the warmth that pressed into your cheeks when he did. 

Rhysand had warned them to give you time to adjust. You’d been brutally attacked by Beron’s dogs only a few months ago and forced to live in the wilds for nearly six weeks, eating foraged fauna and what game you could kill with a makeshift spear you’d carved using sharpened obsidian and a walnut branch. Your body grew weary in those weeks; endless fear, starvation, and sleepless would do that. You were still a jittery little thing, like a wild animal, jumpy when Amren or Mor managed to sneak up on you by accident. 

Azriel recognized these symptoms and allowed you a leniency he didn’t normally offer his trainees, but trauma, physical and mental, took a toll on the body as he well knew. He’d gifted you a golden hilted dagger on your second week with them and asked if you knew how to use it. You held it in your palm, noting the blue stone that sat in the bolster and double edged blade that you could see your reflection in. You looked a little gaunt, but your cheeks held color again, your lips were fuller, no longer dry and chapped from mountain winds and cold nights. 

“I know how to use a blade Shadowsinger,” you said in an even tone. You didn’t call him by his name then. You also called Cassian ‘General’ to his face, and ‘asshole’ behind his back. “Most females learn to use them,” you followed up, “out of necessity.” Azriel hated to dwell on those words, hated to think about what you’d gone through before Beron, what your father had done. He nodded once, and placed a sheath and belt down on the table next to you before taking his leave. 

You’d awoken late for training that day, the sun had rose to a bright position in the mid-morning sky and you knew you’d never hear the end of it from Cassian. You dressed slowly into your training leathers, belting your dagger around your hips and took a deep breath. You walked to the balcony, noticing the males absence and winnowed to the training grounds at the Sidra. Cassian’s eyes found yours immediately and he sheathed his broadsword, turning to look at you. Azriel was perched on a fallen tree stump nearby, and his eyes traced your face, noting the darkened circles there. He’d heard you screaming in your sleep last night and his heart ached at the sound, his shadows slinking off to find you. 

“So you didn’t forget,” Cassian said, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Tell me something, little girl, do you even want to be here?” He stressed the word want in his sentence in a way that had both you and Azriel narrowing your eyes. “This is the third day this week that you’ve been late to training, and the second that you’ve missed morning warm ups altogether.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh, “I’m beginning to think Rhys was wrong about you.” Azriel went still and he felt a bit of rage creep up his spine at his brother’s harshness. 

In the blink of an eye, you’d unsheathed your dagger and thrown it at the Illyrian general. It whizzed past his head, nicking his cheek, and landed in the training dummy behind him. “Fuck you,” you’d growled teeth bared, as you shifted a stance that begged for a fight. Cassian turned and pulled the knife from the dummy’s eye socket, before throwing in the dirt at your feet. “A little to the left next time you try to kill me,” he smirked. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have missed, asshole,” you said as you fixed him with a glare and your jaw ticked in anger. Cassian’s face broke into a shit eating grin and he laughed, which made you sneer with frustration.

“Good to see you’re still alive in there,” he said smiling, “I was hoping we’d see that spark.” Your anger dissolved as fast as it built up. You reached down to pick your dagger from the dirt and sheathed it at your waist. “Seriously, Cassian, fuck you,” you said and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows before stalking off to train alone. Cassian sighed and went to follow you but Azriel rose to feet to stop him, stepping into his path. “Let her calm down,” he suggested, placing a hand to his brother’s arm. Cassian sighed. He knew he was being rough with you, but it the only thing left he could think to do. “We’ve tried nice, brother. Tough love worked on Amren, maybe it’ll work on her too,” Cassian spoke softly before trotting after you. 

A few paces off you’d begun firing arrows into a target carved in the bark of an elm tree, teeth grinding. Cassian was right in his intent though, you had to get out of your own head if you were to move forward. You pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocking it on the bowstring and pulling it back until the bow met the pile at the tip. You heard him coming before you saw him.

“Listen, I’m just—” you heard Cassian’s voice and turned then, aiming and firing in his direction. The arrow flew through the air towards the General. The feathered fletching caught the bun at the top of his head, pulling hairs loose, before the tip burrowed into the tree behind him with an echoing noise.

“Mother above, you could’ve killed me!” The General shouted, face blanched. Azriel’s lip quirked up and he looked to you again, you were smiling, closed mouth but smiling, and he felt his heart grow warm at the sight. “I told you, asshole, I don’t fucking miss when I’m aiming to kill.” 

You laughed aloud, cheeks warm as you buried your face in Azriel’s chest. “I’ll go around threatening Cassian more often if it gets me a mate in the end.” The male at your side chuckled warmly and his hand found yours on his sternum. “He still talks about it, you know?” He offered with a shake of his head. “It was precisely the kind of thing Nesta would’ve done too.” 

You smiled back. “Good to know you Illyrians have a type.” He looked to you then and he smiled, eyes tracing your lips, nose, lashes, and the Winter white hair haloing your face. “Not a type, just blessings from the Mother,” he murmured softly. His hand trailed up your arm and pushing your hair off your shoulder and down your back. You blushed, warmth blooming on your chest and running up your neck to your face, painting your skin pink. 

 “Gods, who knew you had such a silver tongue,” you said chastising, looking to where his fingers played with yours as they rested on his chest. “You used to be so quiet,” you added, letting a small laugh escape you. Azriel shrugged and pushed up on an elbow as his hand left yours to run up your arm and cup your cheek. “Good to know you’re still thinking about my tongue,” he whispered before kissing you for the millionth time that night. 

It was mid-morning when Azriel ported you both to the River House. It was surprisingly empty, and you made your way to the kitchen to seek out food, still in the dress from the night before, though it was now wrinkled on your body. Rhysand had stocked the kitchen it would seem, as you found an array of fruits, vegetables, and meats in the cold storage there. 

“I guess Rhys was serious about quarantining us here,” you laughed before looking over your shoulder to find your mate, leaned against the counter, watching you with warmth. “If I cook for you again, are you going to ravish me?” You asked jokingly, pulling a knife from the block to begin prepping carrots for a quick stew.

He pressed forward then, coming behind you to push you into the marble, bringing his lips your shoulder and his hands to your belly. “I plan on ravishing you either way,” he said, lips tracing to the hollow below your ear, a spot that made you whimper as he’d found out the night before and catalogued in his head. You pressed your hips back against his, loving the feel of his body against your own.

 “Very interested in that, though I think it’ll be easier on a full stomach, so maybe go bathe while I cook,” you said, turning your head and nudging your nose into his own. He laughed again and the noise set your heart to skittering. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to having him like this, so free and warm.

You’d seen Azriel in every form. The warrior that fought with skilled precision, teeth bared as he cut down his adversaries; the Spymaster that tortured, maimed, and killed Night Court threats; the brother that took his friend’s teasing in stride, lips quirking silently as he shook his head. You’d never had him like this though, laughing and full of affection, touching and grasping so freely.

His hand found your chin and you knew he’d heard your thoughts again from the look in his eyes. His fingers stroked up your jawline, fingers pushing hair behind your ear. “There is no one in this realm, on this continent, male or female, that has as much of me as you do on any given day,” he whispered before he pushed away to stroll out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You let a shaky breath go from your chest. He was trouble. 

Later, after you’d both bathed and eaten until your bellies were full, you sat at the dining room table, sipping a glass of wine. “You asked me this morning when I knew,” he started, setting down his wine glass as his index finger began tracing circles into red table cloth next to it. “When did you know?” You laughed and took another sip of wine, you’d need it to keep up with him. “Mine’s not as violent,” you fixed him with a pointed look and he smirked.

You took a deep breath, “it was several months later, at Rita’s.” He laughed warmly in disbelief. “What?” Surely you weren’t serious? “What in the Cauldron could’ve happened at Rita’s to make you fall in love with me?” His eyes were twinkling under the fae lights. 

Mor had begged you to go and you’d told her no at least thirteen times. You’d grown fond of the blonde as had she with you. She’d helped you immensely in your first months with the Night Court. She knew what it was to be hollowed out by trauma, particularly trauma that extended from those in the Autumn Court. She also knew bad fathers. You were grateful to her and you’d opened to her in a way you’d hadn’t yet with anyone else in Rhys’ Inner Circle. 

“Please?” She tried again, “We can go into the city and get you a dress, I’ll even pay for it!” You rolled your eyes, “You won’t give up until I agree, huh?” She’d laughed then. Her laugh was the kind of full bodied female laugh you hoped you’d get back some day. “You already know me so well, Little One.” She nudged your shoulder, before patting your cheek and leaving you alone to dress for the day ahead.

Little One had started a few months prior when you poked fun at Cassian during a dinner. You’d been ready to maul the General in your first weeks, but you’d settled into a peaceful truce. He’d been talking loudly about the female he’d been with the night prior, all bravado and innuendo. “Amazing you were able to land her at all with that ego,” you’d muttered taking a sip of your wine. Amren sat across from you and her lips quirked as she looked your way in silent agreement. She and Cassian were also at odds often. Cassian slid his eyes to you and they narrowed as you feigned innocence, setting your glass down and looking to your nails. “Did you just mock me, Little One?” He asked, head tilting as he watched you pick at a cuticle. 

You met his eyes and raised a brow. “Tell me Cassian, is what they say about Illyrian wingspans true?” You said, eyes glancing to Rhysand and Azriel, both looking thrilled at this development. “Cause as I see it, you look to be outmatched.” The room went quiet before Cassian bellowed a loud laugh, bringing a hand to his chest. “Cauldron save us, she’s got jokes,” he snickered and your lips curved into a smile. He turned to you then, lips smirking. “For the record, it’s not the wingspan that matters, it’s how you use it.” His rebuttal caused you to let out a breathless laugh as you picked up your wine and rolled your eyes. 

Mor had dragged you into the shopping district of Velaris to find an appropriate dress. The first store was a bust, and the second was looking to be the same. “Come on, Little One, there has to be one you’re interested in!” She’d said, voice going a little whiny on the tail end of the sentence. You’d scanned the boutique again, and noticed a dress hanging in the far back corner that was looked like threaded starlight. “That one,” you pointed and her eyes slid to it before her lips broke into a knowing grin. “You go to the dressing room and I’ll grab it,” she offered and you’d nodded, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. 

She’d brought you the dress and you shut the curtain in her face as she laughed. You’d undressed slowly, eyes scanning skin as it appeared. Your eyes zoomed in on the heavy scarring at your legs, Gods you hated those markings. Once the dress slid on, you pulled up the zipper at the side and adjusted the bust line.

You loosed a loud breath, it was…. generous in the amount of skin it showed and the style screamed Night Court. You turned and realized the back went down to your bottom, showcasing the two dimples at the small of your back. The slit at the side came all the way to your hip. ‘Cauldron, this isn’t a dress, this is a scrap of fabric,’ you’d thought. 

You turned and opened the curtain stepping out to find Mor looking at you with an open mouth.  “Are you sure you aren’t into females?” She’d asked. “Because I’d love to keep you to myself tonight.” You’d blushed and laughed heartily. “Is it good?” You asked cautiously, turning in a circle. “Good? Little One, the males will be on their knees,” she said eyes twinkling with mischief. 

You’d bought the dress despite the insecurities and gone home the House of Wind to get dressed. Mor had sent Nuala and Cerridwen to you to help with your hair and make up and you’d thanked them profusely.

As the moon rose for the night, you stood in your quarters staring at the mirror on the wall opposite your bed. You had looked lively again, your cheeks were fuller and the hollows under your eyes were less bruised than they had been months prior. You sat on a bench at the foot of your bed and started to pull on your heels, a leg shining through the slit of the dress. 

Once you’d buckled the strap your shoes, you stood, a little wobbly. It’d nearly a year since you’d worn heels and the last time you had, you were set to be engaged to the Autumn Court princeling. You refused to dwell on that and moved toward the door, opening it and stepping into the hall.

Cassian was exiting of his room as you were shutting your door and your eyes met down the corridor. He let out a wolf whistle and began walking your way. “Well, well, well,” he started and you braced for his comment, “don’t you look pretty enough to eat.” You grimaced and looked at him before scoffing, “pig.” His laughter made your lips curve into a smile. 

You strolled down the steps to find Rhysand and Azriel waiting there. Rhysand looked to you and smiled warmly, “You clean up nice, Little One.” Azriel’s eyes found yours next and his jaw dropped, then shut quickly, muscle ticking. A gloved hand at his side set into a fist and he could hear the knuckles crack. “I think she’ll be fighting the males off tonight,” Mor piped, appearing next to you, “wouldn’t you lot agree?” 

Rhysand and Cassian hummed their agreements but Azriel’s eyes couldn’t look away from your form. The dress draped your body like liquid starlight, the slit at your hip had his fists clenching at the desire to touch. Mor walked you past the males and he caught glimpse of your exposed back and something primal reared its head shouting at him to grasp, lick, bite until you were covered in his marks. Cassian flanked the Shadowsinger and whistled low, eyes following you. “I’ll have to find her on the dance floor tonight,” he said, eyes gleaming as they traced your retreating form. Azriel, though he loved his brother dearly, wanted to rip his throat out for even glancing at you. 

Rita’s was littered with intoxicated fae. Mor grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, while Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel made their way to the section explicitly reserved for their use. As you stood at the bar with Mor, a male came up to you, leaning into your space and asking your name.

The male ventured a touch to your arm and you leaned away, disliking the overt physical attention. As he spoke, a gloved hand appeared between you and Azriel pushed his way into the space without apology or acknowledgement. “Hey, I was talking to her!” The male tried to protest loudly before Azriel turned and fixed him with a devastating look, causing the male to wilt before putting his hands up in surrender and walking away.  

You stumbled out a laugh as he turned back to you. “I think you may have hurt his feelings,” you said smiling, looking to the Shadowsinger. He eyes were already on you again, tracing your face, and hair, the long line of your neck. “That’s much too bad,” he said, signaling the bartender over and you both ordered a round of drinks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” the words came out of Azriel in a rushed whispered, as if he’d forced them out against his will. You turned to meet his eyes and your face warmed at the look there. “I was so nervous to wear this,” you breathed, “the last time I was in a dress and heels like these, I was engaged to marry a Vanserra.” You let out a small, cynical laugh. “Gods, I’m so glad I left.” 

Azriel softened then. “He didn’t deserve you, Autumn didn’t deserve you, I hope you know that,” he’d said, gloved hands laying flat on the bar top, the length of his middle finger grazing your own. You wanted to reach out to them, to ask why he wore the gloves around you, but you resisted. 

“For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’m also glad you left, I’m glad you’re here most of all.” You met his hazel eyes again and traced his face. He was likely one of the most beautiful males you’d ever seen and he was being awfully sweet with you. He looked to Rhys then, the High Lord likely speaking into his mind. He smiled turning back to you, “Rhysand says he’s also glad you’re here,” he said mockingly and rolled his eyes. You laughed, a small tinkering thing, that made Azriel’s heart beat quicken. “Thanks, Az,” you smiled broadly at him and he knew for sure and certain you would ruin him.

You turned to your drink then as the bartender sat it down in front of you. You picked it up and took a long sip. If Azriel kept looking at you like that and speaking to you in hushed tones that made your heart race, you’d need about five more of these. 

You heard him take a deep, steadying breath at your side, turned to look at him, brow furrowing slightly. You were ready to ask if he was alright when he finally spoke. “Cassian said he was going to ask you to dance tonight,” he ventured and you snorted. ‘Of course he did,’ you thought with a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head. “Would you allow me to be your first?” He asked, holding out a gloved hand. 

You looked to his hand then back to his hopeful hazel eyes, and you blinked a little slowly, a little disbelievingly. Just when you thought you figured him out, he threw you for a loop. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. As your body moved with his, you couldn’t help but wish for forever in this moment, forever in his hands, and his eyes. Mother above, you were in trouble. 

“That dress was pure sin, Little One,” Azriel smirked. “And I told you, I am quite fond of dancing.” You huffed a laugh and looked to him, a little bashful. Azriel laughed softly again. “Cassian pouted for days after that night,” he spoke, “he was mad I stole you away.” You wondered if Cassian could tell how utterly smitten you were after that night. “I think he was a little infatuated with you in those early days too.” 

You grimaced. “That’s much too bad,” you said, echoing his words from centuries prior. You stood then and stepped towards him to halt at his side, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. “I always had eyes for you, baby.” 

You trailed a hand up his arm to his shoulder, then back to the shoulder joint of his wing, tracing the bone up to the clawed crest. His breath guttered out of him as he closed his eyes, brows furrowing at the sensation that zipped down his spine and settled in his lower abdomen. 

“One more question for you,” you said softly. “No,” he growled out, “I’ve had enough questions, I want to have you again.” His eyes opened and looked to you, scarred hands grasping your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there. “One more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” you offered. He raised a brow. “Whatever I want?” He questioned and you nodded. “Even if I want to bend you over this table and take you from behind until you come all over my cock?” 

Your eyes watched his predatory gaze and a feline grin appeared on your face. You laughed again, “considering that’s a win-win, I’ll gladly trade for that.” He laughed too and rolled his eyes in fondness. “Fine,” he conceded, “one more question, mate.” His hand traced back, grasping the flesh of your ass through your thin silk housedress and you gasped, “then I get to have you in every way I want.”

You had to shake the lust from your thoughts, focusing on the question that had been circling your mind since your return to River House. “Why didn’t you to tell me of the bond?” You asked softly, hand resting on the arm that held you. He took a deep breath, he should’ve expected this eventually, but in all honesty, he’d hoped to put it off as long as possible. 

“I just mean,” you took a shaky breath, growing a little nervous. “It snapped so early for you, and I—” you swallowed, “I wouldn’t have turned you away, surely you must know that?” Your eyes found his and he saw the imploring look there, brows slanting as your eyes swam with emotions. He took a grounding breath and his hand traced up your hip to your back as he pulled you in to bury his face in the soft of your stomach. 

“I was scared,” he said, though it came out muffled. You combed fingers through his hair soothingly and he tilted his head up to face you. “You were—” he stopped himself, “you are the single most magical thing in this realm.” He spoke softly, as if he was scared he’d burst the bubble of newfound love that had surrounded the two of you in the last few weeks.

“When I was a child, my half brothers tortured me,” he started, eyes wincing. “They did this, you know,” he held up a scarred hand. You nodded, Rhysand told you of Azriel’s brothers and father years ago when the subject of Windhaven came up and how you would likely not be sent on any missions there. “For my gift with shadows, they’d called me every name under the sun, insisted I was a bastard child, beat me, shunned me, cast me out. I was alone until Rhys and his mother took me in.” Your eyes teared up when you thought of how isolated he must’ve felt, how damaged. You knew feeling well. 

“When I knew I loved you, I resolved myself as unworthy of your gaze, your touch, anything,” he sighed and his hands pulled from you to fall in his lap. “I figured I’d been alone for centuries up until that point, and it was likely I’d be alone forever.” You pulled one of his hands into your own and brought the knuckles to your lips. “I love you,” you said softly, lips resting against the marred skin there, “I hope you know that.”

He looked to you and he smiled, a small watery smile as his eyes closed and he nodded his head. There was that gift again. “You know,” he said, “more than your beauty, or strength, I admire your courage and vulnerability. I think that’s what scared me the most.” He spoke softly again, wanting to preserve the shroud of gentle love that surrounded the two of you. 

“I saw how you were with Mor and Amren. How you cared for Cass, despite his explosive anger when Rhys went Under the Mountain for fifty years. How you attended Rhys when he returned in shambles, traumatized and broken.” He looked to you, eyes shining. “You took it all in stride with such….. care and endless love and I—” he paused, bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of your heart, of your attention, so I took what I could get. Your glances, your smiles, the teasing at dinners. I took it all and I made myself content with it,” he shuttered out a fragile, broken breath, eyes falling to the shadows that gathered at his feet attempting to console their master. 

“I’ve loved you in secret for two centuries, Little One, I’ve loved you so much my chest ached and I thought I would die from the unsung bond that resided there. My soul would know yours in any life. At the ends of the earth in total darkness, it would still find you.” He let out a shuddering breath, “you’re the other half of me.” His eyes found yours then and the look there made you feel overwrought with emotion.

You and Azriel had been friends for two centuries. You laughed and cried together. You’d shared meals and secrets, dances and fleeting glances, little chaste touches. You’d told him of your father, of Beron, showed him your scars. You’d pined for him for just as long and to know he’d silently yearned for you in return, your heart felt like it might break apart.

“The bond snapped for me during the war,” you offered him a small secret of your own and his eyes found yours, going wide at the revelation.

The second war with Hybern had been a brutal thing. Feyre and Cassian had taken to recruiting help out of the Ancient Prison on the northern shore of the Night Court due to Prythian’s limited numbers. You’d known it was a suicide mission going in and you’d nearly been right. You’d fought alongside death gods and monsters alike in a battle that would be legend for ages to come.

“I wrote you a letter before we left for battle,” another secret, but for him, you’d bare your soul. “I was going to tell you then,” you continued, “I’d been in love with you for 189 years at that point. I was so far gone for you but I’d assumed, that if you wanted me, I would’ve known. You would’ve said something, anything. So I put it all in a letter, worried I wouldn’t return alive.” His breath hitched, remembering the sight of you impaled on a sword, bleeding out in his arms.  He’d taken the soldier’s head off their body as penance and it still didn’t feel like enough. You let out a small gurgling laugh, throat tight, eyes wet with tears. “Sometimes I can’t believe I did.” 

You took a steadying breath and leaned to kiss his forehead, his eyes closing from the contact, mouth humming. You leaned your cheek on the crown of his head, your thumb rubbing soothing circles in the space behind his ear. His hands went around to your back, nose and cheek resting against the cradle of your chest as he listened to your heart, still beating strong beneath. The two of you were the sort of image that artists carved into marble, the picture of lovers so inseparably bound that they were one eternally, in every life. 

“In that letter I apologized for not telling you sooner, said I didn’t need the Cauldron to know it was you my soul sang for. That you were the one the stars had fated me to meet.” He clenched his eyes shut from where his head rested on your rib cage. Every word you uttered was like a poultice to his damaged soul, filling the cracks that had been there since his adolescence. 

He was wrong when he’d thought you’d ruin him. No, you’d save him, from the darkness that encroached his mind, the insecurities that lingered there. You were a flower blooming against all odds in the shadows, and he’d do anything for you. All his wasted centuries of dreaming had been given a name and form in you.

“I’m glad I ran from Autumn that day, glad it was Rhys that found me in the wilds, glad it was the Night Court that saved me, but more than anything, I am glad that every step I’ve taken in this life has led me straight to you.” Your hand dragged forward, over his cheek, to gently tip his chin up to face your gaze. “May you never doubt the depths of my love for you.” You kissed his forehead then before moving your lips to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose. His eyes fell shut and his hands came to hold on tightly to your wrists for fear he’d float away. You kissed his cheek, and eyelids, before making your way to his mouth. 

This kiss was just as electrifying as the first and he pressed his insistent mouth to yours desperately. He pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth and took your gasp as the opportunity to slip his tongue against your own. He could kiss you for a millennia and he would not get enough. He wanted all that you had to give and everything after that too. Nothing, not even flying, could compare to how his heart sped when you kissed him like this. He poured centuries of yearning into it.

He pulled off of your mouth and kissed the corner of your lips before leaning back to gaze into your eyes. “I’ll need to tell Rhysand not to expect us back for a few months,” he said, hand coming up to brush a stray hair behind the shell of your ear. Your brain, still two paces behind from that kiss, registered what he was saying and you let out a breathless laugh. “Months? Thought the frenzy was a few weeks?” You replied, still smiling, tears drying and he shrugged, fingertips tracing the skin at your collarbone. “I’ve got two centuries of love to make up for,” he stated softly before smiling in a feral, cunning way, “and I plan on taking my time.” 

Azriel ported you to the bedroom and you’d laughed, “I can walk you know.” He smiled, leaning down, kissing your cheek. “Save your energy, Little One.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you to stand between his legs. He allowed himself to look at you, unhurried, a little predatory. You did the same, eyes passing over tanned skin and freckles, tattoos and scars as your gaze made it’s way down to his hips, where you notice his length pressing tightly against the front of his pants. Your eyes trace back up to his, cheeks a little pink, only to find him smirking. 

“Are you ever going to be sated?” You laughed. You pulled the hem of your dress up to lean over him and settle a knee next to his hip as you crawled into his lap. He hummed, pulling your hips to his own. He traced his nose along the skin of your throat, inhaling your scent, committing to memory as he nosed the silk strap of your housedress, pushing it down your shoulder and pressing his mouth to the skin there. “For you? Never.” His tongue laved at the length of your throat, as he made his way up before bringing his mouth to yours.

This kiss was slower than the one you’d shared in the dining room. Tongues entwining, teeth biting. He dove deeper, sucking against your tongue before licking along the bow of your upper lip. He rocked his hips up to meet your own, his cock sliding against your slit in a way that had you gasping. His hand pushed your gown up over your hips to your waist and his gaze fixated on the center of your hips, you’d forgone underwear after your bath. “No panties?” He breathed into your mouth. “Maybe I should’ve taken you on the dining room table after all.” 

You laughed, rutting your hips against his own, loving the sound that rumbled in his chest. You pulled the little silk dress up and over your head, baring yourself entirely to his gaze. “There will time for that,” you said, voice laced with promise, “but I’d like for you to take me in a bed, properly.” He gave a little laugh then, bringing his face to your own, teasing at your mouth again. “Under the stars wasn’t romantic enough?” His hands found your hips and fingertips pressed into the flesh there. You were sure you’d be bruised all over come tomorrow. 

He leaned back pulling your hips up his abdomen. “C’mere,” he commanded, jerking his head in instruction as he laid flat upon the bed, wings spreading in full. He looked like a god this way, but the way he looked at you, muscles rippling as he tensed, jaw ticking, hair debauched, love bites down the tanned column of his throat from your mouth, eyes heavy lidded with lust; if he was a god then certainly you were his goddess. He growled then the noise escaping him unbidden as he hauled you higher to his chest, your hand shooting out to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“You are a goddess and I am but a hopeless disciple,” his voice had pitched deep with want, desire alight in his eyes and you thought you might never tire of seeing him this hungry for you. His fingers dug into your thighs and he hooked your knees to pull you higher. “Let me worship you until I find absolution.” He pulled you to his chin, teeth nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs. His found your eyes again and he nodded to you. “You’re going to sit on my face, sweet one, and I am going to feast on you like the goddess you are.” 

Your breath left you in a shuttering broken gasp, and you leaned up, shuffling the last few inches. His arms wrapped around your legs, caging you to his face as hands came around to open your cunt to his view. He let out a primal noise that had the air leaving your lungs in pant and your hands grasped the headboard in some pitiful attempt at grounding yourself. He nosed your clit before pulling you down on his mouth, suckling at you like a man starved. 

His tongue pressed flat against your clit and you thought you might break apart. You were sensitive from the night before and you had to actively try not to rock down against his face. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled you forward, hands grasping your hips and rutting you against his hot mouth. You couldn’t help the shuddering moan that left your throat and he hummed along with you, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine. 

He circled his tongue in a pattern, quick flicks then slow drags of friction that had pleasure zipping through you until your thighs were twitching, nails digging into the wood of the headboard, hips rocking on his mouth. He nosed at your clit as his tongue slipped down to circle your opening, collecting the wetness that gathered there, groaning at your taste. His lips returned to your clit and he sucked it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, speeding the flicking of his tongue until your hands were shaking and your moans keened to a higher octave. 

“Azriel,” you gasped, a trembling hand found his hair, nails scratching. “Az — fucking Gods.” You looked down to him between your thighs and he watched you, the definition of sin. His cheeks had grown pink, brows furrowed, hazel eyes gone molten as he nuzzled his face into you. He unhanded your thigh to slide back to your ass, fingernails digging into the ample flesh there before he released it and his open palm came into fierce contact with the cheek. You jolted at the impact and the sound that left you was the highest, most trembling whine he’d heard come out of you. He catalogued it in his mind for later. 

His hand soothed the skin at your behind before smacking the skin again, the contact rippling across the flesh like a tiny earthquake. Your hips tilted against his chin faster, more desperate and your moans grew closer together, a little more frantic as you felt yourself approaching your peak. His tongue circled you again before he sucked the button into his mouth and began a steady, insistent pattern. 

You could feel the pleasure focusing, your lower belly tightening.  “Az— I swear I’m—” you gasped and your head fell back, exposing your chest and neck to his greedy view. “I’m going to come, baby,” you whined deep, hips canting in tight circles, desperate for release. He hummed an affirmation and his hands grasped your hips to guide your through it. Your release hit and the moan that left you was shattering.

You leaned back, hands finding purchase on his chest, as he pressed kisses to your thighs. “Gods,” you gasped, falling to his side as you moved off of him and pressed a hand to your chest, catching your breath. “Fuck me,” your eyes shut for a moment and you felt his lips pressing tender kisses to your eyelids. He kissed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, before whispering devastation there. “I told you my love, I want to take you apart slow.”

His lips came to your chest, pressing a kiss to the jugular notch at the base of your throat between the clavicles. “There is no war,” kiss, “no mission,” another kiss, moving south to the globe of your breast, “no threat this time.” He breathed into your sternum, tongue tracing the skin of your cleavage. 

You were right that Azriel was mouthy. Mother above, now that the gates had opened, he was bent on taking everything from you and you would let him. You would let him shatter you to pieces, trusting he’d put you back together again. 

“You’re wearing too much,” you complained, fingers pulling at the waist of his trousers, which seemed to have grown impossibly tight around his hardness. Your hand pushed under the band and fingers grasped him firmly, his gasp escaping directly into the skin over your heart. He rutted into your hand, mouth coming up to your own as he kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue.

You pulled back from the kiss and fixed him with an imploring look. “Can I put my mouth on you now?” You asked softly, batting your eyelashes a bit, just shy of begging. He felt desire rip through him, his cock giving a jerk. A growl released from his throat. “As much as I want you on your knees for me,” he breathed deeper. “As much as I want to fuck this pretty little mouth,” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you leaned forward to pull it between your lips, tonguing the scarred skin there as you sucked. 

His eyes fixated on the action, pupils blown wide.  He pulled his thumb from your mouth and spread his hand to grasp your neck at the height of your throat, “I thought our bargain was every way that I wanted you?” He watched your eyes flutter as he squeezed from the sides, your breath hitching, cunt growing wetter. He could smell your arousal and the feral need of the newly minted bond had him feeling utterly primal. “And right now, I want you on your hands and knees, begging as I take you from behind.” His voice had pitched deep, and you thought you might never recover from this. 

His hand traced down to your wrist, pulling it from his cock and then he patted your ass. “Be a good girl for me.” Your breath came out shaky and you nodded, scrambling to turn around and bend down to present yourself for him. A pleased hum settled in his chest as he stood to slip off his trousers before kneeling behind you. He ran his eyes up the expanse of your back, the scars that now resided there. He’d kill anyone who threatened you again, he’d take hands from their bodies if they touched you.

He watched your shoulders roll as you adjusted your weight, and he was reminded of every backless gown you’d worn in the last two centuries. How he had never allowed himself to touch you in the way he wanted.

He ran a scarred hand up the center of your back, leaning forward and grasping your neck from behind, bringing you up and into the long line of his front. His nose trailed your shoulder and his lips found the spot below your ear again. His teeth came in contact with the flesh there, biting then pressing his tongue into the skin to soothe the sting. The little whimper you let out made him smile, he loved you like this. His other hand reached down to guide his cock to your core, hips dragging the length through to slick there. His brain catalogued each sound that you made, he was mapping you out slowly, learning your body and memorizing all. 

The hand holding your neck released its grip, and he pushed you back forward, your hands trembled as they came to hold your weight.

Before leaving you, his fingers gathered your hair and he wrapped the length of it around his hand once before fisting and pulling, causing a low moan to escape you. “Hold on, little mate.” His voice ground out and he guided himself into your warm cunt, pulling back once, then twice to work you open until he sheathed himself fully.

His hips were flush against the flesh of your ass as he ground in and your breath began to come in pants. You were so in over your head and you loved it. He laughed, ‘I heard that, my love,’ he spoke into your mind. ‘Let me know if you want to stop.’ You nearly laughed aloud. ‘As if,’ you repeated your words from the night before.

His hand tugged at your hair in response as he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, hard and deep. Your back arched and your arms threatened collapsed. He began a slow and steady pace, rutting to the hilt and pulling out before slamming back home, skin slapping against skin. You could hear the loud suck of your cunt on every pull, the noise itself was desperately erotic, and Azriel fucking loved it. He wanted you like this like always. He wanted to stay in the warmth of your cunt for the rest of his days. He picked up his pace and groaned when he felt you clench around him as a wanton moan escaped you. 

His hand released your hair and he leaned over your form, kissing your shoulders, holding you tightly as he pushed back to the hilt and ground in, small cants of his hips causing your breath to tremble.

“Azriel, baby, you’re gonna ruin me,” you spoke quietly, head falling forward. He laughed darkly, biting at the skin at the top of your spine. His hand grasped the front of your throat and brought you back up into him, mouthing at your shoulder. “Tell me you’re mine,” he ground out, hips pushing faster. His other hand found its way to your front, tracing down your soft stomach to rub slow circles at your clit. “Tell me you’re mine and let me fuck you into oblivion.” 

You groaned feeling your orgasm crawling up your spine, cunt tensing. “I’ve been yours for two centuries,” you gasped out, breathless, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. He growled out something primal, but you continued, delirious with pleasure as his fingers and cock broke you apart. “I’ll give you anything.” His fingers tightened at your neck and he slammed to the hilt, grinding in. 

“Anything?” He questioned, voice shaky with need. “Would you let me take you apart? Would you let me ruin your sweet cunt daily? Would you let me fuck a baby into you?” Your mind blanked and your voice pitched into a deep moan, a base desire possessing you. “Yes,” you nodded, breathless. “All of it,” you gasped, “anything for you, mate.” His eyes pinched shut, a low whine escaped somewhere from the pits of him. Mother above. His fingers squeezed your neck and he picked up the pace, fucking you faster. You shook with each impact of his hips, your breath leaving you in small whines. 

The scarred tips of his fingers worked your clit faster. “You’ll give me anything?” He questioned again, breathless, pace faltering as his own release tightened at the base of spine. “Come for me, my love, come with me.” Your breath caught at your throat as your cunt tightened impossibly around him and he groaned deep. You called his name as your climax hit and he keened a low whine, hips grinding into you, his seed painting your walls. 

He released your throat and gave a shaky laugh as he grasped your chin to find your mouth. The kiss was utterly depraved and your walls fluttered again, making him groan into your mouth. You pulled back and your eyes found his over your shoulder. “A baby, huh?” You spoke, voice a little wobbly. He wanted to shrink under the weight of your gaze, the question there. “Not yet,” he spoke softly, “but if you do decide to gift me with a child, I’ll be the luckiest male alive.” You smiled and kissed him, softer this time, heart singing at the promise there.  

He pulled out of you and let you collapse against the bed, rolling over to rest at your back. His eyes found your cunt and he watched with rapt obsession as his release leaked from you. You traced his gaze and a laugh escaped you. “Come here, my love,” you spoke softly, opening your arms. “I want to get some rest before you go feral again.”

He smiled, laughing lightly before crawling up the bed to where you awaited him. He settled into your embrace, head resting on your chest while his restless fingers began idly tracing the skin of your arm. Your fingers set to combing through the strands of his hair and his eyes closed, pleased with gentle intimacy of the action. “I love you,” he spoke softly, exhaustion beginning to creep in on him. You smiled, fingers trailing to his back, caressing the skin at the base of his wing. “As I love you,” you whispered, “more than anything.” He hummed and nuzzled to the skin of your chest as darkness overtook him. 

[megwritesriddles]

Heavenly Torture ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 11 - Teasing & Degradation. After Hogwarts, Reader and Neville end up working together at Noltie's Botanical Novelties. Reader soon discovers she holds an unexpected power over Neville, one she'll have fun exerting over him at her whim.

Tags: Teasing, Degradation, Oral sex (m receiving), Neediness, Begging, Virgin!Neville, Sub!Neville, Dom!Reader, Slytherin!Reader, Set post Battle of Hogwarts, Coworkers to lovers (??).

Word count: 4.8k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I know I'm running a day behind right now, I'll try my best to catch up when I can (hopefully monday)!! Another day, another submissive pathetic man... lol!! Also why did this end up so long... all this backstory for what?? Why do I keep doing this?? Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Getting the job at Noltie’s Botanical Novelties, the garden shop on Diagon Alley, had been one of the most relieving moments of your life. Not only did you have an income secured, but they’d hired you despite you having been in Slytherin. It seems silly for you to have been worried about this, given that people are starting to heavily advocate against stereotyping based on houses, but that didn’t mean it had actually stopped happening. At the moment, Slytherins were quite radioactive. Less than a year out from the war, all Slytherins near your age were assumed to be Death Eaters who just escaped consequence based on their age. This, of course, was not true for most of you, and certainly not for you. You’d been on the right side from… well, perhaps not the start, it takes time to shake your upbringing, but probably from some time in the fifth year. However, most people only remembered you as a Slytherin, and that was a decidedly bad thing to be currently. You knew you should have made more appearances at Dumbledore’s Army meetings, but back then you were facing the same issue, avoiding the meetings because when you did go, people would be distrusting of you because of the colour of your tie. Now people barely remembered that you’d been a member at all. It was frustrating beyond belief, but you just had to keep going. 

The job at Noltie’s was an undoubted blessing, just a few years ago it would have been a no-brainer for you to get the job, given your expertise, but this year it had truly felt like it wouldn’t happen for you. When you’d gone in to pick up your uniform about a week before starting, Edward Noltie himself had confessed to having been a Slytherin himself in his school days. You wouldn’t have guessed it, the kookie old man certainly reminded you more of the types that come out of Hufflepuff, but you told yourself to stop stereotyping, you had learned its inaccuracies over and over by now. It amused you slightly how much he tried to separate himself from the Slytherin label, only claiming the identity in the past tense, while most Gryffindors were likely to wear their Gryffindor scarves until at least their 200s. You thanked him anyway for his understanding, emphasising once again that you’d had no ties to the Death Eaters. As you were leaving with the bag containing your uniform, he stopped you.

“We actually have another employee with us from your year group at Hogwarts, a very talented young man, instrumental in winning the war, we’re lucky to have him, really. Joined a few months ago,” Noltie chuckled. You smiled and nodded awkwardly over your shoulder. You knew exactly who he was referring to. 

There’d never really been any doubt in your mind that Noltie had been talking about Neville Longbottom, but the suspicion is confirmed immediately on your first day. You walked in, hair neatly up as was required (less for aesthetic reasons and more for safety against the various plants stocked that had a tendency to thrash), your uniform tailored to fit you perfectly, and saw him behind the counter. You had been dreading this moment since you realised you’d be working with him. You knew what he’d say to you, how he would call you brave for going against your house, how much he appreciated your efforts during the war, things like that, and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to it. You just wanted to stop thinking about the war, and all the things you’d had to do to survive, but it seemed too much to ask. You took a deep breath and approached him and he did just that. With a serious and sympathetic expression, he began to thank you and commend you. He stared quite intensely at you as he spoke, which made you admittedly uncomfortable, your eyes flickered around the store as he spoke. 

“We barely had any Slytherins in the D.A. and I know some people gave you a hard time about it, so I think it’s–” he continued in his solemn voice. You squirmed in discomfort and decided to cut him off. 

“Look, Longbottom, all the same to you, yeah? You’re a war hero and all that, so… that’s great, congratulations! Can you show me how the till works now?” you huffed. He blinked in surprise at your little outburst, before flushing slightly, clearly having realised he’d made you uncomfortable in some way, even if he’d only been trying to compliment you. 

“Sorry, err… yeah…” he cleared his throat, showing you over to the till on the counter at the back of the store. You walked in front of him toward it and when you turned back to face him, you saw his eyes flick up and his flush deepen a little. You realise with a start that he’d been looking at your ass as you walked. These uniform trousers really were tailored perfectly, so you were sure he’d gotten a good view. You just smiled to yourself and filed the information away for later as he started to explain the machine to you. 

The next few weeks go surprisingly well. Sure, you’re only working the till and shop floor rather than actually doing any research or fieldwork, but at least you’re in your desired field, and the work is quite easy. The shop is never terribly busy, and the people who do come in like to spend a while browsing and contemplating, meaning you get to tell them all you know about the plants they’re deciding between, which you find quite fun. Neville works mainly in the backroom, counting stock, moving boxes, and maintaining the plants that can’t be kept on the shop floor because they’re too dangerous or require certain temperature conditions. You help with inventory, letting him know what’s running low on the shelves and making notes of what needs to be ordered for Mr Noltie. Mostly, you’re out of each other’s ways, but that doesn’t mean you’re not highly aware of each other. 

You knew Neville had changed over the years, every girl who’d been at Hogwarts was aware of it. You remembered quiet nights while the D.A. had been hiding out in the Room of Requirement, when a bunch of the girls would get together for some girl talk, trying hard to feel a sense of normalcy. Lavender Brown’s idea, which initially seemed silly, actually raised spirits quite a lot. You joined in, even though people were still rather wary of you, being one of only two Slytherins in the room, you mainly listened because of this. The girls huddled together in one corner of the room, while the boys chatted about who knows what in the other, and gossiped about the boys. There was hardly time for romance in the conditions you were in, which is perhaps why so much of it was happening, forced to stay together in one big room and fearing for your lives, you had overheard a lot you wish you never had. Neville ended up being the subject of a few of these conversations. He had changed a lot, becoming taller, broader and more handsome. He had also taken the role of the leader of the D.A., and many of the girls admitted that they quite liked the authoritative voice he used, which made everyone tease and giggle. He was nothing like the timid little boy he’d been for the first few years at Hogwarts, he was a man now, a strong, handsome man. However, no one ever reported any sort of action with him like they did with the other boys. At the time, he became sort of untouchable, which was odd considering he was Neville Longbottom.

These days, he was looking even better. His face was no longer so marred by the constant scrunch of stress as it had been during the war. He’d grown out his hair a little, rather than keeping it quite as short as he had during the war. He overall looked healthier, and even more muscular now that he was able to eat properly, his skin looking less pale and dull. Days of moving and stacking boxes in the backroom gave you plenty of time to subtly watch his muscles. He really was handsome now, though he didn’t seem to even realise this himself. Occasionally, when he’d be bringing stock out front for you to shelve, there’d be a woman in the store who would begin to flirt with him. He always seemed baffled and out of his depth, never flirting back and just trying to escape.

“What was that all about?” he asks you once, poking his head out of the backroom when she leaves. This woman had come onto him particularly strong, trying to touch his arm and invite him to the Leaky Cauldron. 

“She was flirting with you,” you chuckle, sorting the coins into the till. He scoffs.

“No, she wasn’t,”

“Yes, she was,” you laugh in disbelief. He chews his lip.

“Only because of what I did during the war,” he dismisses, fiddling with his wand in his apron pocket. It amuses you how insecure he is. But he is partially right, he’s become a bit of a celebrity in the wizarding world, thanks to Harry Potter’s insistence on mentioning Neville’s contributions every time he’s interviewed about the war. Sometimes you think it’s selfishly motivated, wanting the world to focus on someone other than him so he can be left alone, and dumping it on poor shy Neville.

“That could be true I suppose, but I bet she’d still let you shag her,” you grin at him. Neville splutters.

“I… I don’t…” he runs his finger through the collar of his shirt. You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying teasing him like this. “That’s not… I wouldn’t do that…” he swallows thickly. 

You’d discovered quickly that you had a certain power over Neville. At first, it was catching him occasionally staring. You’d be leaning on the counter, your ass jutting out slightly as you scribble down inventory notes and you’d glance at the door to the backroom, spotting him peering through the glass door. He’d immediately blush beet red and look away, clearly ashamed to have been caught staring at you. It was sweet, in a way, because most guys didn’t seem to have any shame in ogling at you, at least Neville seemed to know he shouldn’t be doing it, even if he couldn’t stop himself. Slowly, you start leaving more and more of your shirt buttons undone, revealing glimpses of your cleavage. You revel in the way his eyes constantly stray to you as he brings you boxes, taking shaky breaths as you bend over to pick up the little plant pots from the box and organise them onto the shelves. Whenever you talk, you take to standing just a little too close. His height gives you a perfect view down your top, and although he tries his best not to, he takes advantage of this fact often, his eyes flicking down and then his face going red. You like to innocently ask him if he’s feeling warm, which makes him stammer. It’s a bit of fun to fill your days, and quite an ego boost too. Every quiet moment in the shop you take to showing yourself off somehow, or even just chatting to him, which seems to fluster him too.

“You wouldn’t shag her? I thought she was cute…” you tease. He goes a deeper shade of red.

“She’s… it’s not… uh…” he stumbles. You smile, leaning yourself onto the counter in a way you know shows off your ass. His eyes flick immediately down your body and he goes redder, success. “I don’t… shag…” he coughs, looking mortified. 

“What? Never? But you’re the saviour of the wizarding world!” you taunt, pretending to be shocked, when really it had become abundantly clear not long into working with him that despite how much his looks had changed, and his confidence in every other area, women still made him unbearably anxious, especially you. 

“I- I mean I…” he stutters and then straightens up. “This is none of your business,” he asserts shakily. You shrug.

“Just curious about you,” you smile flirtatiously, watching as he blushes once more and avoids your eyes. “Do you never want to shag? Some people are like that and it’s perfectly fine–” 

“No! I… uh… I do want… oh Merlin!” he groans, burying his face in his hands. You press on, pretending not to realise how uneasy he is, delighting in his discomfort. 

���Well, then what was wrong with that girl? She was cute… more than willing…” you taunt, taking a few slow steps toward him now. 

“She just… it’s not… I can’t just…” he stammers, eyes following you until you’re right in front of him. You catch his eyes flicking down to your cleavage. You smile. 

“Are you a virgin, Neville?” you ask bluntly. He twitches anxiously.

“I’m not answering that,” he squeaks, but you both know that it’s answer enough. He sighs, seeing the smug way you’re smiling at him. “It’s just… the only girl I’ve ever liked enough to do that with didn’t feel the same, she… never wanted to do that sort of thing with anyone… like you were just talking about,” he mumbles, avoiding your eye.

“Luna?” you hum. He just nods. You’d heard about that through friends, his wartime confession and her confession that she did not experience romantic or sexual feelings for anyone. To many people, it had seemed a completely foreign concept. You imagined that, even though he’d been understanding, it had probably felt like another blow to his confidence. 

“It’s… that’s over now… she’s my friend and I respect her… I don’t feel that way about her anymore…” he rambles. His eyes flicker over your face. You believe him, you touch his arm, making him tense. 

“You poor thing,” you coo gently, rubbing your thumb over the bare skin of his arm, feeling the muscle underneath. “You must feel pathetic, saviour of the wizarding world, women lining up, and yet you’re still a virgin,” he jolts slightly, not expecting your words. He feels confused, your tone is sweet and soothing, but your words are insulting. 

“I- I don’t, I’m fine,” he stammers, his cheeks red as he looks at you cautiously. What are you playing at? You pout and tilt your head. 

“Poor baby,” you coo again, making him nervous. 

“Why are you–?” he cut off when the bell above the door jingles, signalling a customer entering. You pull your hand away with a teasing smile, he just stares a little dumbly at you as you return to the till and greet the customer. He can’t help his eyes from straying to your ass, perfectly hugged by your uniform trousers. He’s never felt this crazy before, this overtaken by lust. He wants you and something about your faux-pity has made it worse. He hadn’t felt this way about Luna, he’d liked her first and foremost, he never ogled her like this, never felt this maddened by her simple presence. He forces himself to return to his work in the backroom. 

You torture him the rest of the day. He knows you’re playing at something, but he’s not quite sure what. You keep flashing him mockingly sympathetic glances, showing off your body more than usual, touching him. You’re making excuses to come into the backroom, you’ve never been in here so many times in one shift before, perhaps even ever. Leaning over his shoulders, touching his back, stretching up to the top shelves in front of him. He’s oblivious, but he’s not completely blind and while he’s suspected before that you might have taken to teasing him, now he’s sure. After trying fruitlessly to avoid you most of the day, he gives in toward the end, letting himself admire your body and enjoy your closeness. He’s had a few relentless flirts at his neck since graduating from Hogwarts, but you feel different. Most girls flirt with him because they think he’s something special, something big that will help them earn fame and get them in the Daily Prophet. You flirt like you think he’s a pathetic little puppy dog, and perhaps he should take offence from it, but instead, it makes him need you even more. Because it’s what he is, he’s not big and strong when it comes to this, he feels small and he needs someone who understands that, which you seem to, in your own roundabout way.

He helps you close up the shop, at your request, which is something he only usually does on particularly busy days, yet he knows the question is coming. You pout at him sweetly and ask for help and he comes running. As a thank you, you lean over as you count up the day's purchases, emphasising your chest and not commenting when he stares and blushes. He wouldn’t mind being compensated like this more often. He sweeps up the soil that’s accumulated on the floor from the various pots being moved around. Technically it’s your job, but how can he say no when you look at him like that and push your tits together just so?

You’re still double-checking the accounts when he goes into the back room again. He checks on all the special plants, making sure nothing is wrong, before moving toward the little cupboards in the corner of the room. He washes his hands and unties his apron slowly. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he sighs. You’ve been driving him crazy today. The subtle way you mocked him made him so needy for you even though he should hate you for it, he didn’t want to psychoanalyse that. He hears you enter but does his best to ignore you, you never usually talk at the end of your shifts, usually too tired and eager to get home to bother small talking. You wash your hands and remove your apron too, hanging it up by the door, your name tag facing forward. You feel his eyes on your ass again, which makes you smile to yourself. 

“Is that why you stare at me so much?” you taunt, being purposefully vague. You glance over your shoulder at him. He’s bright red and chewing his lip. 

“What?” he croaks. 

“Because you’re a virgin? Is that why you stare so much? My ass in these trousers is the best view you’ve been allowed?” you mock, cooing as if you’re being sympathetic. He hates that you know, but he knows he hasn’t at all been subtle enough for it to be a shock. He just takes a shaky breath.

“I’m so-sorry, really… I don’t—“ he pulls nervously at his shirt. Godric it’s hot in here. You stalk closer.

“Poor thing, can’t control yourself around me, can you, hm?” you ridicule him, stalking closer with those dark seductive eyes. He realises you’re backing him into a wall as he takes a clumsy step back, moments away from hitting the hard surface. He swallows hard and you come closer, pressing your chest to his, emphasising the curve of your breasts. He can’t help but look, even if only for a split second. “Can you?” you prompt again, your voice lower. 

“No,” he chokes. You laugh, low and mocking. 

“No… you can’t control yourself around me… you pathetic little thing,” you finally backed him against the wall. He looks nervous, but you can feel his hardening arousal against your stomach. You shift yourself slightly, making him gasp and harden even more. You look up at him, smirking, the irony of belittling him in this way doesn't even matter, because you feel powerful and he feels small in this moment. You reach up and trace his cheek, making him shiver and his eyes flutter. “Poor little loser,” he whines loudly at that, and you watch carefully to see if you’ve actually hurt his feelings or not. When his eyes flicker open again, his pupils are wildly dilated and he looks desperate. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I am,” he whimpers. You’re surprised to hear him talk, but you let him, caressing his cheek in a mocking gesture. “I don’t want to be pathetic but I am, I can’t— do this sort of stuff,” he laments. “What kind of freak am I? Getting off to you calling me a loser?” you giggle at him and he laughs slightly too, looking down at the ground, not before glancing once more at your tits. 

“You just want someone to see you for who you are and want you anyway, not put you on some pedestal,” you hum. He blinks at you. That actually… made sense. He glances up at you. “Isn’t that pathetic of you?” you tease with a smile and you both laugh a little. 

“Yeah, Godric… I really am pathetic,” he chuckles quietly, watching you. 

“A complete loser,” you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him. He squeaks, taken completely off guard by your lips on his. You fist your hands into the material of his shirt, forcing him to lean down to your level to kiss you. He kisses back, desperate and shaky. He pants into the kiss, already feeling a little dizzy. Your hand is reaching down and brushing feather-light against the bulge in his trousers before he can register what’s going on. His hips stutter and he whines against your lips. “So pitiful, barely even touching you and you’re whining,” you mock, brushing your fingers up and down the bulge, slow and teasing. His hands come to grip at your waist, exhaling shakily against you. “So needy,” you chuckle, pulling back and pouting at him. 

“Y-yeah,” his eyes flit all over your face. You smirk up at him, trailing your hands down his body as you move to kneel in front of him. He gasps, his hands falling to his sides, chest heaving. He stares down at you, wide-eyed. He mumbles your name in question, wondering if this is really happening. You reach up, still smirking and pop to the button of his trousers. “Ah… oh Merlin…” he exhales, his eyes closing. You gently tug his trousers down and then lean forward, nuzzling your nose against the bulge in his boxers. You watch as his face twists in pleasure, a strangled gasp on his lips. He leans his head back against the wall as you press barely there kisses along his twitching length through the fabric. “This can’t be happening right now,” he pants, pushing his hips towards your face. 

“Don’t you want it to?” you tease, gently licking the wet spot on the fabric, making him gasp. 

“I— yes I want it but—this doesn’t happen… to me…” he groans as you slip down his boxers, springing him free. He stares down nervously now, no one has seen him like this before. You just smirk up at him, gently massaging his thighs. 

“You want it?” you taunt, gently blowing on his length, making him twitch and buck. 

“Nngh— yes,”

“Then beg me,” you grin. “Show me how pathetic you are for me,” he stares down at you, chest heaving, heart pounding so hard you can watch his pulse. He should feel humiliated, but the pre-cum dripping from his tip tells the both of you the reality. You lean up, placing soft open-mouthed kisses against his length, making him inhale sharply. “Beg me,” you sing-song between kisses. 

“P-please,” he gasps. “Please, I’m pathetic, I need this so bad… I’ve never– ah–!” you cut him off by licking a stripe up his length. He dissolves into a string of shaky moans as you wrap your lips around his tip, softly suckling. He’s never felt this amazing before. He fights to open his eyes and look down at you, needing the visual of you doing this committed to his memory desperately, even though he knows it will likely haunt his every waking thought from today onwards. You look smug, even on your knees in front of him, and he knows you have him wrapped around your finger. He tries uselessly to dig his nails into the wall for purchase, watching as you slowly envelop more and more of him into the heavenly heat of your mouth. Your head bobs slowly, torturously slow, up and down the length of him. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you take a gentle hold of with your hand. Your tongue swirls and laves against him within your mouth, making his hips buck toward you. You immediately withdraw, making him sob. 

“You just can’t control yourself, can you?” you chastise harshly. “Needy and brainless,” he nods along because he really can’t help but think you’re right.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll control myself, I will, please… I need you,” he wails. You look unimpressed, slowly teasing your hand up and down his shaft. He whines, melting against the wall. “Please…” he whispers. His voice is entirely wrecked and he already looks thoroughly debauched by you, you find the image exciting. When he glances down at you with those pleading wide eyes, you can’t deny him any longer. As a final teasing act, you lean in and gently kitten lick at his slit for a moment, tasting the salty sweetness accumulating there. You feel him trying to twitch in your hand, his head falling back again and desperate groans leaving his throat. You take him as deep down into your throat as he will go, gagging just a little, and start to bob your head again. His fingers curl, and you can tell he wants to grab your hair, but he’s being good, you keep in mind to tell him he was good later. Your lips slide up and down his length, using your tongue to swirl and add an extra layer of stimulation. He’s very vocal, whining, whimpering, groaning, completely ruined. You stare up at him as you gently swallow around him. His eyes squeeze further shut and his hips cant forward, making you gag a little, but you do it again. He gasps loudly and his hands start to flail, smacking against the wall. You only realise he was trying to warn you between strangled moans when you feel the warm spurt of his release in your mouth. You swallow it down as he frantically withdraws himself from you, crying as he rides out the feeling of his orgasm, his legs shaking. He feels like he’s left his body and ascended to heaven, this was why all his friends were so crazy about sex. He got it now. Once he’s returned to himself a little, he falls to his knees in front of you. “I’m so sorry, I tried to warn you but I felt so good, I-” he fusses. “I’m so sorry, th-thank you,” he whimpers, wiping a tiny bit of cum from the corner of your mouth. “Thank you,”

“It’s fine,” you dismiss him as he holds your face and thanks you over and over. It amuses you how wrecked he is. “It’s alright, Neville,” you chuckle in disbelief, leaning forward and pecking his lips. He can vaguely taste himself on your lips, even without you opening your mouth, and it makes him groan. He chases your lips as you pull away, opening his eyes to give you a puppy-dog look. 

“Merlin … I really am pathetic,” he swallows and then laughs nervously, leaning back against the wall, smiling sheepishly as you tuck him back into his boxers. You sit on your knees in front of him and he stares at you, half in awe, half in apprehension. “Are you going to tell people about this?” he questions, slightly anxious, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“No, I can’t lose my job, we’ve just broken a bunch of rules, you realise?” you tease and he smiles slightly. 

“Are we going to do this again? Or you know… something else?” he glances at your body, feeling a little bad he couldn’t do anything to make you feel like he just did.

“Maybe, maybe not, you’ll just have to wait and see,” you taunt, pecking his cheek and rising to your feet. He cranes his neck to watch as you fetch your bag and coat. You glance at him over your shoulder, seeing him sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking dazed and ruined. You can’t help but giggle, the sound stirring his stomach again. “See you soon, Longbottom,” you blow a mocking kiss and leave. He stares after you, both glad you’re gone so he can process what just happened, and also wishing you were never away from him again.

Tomorrow at work was either going to be heaven or hell on earth, and he found himself eager to find out. 

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[illusioncanthurtme]

I was thinking about something yesterday and that comic only solidified the thought. This is gonna be a ramble, I apologize in advance, I'm sorry.

But anyway, I made a post a few weeks ago about how fiddleford must have REALLY wanted to get away from his family in order to stick around in that psychological thriller for so long. (Someone commented on that post with a fucking manuscript and it was AWESOME and they deleted it and I'm sad about it. But that's neither here nor there) The thing I was thinking about yesterday was how ***CRAZY*** Ford was for bill, if he was going to question his trust for fiddleford, his LONG TIME FRIEND he's known since COLLEGE, in favor for a fucking demon!! What!!! He was so so so down bad for bill you guys. It actually reeks of cult-like manipulation if I'm being honest. Bill really did wiggle his way into ford's brain and he set up camp.

But the other thing I was thinking about... the portal required radioactive waste to power. Fiddleford had to have known about this, since he contributed in building the thing. He had to of known how it worked. So... was Ford playing up some sort of lie to fiddleford??? That their project was actually funded and vetted by something?? That he was getting the stuff legally?? Or did fiddleford know that Ford was STEALING RADIOACTIVE WASTE?? My personal thought here is that it was a lie - even though fiddlfords home life was shaky, and he wanted to leave because his marriage was circling the drain, I don't think he would agree to doing something illegal. He still cared about his family and wouldn't want to do something that could put him in jail, put his family in a position of having their provider taken away, AND put government eyes on them.

And you KNOW that shit was illegal. The entirety of the portal. And you know dang well Stanley knew that shit was criminal, he KNOWS what an undercover operation looks like. Otherwise none of it would be kept a secret.

So my thinking is that it was a lie, and eventually that lie came out. Maybe when Ford was especially sleep deprived or weird cuz of bill. He blurted out something about having to steal the waste in the name of science. And fiddleford did a double take. But of COURSE fidds is already in so so deep, and he's pining so bad for Ford, and the thought of going back home at this point is unbearable, and they've made it this far, etc etc. Shits absolutely crazy when you think about it.

THAT BEING SAID my knowledge of gravity falls is mostly limited to the show and book of bill, so if there's info I'm missing, let me know!! Maybe I'm wrong about this. But the backstory we've been painted here with the stan twins, fiddleford, and bill is absolutely bonkers, and you can read into that shit for DAYS.

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: angst, smut, language, violence

Chapter Seven

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

You were able to sneak out of the QZ fairly easily, the soldiers were preoccupied with new truckloads of survivors, and they were running around trying to create more sleeping accommodations in classrooms and hallways. Joel led you alongside the school and into the cover of a small forest before anybody could question you. You didn’t speak or slow down until you were about 2 miles away from the school, still primarily surrounded by trees, but they were thinning out, revealing shops and roads in the distance.

“Joel, stop, let’s rest for a few minutes, please,” you panted, struggling to keep up with his long gait on the uneven terrain.

Surprised to hear your voice, he turned to look over his shoulder at you. He had been in such a trance to lead you both away from the school that he wasn’t even sure what direction you were headed. He nodded in agreement. He was tired and hot, still in the same work clothes from Friday.

“Yeah, let’s go sit down, looks quiet here.” Joel motioned to a big, flat rock nearby, and the two of you sat down on it, setting your purse and supplies down and sipping on the water bottles you were grateful you had grabbed before leaving the QZ. You sat next to each other in silence, catching your breath and looking around at the nature surrounding you.

“What are we doing, Joel?” you asked him quietly. You were all too fully aware you were following this man blindly into a world full of danger. Just a week ago, you had such a different relationship with him, one that was heading in a direction that made you feel excited and hopeful. You were still reeling from the shock of his harsh words on his birthday, unable to fully process what happened that day in his office. Still, you had no idea what caused him to run out of the building after you, what he wanted to say, but you hated to admit that you were grateful. Who knows where you would be if Joel hadn’t yelled at you, making you quit and leave the building. Who knows where you would be right now if you were alone when those soldiers started shooting. In some twisted way, you owed Joel your life. He was all you had now, you had to trust him.

“Well, I suppose we try to find your family,” Joel said, leaning back to lay flat on the rock and closed his eyes as he continued. “At least, we gotta get out of this city, it’s not safe. That guy at the QZ told me this infection is all over, but maybe it ain’t as bad in other places.”

“What else did he say to you?” you asked, turning to look down at him now. His eyes were still closed, his face looked relaxed but the bags under his eyes reminded you he was up early this morning.

Joel paused for a moment. He knew what you were asking, but he wasn’t sure how to tell you. He kept his eyes shut when he finally spoke.

"He told me bad stuff was happenin’ to women there, women who were alone.”

Your suspicions were right. He stood guard over you while you slept, what else could it have been? You sighed, looking down at the half empty water bottle in your hands. Joel has been saving you over and over again for the past 5 days while you were still hung up on some stupid argument. It all felt so trivial now, when the focus was simply survival.

You reached your hand out and lightly squeezed his own, trying to thank him when words didn’t seem like enough. He opened his eyes now and looked at you staring at your coupled hands, giving your hand a light squeeze in return.

"What now?" you asked, letting his hand go. Joel sighed and sat back upright.

"Well, we gotta get some supplies. Couple of backpacks, some food, clothes, all that. I’m thinkin’ we gotta leave on foot, a car would be too loud, FEDRA will stop us. We can try to make it back to my place in the city for some stuff, but it’s far, maybe 10 minutes from the office.”

Something Joel said gave you an idea.

"I have backpacks! At my apartment, hiking backpacks, two of them. And some other things. My place is further out, it probably won’t take us too long, I live kind of far from work… lived,” you corrected yourself, frowning, “I just can’t tell where we are, maybe if we can get to those stores over there, we can see what street that is.”

Joel nodded. “Alright, good, you ready to go?”

You jumped off the rock and picked up your purse, stuffed with the items from the QZ, and both headed in the direction of the strip mall. You emerged from the thinning forest to find a playground with a baseball diamond and a soccer field. As you cautiously made your way through the open field, Joel stopped at the baseball diamond to grab you each a bat from a pile left on home plate. You took it from his outstretched hand, the thought of weapons to defend yourselves having not even crossed your mind yet. You were not adapting to this disaster as quickly as you would like. Joel had been the one to find shelter, the one who recognized when an area was unsafe, the one who formulated a plan. You scolded yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings... this was life or death. At least you had Justin’s old camping supplies still housed in your tiny apartment, that was useful. You just had to get there in one piece.

It took half the day to walk from the strip mall to your apartment building, taking extra time to be quiet and go unseen. Once you reentered the city, you could see Joel tense up as he gripped his baseball bat tightly by his side. Your building was not too far into the city limits, and you managed to make it there without being spotted.

Joel gently closed the lobby door behind you, turning around to see the room was empty, save for a few abandoned duffel bags and some trash. You led him towards the stairwell door, closing it quietly, listening for any movement above before slowly beginning your ascent.

“What floor?” Joel whispered behind you.

“Two,” you answered just as quietly, “but I am on the other end of the hall.”

“You’re on the second floor? D’you know how dangerous that is? Anyone could climb up and break in.”

You paused before opening the door marked with a big number 2, turning to look at Joel incredulously as he finished his climb up the stairs.

"There’s monsters running around eating people and you’re lecturing me about what floor my apartment is on?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

He looked at you for a moment, considering your words, and smirked.

"Yeah, well, when you put it like that," he said.

You knew it was a serious situation and people were dying. Hell, you could die at any moment. But you allowed a smile to spread across your face, only barely holding back a laugh. Joel’s smirk turned into a bigger smile at the sight of yours, hiding a small chuckle. You rolled your eyes, still grinning, and reached out to open the door before he stopped you.

"Let me go first,” he said, moving in front of you with his bat at the ready.

He pushed the door open just enough so he could see down the hall. It was empty, but there were several apartment doors that were either cracked or wide open. He listened intently for any movement that might indicate you weren’t alone. When he was satisfied, he opened the door wider, allowing you both to squeeze through and then softly closed the door. Without speaking, you pointed down the hall towards the right side, and with your fingers you held up a 2, 2, and 3, telling him which one was yours. He nodded in understanding and led the way slowly down the long hallway.

Joel stopped before every open door and peeked inside each apartment before moving down to the next one, being extra cautious of any infected. Neither of you had seen one up close yet, you had no idea what to expect, but you heard them when you were running down the street. They sounded like feral animals the way they screamed and snarled as they attacked. You shuddered at the thought, but at least you would hear them coming.

Joel paused when he heard someone walking, and then heard a repeated thudding sound. You both froze in place, listening and trying to locate the source. It sounded like it was coming from the floor above you, so you both continued until you reached the door that read 223. You dug into your purse and pulled out your keys, grateful to find that the door was still locked. Again, Joel insisted on sticking his head in first and clearing the place before you entered, gently shutting and locking the door behind you.

You looked around your small apartment, everything left exactly as it was Friday morning. You had a small loveseat and an accent chair surrounding your TV in the living room, behind the loveseat was your equally small kitchen with a table for two. Your bedroom door was off the kitchen, and the bathroom had a door right where you had walked in but was also connected to your bedroom through a second door. It was very small, but you made it work, you had just been so happy to have your own space.

Joel looked around thoughtfully. These were not the circumstances in which he had hoped to see your place for the first time. You chewed your lip as he looked around your apartment, admiring your framed photos and your knick-knacks. He looked so big and out of place amongst your modest apartment, filled with secondhand furniture and mementos from your past. You reached down to pick up the backpack you had tripped over on Friday morning, setting it up against the wall while you opened the extremely small accordion door that gave way to a tiny coat closet. You reached inside and grabbed the second backpack, setting it next to the first, and lastly picked up the two tightly rolled up sleeping bags that were never reattached to the packs.

He turned and saw the supplies against the wall, excitedly walking over to open one up and examine it more closely.

"I didn’t realize you liked camping, we can really use most of this," he said, his focus still on opening up the various pockets on the backpacks.

You paused a moment, not sure if you should tell him where the supplies came from. You figured he would eventually question why there were two packs, so decided to tell him.

"Actually, they aren’t mine, they were left here,” you cleared your throat nervously, remembering Joel’s outburst about you sleeping with people at the office. "They're Justin's. He forgot to pick them up after I broke up with him.” You turned away so you couldn’t see his reaction, nervous he would show that angry side of himself again.

His hands stilled at your words. He had no right, and he knew it, but a wave of jealousy washed over him anyway. Joel pushed his feelings aside, not wanting to upset you again after he had made a little progress with you today.

"Hated camping so much you broke his heart, then?" he joked, offering you a small smile.

Your cheeks heated up at the real reason you broke up with Justin, that day in the meadow with your thoughts consumed of Joel crossing your mind. You let out a small chuckle and said, "I guess I better get used to it now."

The two of you spent the rest of the day rummaging through your kitchen cabinets, setting aside essentials you could pack, only stopping briefly to eat some dinner. You found you had some chicken in your fridge, so you cooked it up with some rice and whatever vegetables you had that still looked good. You ate in silence, hunched over your small kitchen table.

"This is incredible, thank you again," Joel said, shoveling the last forkful in his mouth.

"You'd say that about anything right now, we haven't eaten anything decent since the bodega," you teased.

Joel shook his head in disagreement. "Nope, that ain't true. You're a good cook, and I'm grateful."

You looked down at your bowl shyly as Joel picked up his and washed it in your sink.

"Uh, I was wonderin," Joel started, clearing his throat and suddenly giving a spot on the bowl all his attention, "did he leave any clothes here I can use?"

You smacked your forehead, feeling stupid. Of course he wants different clothes, he's been in the same ones for days.

"No, he was only here that one time after camping, I'm sorry. Maybe we can look in some of those open apartments? I'm sure we can find something useful." You stood to wash your own bowl as he dried his hands.

Joel was pleased to hear your ex hadn't spent much time here, still struggling to ignore that jealous streak.

"Good idea, grab your bat, just in case, and let's go lookin' before it gets dark," he said, placing the towel delicately back on the holder before turning and heading towards your living room. You smiled inwardly at how domestic it felt in this moment, but you shook the thoughts out of your head. It's not like that between you, the focus was on surviving and finding your family.

You grabbed your bat and the two of you headed towards the door when suddenly the power went out. You both froze for a moment, taking in the eerie silence.

"Well, it held out longer than I figured it would. C'mon, we should definitely get goin' now, not much sun left." Joel said, opening up your apartment door a crack and peering out to make sure you were still alone. You followed him out the door, closed it gently behind you, and you walked a few doors down to apartment 245.

Joel indicated you stay back and he entered the room. It was a similar layout as your own, so it took him no time at all to confirm it was empty. You walked in and began to help him look through the dresser in the bedroom. Joel lucked out: the man who lived here was close enough to his size, so he grabbed a couple essential items and headed back to your place. He said he could continue to look tomorrow for more clothes, but this would do for now.

You rifled through your kitchen cabinet for as many candles as you could find, lighting them all over the apartment so you could see as the sun went down. You had just finished lighting the last one when Joel came out of your bathroom after taking a quick shower before the hot water cooled in the tank. He changed into a dark grey plain tshirt and some sweatpants.

"Feel better?" you asked, walking past him to put a candle in the bathroom.

"Much better, thanks," he said, checking the locks on your doors and windows. "I'm gonna move your couch in front of your door for the night. That way, I'll feel it move if someone tries breakin' in."

You emerged from the bathroom, your brows furrowed. "You can't sleep on that thing, are you kidding? You're too tall."

Joel looked down at the loveseat he was in the process of pushing across the carpet. You were right, his legs would hang off the end, it was only a two-seater.

"I'll be fine, don't worry," he waved you off, finishing his task.

"Just sleep in my bed with me, it's big enough, it doesn't have to be weird," you offered before you could overthink it. He kept his eyes cast down on the loveseat, weighing your offer.

"Besides, this may be one of the last times we get to sleep on a mattress for a while," you added.

"You sure?" Joel asked, one eyebrow raised. He was pleasantly surprised by how much has changed between you. He knew he ruined his chance with you, and he couldn't bring up the argument now, it's been too long, the damage was done. But if you didn't absolutely despise him for it, maybe that could be enough.

"Yeah, of course. I'm gonna shower, too. Go on and settle in." You grabbed a change of clothes and closed the bathroom door behind you.

Joel stood in the middle of your bedroom looking around. It was a small room, just a bed, one end table with an alarm clock, a hamper and a dresser. It wasn't much, but you somehow had made it feel like you. The framed pictures you had on your dresser from your college days were next to some random pieces of jewelry scattered across the top. He gently touched the intricate glass knobs on your dresser, the tip of his finger dipping into the grooves of the design.

The dresser must have been old, because the slight pressure from his finger caused the drawer to fall open a few inches. He moved to shut it when he noticed something bright red hidden under the clothes. He turned around to confirm you were still in the shower, hearing the water trickling on the tub floor. Curious, he dipped his hand inside to pull the item to the surface. It was a red lace thong, soft and delicate in his rough hands. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse raced as he felt all the blood in his body heading right to his cock. He shoved the underwear back down to the bottom of the drawer quickly when he heard the water shut off. He got into one side of the bed and bunched up the blankets to hide his growing erection.

You padded out of the bathroom, still towel drying your hair. Considering the cool fall nights, you had put on sleep pants and a long sleeve T-shirt. Your heart jumped in your chest, nothing preparing you for the visual of seeing this man in your bed. Deciding you needed to take a moment, you made an excuse about blowing the candles out and left the room. You scolded yourself as you walked around to snuff out each candle. That part of your life with him is over, you aren't here playing house, and he all but told you how he felt in his office that day.

Stop thinking about him like that.

You blew out the last candle and headed back to your bedroom.

You each laid on your respective sides of the bed, you on your side with your back to him, and him flat on his back staring at your ceiling. It was quiet outside, but you could hear the occasional growl or yell far in the distance, and once you heard a FEDRA truck rumble by your building.

“Joel?” you whispered in the dark after a while, not sure if he was asleep.

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“What do you think these things are? Are they people anymore?” you asked, unsure how to phrase your question.

“I’m not sure, the soldiers didn’t tell us much, I ain’t sure they even know,” he replied. "But I think we gotta look at it like it’s us or them: we can’t hold back if we’re in danger, d’you understand?”

You nodded in the darkness. He meant you’ll need to do what it takes to survive, even if that meant killing them.

“Yes,” you whispered back finally, “I understand.”

“I’m not sure how many of them there are, maybe it’s not as bad as we think… maybe the military can kill ‘em all and we can go back to normal. We haven’t even seen one yet, so who knows,” Joel said, yawning at the end of his sentence. You remembered he hardly slept the night before, so you stopped talking in order to let him rest. You closed your eyes and dreamt of whiskey and spearmint.

You awoke with a start when you heard another FEDRA truck rumble slowly past your building, shining a huge spotlight into the window as it drove by. It was still dark out, unsure of the time since your alarm clock was digital. You felt surprisingly warm despite the cool fall night. You were about to reach down to pull a blanket off when you stopped. The heat wasn’t from the blanket, it was Joel.

He was pressed up against your back with his arm slung around your waist lightly, his face buried in your still slightly damp hair. You felt his breath as it exhaled on the back of your neck softly and you fought the urge to shiver at the sensation, worried it would wake him. You could tell by his breathing he was in a deep sleep, so you took a moment to just enjoy what could have been. You wondered in a different timeline, had the world not ended and he wouldn't have said those things to you in his office, if he would be in your apartment like this under other circumstances. You knew you told yourself to stop thinking like this, that it wasn’t important anymore, but you knew tomorrow would bring a new day of fear and who knows what else. Tonight, you were safe in your apartment. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let your guard down, just a little.

You closed your eyes and leaned back ever so slightly against Joel, careful about waking him up. You sighed softly as you envisioned what it would have been like to have brought him back to your apartment, maybe after getting drinks and seeing a movie together. You would both stumble into your apartment giggling, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in to kiss you as you would try to retreat backwards towards your bedroom door without breaking contact. Once you had him in your room, you would have run your hands up and down his torso, trying to get him to lift his shirt over his head. Maybe he would have gently pushed you back so you would land flat on your bed, watching him remove his shirt so you could finally see the rest of those strong arms and broad chest.

You wondered what you would have worn. Probably a dress, but not a work dress. Maybe the knee length cream dress with little flowers on it you kept tucked in the back of your closet, hardly ever finding an occasion to wear it. You definitely would have tried to surprise him with the red thong you kept hidden away, wondering what his reaction would have been when he ran his hands up your smooth legs under your dress and feeling the soft lace under his fingers.  Maybe he would have asked you to take your dress off and leave just the underwear on so he could see all of you in the moonlight shining through your window. Would he have pulled you down on his lap roughly, pinching your nipple and gripping the meaty part of your hip as he ground his hard cock up against your warm center, still covered with lace, teasing you? Or would he have taken his time, laid you down on the bed while he inched the thong down your legs, spreading them wide so he could see just how wet you were for him? Maybe he would have pressed your legs down on the bed while he licked the opening of your pulsing cunt, his angular nose nudging against your clit, over and over until you came screaming his name and your hands buried in his curls.

You forced your imagination to stop before you woke him up with your ragged breathing. You couldn’t relieve the pressure between your legs, anyway, since he had you caged in. All you could do was squirm a little bit, feeling the dampness that pooled in your underwear. Joel's arm shifted, probably because you were moving, so you froze while trying to calm your breathing. He sighed and gave his limbs a small stretch. The arm that was draped loosely over your waist tightened around you now, his large hand splayed against your ribs and shoved between your side and the mattress. You held your breath until you were sure he was still asleep, finally relaxing when his breathing evened back out again.

You weren't sure what tomorrow would bring, or even if you would both live. Tonight, you drifted off to sleep in his arms, making a mental note to put that guard back up tomorrow.

Joel woke up first the next morning, the pleasant floral scent of your shampoo invading his senses before he even opened his eyes. Keeping his eyes shut, he frowned, the memories of yesterday flooding back to him. It had been a long day and your bed was so warm, he resisted the urge to wake up just yet. He sighed, stretching out a little before he realized his hand was pinned between you and the bed. He opened his eyes for the first time and saw you curled up with your back against his chest, sleeping peacefully with your lips slightly parted. No, he was clutching you to his chest, he must have done it in his sleep. No wonder he slept like a rock.

He gently tried to unweave himself without waking you up, but he failed. You stirred just as his arm broke free, and he quickly put some space between you so his morning wood wasn't digging into your back anymore.

You stretched and yawned, stilling when you felt him shift beside you. Turning over on your other side to face him, you gave him a sleepy smile before stretching once again and got up to head towards the bathroom.

Once the door shut, Joel exhaled the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He gripped his hard cock over the blankets to try to make it go away enough to stand up. It wasn't until you had left the bathroom to go into the kitchen for some food that he finally stood, tucking the remainder of his erection into his waistband.

You had dug out some pop-tarts and cereal, eating it dry since the milk had likely gone bad by now. You both ate in silence leaning over the kitchen counter.

"What's the plan for today?" you asked between a handful of Cheerios.

"Well, I figure we can look around some of these open apartments for whatever else we can use. Pack up our bags and see if we can start headin' west." Joel replied, dusting his hands on the sides of his sweatpants.

You nodded, telling him you were going to get changed, leaving him in the kitchen alone. Joel wandered over to the window, peeking out through the curtains to see if there was any activity. He didn't see any movement, a good sign, but not a sure thing. Once you were changed, he swapped places with you and changed as well, then you headed out the door to loot your neighbor's apartments.

You were wandering around the apartment across the hall from you as Joel was digging through another closet to gather a few more items he could wear. The rooms were a mess, just like all of the other apartments, like everyone left in such a hurry: random drawers were left partially opened and clothes strewn around. You sauntered up to an end-table next to the couch in the living room and cracked opened a drawer with one finger, your bat lazily dangling in your other hand. You saw something shiny inside, so you opened the drawer all the way and pulled out a large and sharp hunting knife encased in a leather sheath.

You picked it up and made you way into the bedroom where Joel was now rummaging around in the adjoining bathroom, inspecting first aid supplies and pocketing what looked useful.

"I got you a present," you said, leaning against the doorframe. He turned to you, his hand briefly brushing against the keychain in his jeans pocket subconsciously as he stood up. You held out the knife, which he stepped forward and took.

"Hey, good find!" he said excitedly. "These bats'll only get us so far."

He placed the knife on the bathroom sink and began to undo his belt. Your eyes latched onto the movement, not expecting it. Feeling flustered, you swallowed nervously and you felt your cheeks get warm as you briefly replayed some of the thoughts you were having in the middle of the night, turning away before Joel noticed.

Once his belt was off, he threaded the sheath through the leather and ran the belt back through the loops of his jeans. Despite your efforts, he had noticed the blush that creeped along your cheeks. He smirked as he watched you exit the room and head towards the bedroom window.

You stood against the side of the window, resting your head against the frame and gazed outside. You thought you could hear something in the distance but you couldn't put your finger on what the sound was. You motioned for Joel to come over.

"What is that?" you asked. He shook his head, listening.

The noise was growing louder and sounded like growling and snarls. As it got closer, you could hear some screams interspersed with the growls. Joel must have seen something because he grabbed you by the shoulder and tugged you down to the ground, putting a finger against his lips. Quiet.

He peeked over the edge of the window just enough to see a huge mob of at least 50 infected ambling down the street mindlessly.

"Fuck," Joel whispered. He watched as he saw them stumble and drag their feet, hunched over with their mouths either hanging open or snapping at the air. Joel noticed most of them were covered in some amount of blood, either their own or someone else's.

As the noises got closer, you lifted your head up slightly to look down at the street, gasping and clamping both hands tightly over your mouth. You continued to stare as tears pricked the back of your eyes. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. This was so much worse than you had imagined.

The two of you could barely hear the roar of the trucks over the snarling as they approached from the opposite direction, FEDRA soldiers standing on the top and unloading endless amounts of bullets into the hoard of infected. You ducked down, but Joel kept watching. He saw how the bullets went right through them, barely flinching as they began to charge the soldiers angrily. The drivers threw the trucks into reverse before they were overrun, causing a couple soldiers on the top to lose their balance and fall into the hoard. The infected swarmed on top of the fallen soldiers, their shrieks muffled by growls and wheels squealing on the asphalt as they raced back down the street to safety, followed by the few hopeless infected that weren't tearing apart the soldiers on the ground.

He ducked back down under the window, panting heavily from the adrenaline. You were still hunched over with your mouth clamped shut under your hands, rocking on your heels with tears silently streaming down your face.

Joel leaned forward and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you against his chest. Neither of you said a word, you just sat there until the growls from the infected faded and they headed down the street. You stayed like that another ten minutes before you risked looking back out the window. Joel saw the pieces of soldiers that remained: mostly scraps of clothing, boots, a hand here or there, and the street filled with their dark red blood. He noticed a few infected that had died from the bullets. When he looked closer, he saw they all had a shot to the head. So there was a way to kill them.

Joel sighed. He sat up against the wall and rubbed his hands roughly over his face.

"A knife and a bat won't cut it, we need guns," he said to you. You sniffled and looked up at him.

"Where do we get guns?"

"My place. I got a few there. It's far though, deep in the city, near the office."

You felt your pulse return to normal now as you dried your tears on the sleeve of your T-shirt.

"Maybe the subway is clear? At least we would be off the street," you said.

"It's the only plan we got," Joel replied. He stood up to reach down and help you stand, and you quietly went back to your apartment.

Chapter Eight

[datura-tea]

holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)

^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!

memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long

2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!

i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially

2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.

fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.

this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe

2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol

2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived

2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha

2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of

2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!

2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium

2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind

2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!

2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!

all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖

[magnetothemagnificent]

I sent you an ask a week or two ago about the new marvel show, Secret Invasion, and possible antisemitism. Did you respond to it and I just can’t find it? Please tag this post as “secret invasion” or “anon ask” or something so I can find it when you respond. Thanks!

Previous anon ask:

I am so sorry, anon, things have been really hectic in my personal life in the past few weeks (past few months, honestly), so I haven't been able to answer many messages, and I have quite a few sitting in my inbox.

I haven't watched Captain Marvel in a long time to be honest, so I had to do some good old googling to refresh my memory on Skrull culture.

It's.......definitely concerning.

This backstory is a classic antisemitic metaphor. Jews as a people have been defined by their exile from their homeland and their "infiltration" of the various countries they were exiled or migrated to. Having faced genocides upon genocides through the centuries, it is true that Jews as a people are adaptable, and have built prosperity and community for themselves even in unforgiving environments. This has made Jews the topic of suspicion for their ability to "blend in" to the population, while also maintaining their own cultural and spiritual integrity as a people. The various European inquistions, blood libels, the Holocaust, and today's dual-loyalty paradigm in regards to Israel are all manifestations of this suspicion of Jews as the outsider. In terms of media and culture, the Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, the New World Order conspiracy theory, and Q-anon are also manifestations of this belief that Jews are inherently untrustworthy and deceitful, invading other nations and cultures.

It doesn't help that the Skrulls are literally lizard-people, which is a page taken straight of David Icke's ramblings.

Long story short? Yes, absolutely it's an antisemitic trope.

But are we really surprised at this point with the way the MCU has been conducting things?

[id in alt text]

[furbygoblinxiv]

Ok now to be annoying about a completely different flavor of Zelda: That cartoon from the 80s that has aged so poorly I take psychic damage every time I watch it (which has been multiple times (I have problems)). A few months ago when rewatching and being sick of the Link's personality from the show (his best feature is how funny the "Well excuuuuse me, princess" line is) I was like "I wish the quiet kid from the games/art was here instead" and accidentally thought too hard and made an au/rewrite of the cartoon lmao.

Anyways Zelda cartoon au where cryptid boy Link saves the post apocalyptic Hyrule of loz 1 and chills in the castle with cartoon Zelda to defend the triforce pieces that they have while trying to find the last piece before Ganon can find it, stumbling across the sleeping loz 2 Zelda along the way lol. Hijinks ensue as he teaches Zelda the brawns to back up her girlboss and he gets an adventure buddy because its dangerous to go alone and Zelda with her boomerang and crossbow goes hard. I think a monster of the week style plot works for the earlier Zelda games, but an overarching plot could coexist with that since that is kinda how games work lol.

As per usual here are a bunch of slapdash barely related sketches of my ideas with my expanded thoughts below bc I think it'd be fun to share:

I look at the official art of Link being a quiet determined little dude with a backpack of tools and wish that that was represented more. Like look at him! What a guy! Imagine giving a quiet puzzle solving 14 year old a sword, lethal magical weapons, and a wasteland to explore! I would love a show about that! In terms of other characters, swap out that annoying fairy character, put in a Navi clone, at least Navi didn't have a crush on Link🤮. Ganon can stay the same so long as he was always a demon pig and was never a Gerudo man because unlike Nintendo, I do not want to imply that the only prominent man of color in the series has only one big braincell thats just screaming "EVIL" on loop. But! Keep Zelda the same, I love her so much in the cartoon, she's obnoxious in a slay girlboss way, maximum vibes. By virtue of not having a paper thin plot, most other characters that were fine get fixed by proxy.

I think plot wise? It takes place a few years after the first game. Initially, Link saved the royal family and they started rebuilding that area of Hyrule, and Link traveled around to help people. One day, Ganon's minions start making attacks on the castle to steal the triforce pieces back to revive him fully, and a Zelda who greatly admires Links steps up to defend the place. Eventually, Zelda requests Link return to help defend the castle while they search for the mysterious hidden third triforce piece in order to combine the full thing and wish for peace in Hyrule. Link agrees and the hyjinks begin.

IIRC the og Link backstory was that he was the son of the hyrulean queen and the elf king or smth? In the manga? I didn't want him to be hylian royalty but I wanted to keep that cryptid vibe, hence why I have him related instead to the great fairy and the kokiri. He just leaves the forest/cave one day with literally nothing to go save Hyrule, what a chad. I think it'd be funny if people describe Zelda as feral due to how boisterous and headstrong she is, especially out on the field, but Link is the quiet version of wild that you don't notice at first. She is openly intelligent and snarky in comparison to "says 3 lines a day, bombs first and asks questions later, explore under every rock and bush" forest kid Link.

It would be fun though if "rushes into danger" Zelda resonated more with the triforce of power and "solves dungeon puzzles for funsies" Link with the triforce of wisdom, then they both resonated with the triforce of courage upon finding it. idk tho lol

I also think two different young Zeldas coexisting with each other after one awoke from a cursed slumber would be really funny. Like that's gotta be so awkward, especially if one has the fighter girlboss slay up to 11 and the other just woke up from a coma to her family gone and her kingdom destroyed and just kinda wants to read books and drink tea in peace. Imagine being the same age or older than your great (great?) aunt. Or imagine if the old lady Impa nursemaid to Zelda 1 Zelda was the young Impa nursemaid to the Zelda 2 Zelda. Wild.

If I wasn't incapable of remembering to finish writing wips I'd write that series lol. Alas, this is all I can pull for now.

I'd love to call this propaganda to go watch the show but maybe don't because its yikes. This is moreso propaganda for someone to make a Zelda cartoon show instead of the movie that I sense Nintendo is plotting to make. Also, if you've read this far, I should mention I also will probably be posting art from some of my actual long term Zelda aus beyond just expanding on the cartoon, though I may continue to do that if my train of thought continues on these tracks.

[greasegotahold]

This post started out with a point then turned into rambling abt the stage show lol

So like. at least in my irl circle and from what I heard yesterday, a lot of ppl prefer the musical to the movie. Acknowledging the bias of theatre ppl toward theatre, that's not the reason I heard most; what I heard most is that the musical stays closer to the book than the movie. Granted idk how many if any of these ppl have seen the complete novel extended cut of the movie, but even so this argument sits wonky with me

Bc the musical takes quite a few departures from the book, some p dramatic. Darry is not the gang's leader, Dally is. Randy is an ensemble part with one line; Cherry gets his ending "even if you win, nothing will change" moment. Sandy is already gone. Evie and Sylvia are gone. Steve is not a big part of Soda's life. Two Bit isn't acknowledged as an alcoholic. Johnny was only jumped a week ago, and it's not a secret who did it. Bob is the one who jumps Pony at the start and even comes up with an excuse for it. Dally doesn't give Johnny his heater, Dally commits a far more direct suicide, no sickness or court proceedings, so on and so forth.

Now I understand why we made just about all of these changes: the show is just about 2 hours as is, not counting intermission; streamlining needed to happen, for time and for clarity of storyline. I even prefer a lot of the changes (Cherry is just. Such a livelier character lmao. She's given stuff to DO. I love her in the book and movie but the stuff they added in the musical I simply love.) I bring this up just bc it. Is honestly just as different as the movie if not more so in how it departs from the source material.

Which means when ppl are saying it's closer to the book, they mean in feel.

And in many avenues; talking about the the extreme accessibility of the book as an adult with other adults, attempting to articulate my issues with the film adaptation, and then later attempting to defend the movie on those same shortcomings, I think I know why.

It's the ever-present narration. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Ponyboy tells his story, he doesn't show. And that makes the book an extremely straightforward read, and absolutely how he can tell us so much shit that happened in so little time, but it also makes it hard to capture in a standard movie adaptation, especially when the movie also needs to trim down and streamline characters and plot points.

But what does Pony do throughout the musical? He narrates. Yes the story plays out real time, but it's still interspersed with these slowdowns where he talks to the audience, where he's narrating.

And I think that's what's really clicking so well with the musical, despite all the changes to characters and their dynamics and plot beats.

And for certain things, the impact is still there, they just changed it around. Johnny was jumped last week instead of months ago and we don't get the excerpt abt how he wound up buying his first blade, and how he would kill the next soc who tried to jump him, and Dally no longer gives him his gun, but he does give him the 6 inch switchblade when Johnny is genuinely worried his dad will kill his mom, and then shows him how to stab to kill. The circumstances are different, but we still get Dally giving Johnny a lethal weapon. The motivation changes for why Johnny carries his blade, from self defense to an explicit want to protect others, but this makes it a more direct setup for when he kills Bob to save Pony.

And a lot of the straight up original additions to the plot feel seamless. The added backstory for Cherry's parents, her dad's alcoholism and her mom's kind of just. Surrender to hopelessness and despair. Not only explains why she's so touchy about Bob drinking, but it makes the change from going along with him to stop a fight into her refusing to back down after breaking up feel justified. To be clear, I don't fault book and movie cherry for doing what she does in that scene, she's trying to keep everyone else safe, I just think that the change was set up and well executed in the musical.

Also sidenote but in Justice For Tulsa...I have so many feelings after getting to see it. The cop shining his flashlight down on Two Bit as he gets jumped, but then he just keeps on walking bc why would he care abt a greaser...Bev buying right into the boys' escalation against the greasers vs Cherry's outright rebuke and then Marcia is over here looking genuinely Physically nauseous over having to choose a side. And of course the moment where the cop beats Dally after handcuffing him, that speaks for itself.

(Sidenote, unrelated to anything, I just wanna say when I listened to the soundtrack for the first time, years since I had read the book or watched the movie, somehow I just knew when the soc boys started singing their threatening section, that they were jumping two bit. I guess I just had a faint buried memory that Two Bit was the revenge-jumping victim lol)

[onyxsboxes]

Hi 🥰 for the fic backstory ask, I'd like to know more about god!Gale!! Where did that come from??? It's such a creative idea! ♥️

Thank you 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰, I can't tell you how much I love this au.

take a deep breath

It started a few weeks ago, when @alienoresimagines posted an incorrect quotes where Bucky used 'Oh my Buck' instead of 'Oh my God'.

It was at the same time as we were brainstorming about the bb/de-aged buckies au with Ali and with all the fluff and sweet little ideas we had came up with, my brain needed an outlet for more angsty idea.

After a few tags/comments, the idea was born and with time turned into a rabbit hole (god!Gale was the perfect outlet for a bit of angst)

And as Ali said: "something about how a god can only exist so long as people believe in him so Gale can only be Gale because John sees him and ahhhhhhhh"

A few HC about god!Gale

(Also tagging @alienoresimagines and @mirrsd because they were interested 🥰)

Gale is a minor god and his domain/representation is selflessness.

He has always been there for humans and living creatures, tending to them over time.

When the Others left the humans after deeming it safe enough to leave them alone, Gale stayed and continued to take care of them.

He has a very lonely and long existence, taking care of others without receiving anything in return.

Then one day, he meets Bucky and things start to change.

Bucky who gave him a new name: Buck. Gale has had many names over the years, but he cherishes 'Buck' more than any of them because it's the first thing Bucky ever gave him 🥰 (maybe Marge was the one to named him Gale 🤔)

All the little gifts Bucky gives Gale: the bike, the radio, his lucky deuce, a ginger beer, the scarf, ... turn out to be sacrifices that feed Gale

AND Bucky even bring believers to Gale because he talks about him all the time.

They don't realize it at first because Bucky doesn't know Gale is a god and Gale hasn't had an offering or sacrifice in years.

And Gale falls in love with him for it a little more every day.

Bucky is his first High Priest in centuries, or even the first (I haven't decided yet)

Because Gale's domain is selflessness, he can't grant better health, victories or wealth like other gods. He can only give parts of himself.

That's why he hasn't had many believers or priests over time, he can't give them much and so they didn't stay 🥺 (think a bit like The God of Arepo)

For an offering/sacrifice to “feed” Gale, it has to be done without expecting something else in return (it has to be selfless) and so few people actually (can) do it.

But all the little offerings/sacrifices Bucky has made for Gale (bike, ...) have allowed him to protect Bucky and keep him alive to a lesser extent. Gale can feel him in his domain.

(Bucky's faith is the most beautiful Gale has ever seen and he could stare at it for days)

(These hc came after I saw a gif of Bucky and Gale in the stalag and angst ensued ⬇)

In the stalag, Bucky doesn't want to be alive and, for the first time, Buck can't bring himself to represent his domain.

He can't let Bucky go, so he keeps asking him for little favors and Bucky is so out of it that he doesn't even realize that.

And since the sacrifices aren't given willingly (Buck asked Bucky to do it), Gale suffers from receiving them, they do Buck more harm than good. But it's also the only way he has to make sure Bucky's alive (this way, he can feel him through his domain). 😭😭😭

Buck cries himself to sleep every night because he can't save his high priest or let him go, and all he's doing is making Bucky suffer.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling about god!Gale 😅 now.

(Don't worry @mirrsd, I'm still trying to figure out a way to give them more time together so they're not separated by John's short lifespan 😉)

[gamebunny-advance]

Let's Just Rip Off This Band-Aid (Kliff Doll Repaint)

I still haven't finished adding the fringe to his scarf, but at this point, I don't think y'all will actually care that much. It's a personal project anyway, so I'll just finish it on my own time. Right now, I want to be released from the shackles of this project.

Once again, my poor camera and lack of editing do him no favors (he's got a real bad case of jaundice in that first pic. I PROMISE he's not that yellow-orange IRL ;o;), but he is (mostly) done.

Well, he was (mostly) done like a week ago, but just yesterday I decided to redo a few things to try and "fix" what was really bothering me about him, so I really made recursive progress. That said, I do like him more now than I did a week ago, so I'm not mad about it.

A little backstory: Alongside Kun3h0, I've been working on him for the past month, so I've been pretty occupied with this project for a while. Now, I do wonder to myself why exactly I thought making this would be a good idea. All I can really say is that my impulsive tendencies drive me to do things against my better judgement.

But, I will still give y'all my documentation and thoughts on the process + more pictures.

(I'll talk a little more about it later, but for those of you that aren't going to go through the long-ass readmore, the Neon J. mask is a reference to an old comic I drew.)

(It's so old, I was still writing everything by hand~)

So, the "real" answer to "why" I made this is really as simple as "because I could." As I said in the Kun3h0 post, I've been wanting to repaint dolls for a long time, years even, so in the back of my mind, I'm always thinking of ways I could finally start one.

Well, recently I just finally put together the ideas and motivation I needed to start. And of course, that was with Kliff.

I don't remember *exactly* how I stumbled across everything, but I do recall looking at doll clothes online and stumbling across this trench coat (pictured with the other clothes for this project).

(I took this pic mostly because I thought I was going to take pics of every major step of the process, but that didn't end up happening).

I thought it was pretty darn close to Kliff's coat, and I got the horrible idea that, "I could def make a Kliff doll to go with this coat as long as I can repaint it."

I feel like usually people would think the other way around, but that is basically the truth of this project: I didn't find clothes to fit the doll, I made the doll to fit into the clothes. Because for me, customizing the doll wasn't really the intimidating part: it's making the clothes. I don't know how to use a sewing machine, and currently lack the patience to learn (and due to some personal trauma that I don't really want to get into), but I can hand-sew, so starting any project that involves it requires me to be willing to set aside a lot of energy for me to do it, which I don't often have.

But, if I could find ways to cut down on the sewing, then I'd be more willing to start. And somehow, I was able to find just about everything I would need for a potential Kliff doll without having to sew anything. In the end, I only sewed together one thing, and it's the one thing that isn't actually finished: the scarf.

So, I blame the trench coat for the entirety of this project: if I'd never seen it, I would have never made a Kliff doll. In fact, I got the clothes before I even had the doll.

Since I was brainstorming this project, one of the most important parts is of course the base doll, which was tricky. Male doll repaints are fairly uncommon, especially of older men, so there weren't a lot of resources or places to get inspiration for this project.

From what I found, most male (fashion) dolls were very youthful, and the ones that weren't usually took heavy modifications to achieve, which was out of the question. Kliff was supposed to be an "easy" project, so on top of not wanting to sew any clothes for him, I also didn't want to have to alter the doll that much to make it look like him. This was a lot to ask for without putting in any personal work, but in a way, this goal was supposed to keep me from actually starting this project: really this whole thing was supposed to just live in my head as a fantasy as most things do, but then I just stumbled into the right set of things, so I couldn't stop myself from going through with it.

The doll I landed on was a BTS Mattel doll. Now I've said before that I know basically nothing about BTS, and that is still true, but that's beside the point. In my research for finding a suitable doll to work with, I found out that a popular base were these BTS dolls. At first, I wasn't into it because I was still running into the "youthful face" problem that I was with other brands: most of them had pillowy lips and nice soft faces, but I did eventually find one that I thought was close enough: J-Hope.

(It's not the worst match up.)

I don't have pics of my doll before I started working on him, but it was pretty close to the stock photo. He has much thinner lips than the others, and a taller, more angular head shape that I thought would work best for Kliff. I did worry a bit that the nose wasn't "strong" enough to really be Kliff (and IMO, it wasn't XP), but it was the closest I found yet, so I decided to bite the bullet and get one, and if I had one, that meant I needed to start gathering everything I would need for this project.

So, no backing out now.

Now, actually acquiring this doll was a whole other song and dance, but here's the part that's important for how the process went:

Due to a miscommunication with the seller I eventually got him from, there was a delay with shipping, so I didn't actually get him until weeks after "officially" starting this project. In the meantime, the clothes and things for Kun3h0 (who I started as an impulse project within the impulse project) had already been gathered.

The original plan was that I was going to work on and subsequently post about Kliff first since he was a comparatively simpler project. All the things I was avoiding for Kliff: sewing clothes and making modifications to the doll, were all going to be incorporated into Kun3h0, so she was theorhetically going to take longer and be posted later, thus telling a small story of "starting simple, ending complex." But since I didn't have his doll, but didn't want to delay working on Kun3h0 just to wait on him, I started on her and repainting his clothes anyway.

So, I don't have any pics of the doll or his clothes from when I was working on them, unlike the sparse ones I had for Kun3h0, I only have pics from after he was finished.

But I'll still tell y'all what I can to at least preserve the story.

For starters, repainting this coat was probably the most time-consuming part of this process.

I really thought that it would take one or two days maximum to turn this coat bright yellow, but I think it actually took over a week. And I really should have known; the coat was a medium tone, and I know that yellow takes a while to build up on anything that isn't light. I lost count at some point, but I swear that thing has over 20 coats of paint on it. Mind you, the first 10 or so coats were watered down with the textile medium, which also contributed to how long it was taking for the coat to take color, but at some point I just got so frustrated that I stopped mixing in the medium and painting directly onto the coat to get the color to layer faster. This is a huge no-no for painting acrylics onto fabric, lest the paint crack from creasing the fabric, but I just couldn't be bothered anymore. I needed this thing to be dandelion yellow NOW or I was gonna lose it.

There were consequences for taking that shortcut, such as the paint cracking in high motion areas and the coat getting stiff, but it's not terrible. In the end, I accepted the trade-offs or else I might still be painting the coat. Perhaps one day I'll reverse engineer the pattern for the coat and make him a new one, but I wouldn't count on it. In retrospect, I wonder if I would have had an easier time if I had thought to bleach the coat first?

As you might notice, I contoured/shaded part of the coat in orange. That's something that I actually *just* added yesterday and added another couple of hours to the work time. It was just bothering me that the doll was essentially a giant slab of yellow, and was part of the reason I didn't like it very much. But I got inspired by this repaint to try contouring the coat to give it more depth.

(I also used this person's videos to modify the hands. He has one deidcated to just reshaping the BTS hands.)

In the end, I'm pretty happy with the results.

The rest of the clothes weren't as difficult to deal with.

The pants took the paint a lot better, likely due to being dark paint on a light surface. Since I used less paint, it's not as stiff as the coat and still go on very easily. Though, they are VERY high waisted, and I'm not sure if that's normal XP

The shoes are also painted (and slightly modified), though I had to paint them twice because the first time, the paint got stretched off when I tried to put them on the doll's feet: the shoes were just *slightly* too small for the feet of the doll, so they really get stretched to fit his feet, and his heels don't actually go in all the way XP.

He's still capable of standing on his own, but I try not to remove the shoes, so I can avoid having them crack again.

In my "initial clothes" pic, I put down a different shirt than the one he's wearing. The original plan was to repaint the shirt black, but my work space is very limited, so I couldn't really repaint three pieces of clothes at once without significantly risking that I would stain other things. In the end, after getting scarred by how long it was taking for the coat to take color, I decided to just give him one of the black shirts that came with the coat. This does make him somewhat inaccurate since the current shirt has flowers/plants on it, but I'm gonna say that they make up for the lack of flowers on his scarf. Maybe someday I'll make him a new shirt from an old sock or something, but for now, I don't think it's a bad look.

Other clothing of note is the scarf, but since it's not technically finished I didn't take any close pics of it. It's actually made of an old headband of mine that I just cut and painted to look like his scarf.

Originally, I had actually glued on ribbon to it for the stripes, which took a couple days for the drying, but because I couldn't flatten out the scarf to easily glue the ribbon, it turned into a mess and bulked it out too much: since the scale of the doll is already small, I really needed to keep the fabrics thin. This was especially important for the scarf since it was going to wrap around his neck: if it were any thicker, it was going to practically eat up his face, which it still does, just less so.

Speaking of face...

When I finally got the doll in the mail, I started working on him right away, so I don't have any "before" pics of the doll.

After I did the usual "wiping off the face and pulling out his hair," I started with repainting the entire body and head.

Despite Kliff being ambigously "WHITE 🫵," Kliff isn't as pale as the original doll. I'd say even the stock picture I posted above has more warmth than the actual doll did. So, I got the base to be "coral" all over, dusted him in light orange chalk pastels for contouring, and most of his details are outlined in shades of burgandy. I didn't take any nude pics of this doll, but he is countoured all over his body and you can rest easy knowing I gave him some nips XP. But maybe someday I'll show y'all doll!Kliff's washboard abs XP.

TBH, I did want to detail some tattoos and some body hair too, but I just didn't trust myself to do either of those well with the tools I have (my brushes aren't thin enough, and my hand not steady enough for those kind of intricate details). Maybe someday I'll at least get his tattoos in (and after I've actually designed them XP), but we'll see. I don't plan on having the doll in short sleeved clothes very often, so details like that are the least of my concerns.

TBH, I was pretty proud of how the face paint originally went on. I really took my time to make sure it went down flat. It really was beautifully smooth~

But disaster struck.

I had painted the head while it was still separated from the body, and when it finally came time to reunite them, the paint on the head cracked and peeled when I shoved it back on. And, foolish fool that I am, instead of accepting my losses and starting over from a perfectly clean head, I just peeled the lose ends and repainted the exposed parts, which of course made the paint uneven. I somewhat justified this with the idea that most of it would be covered by other details, but in retrospect, I really should have just started over properly.

But, after that ordeal was over with, it was time to actually work on the face.

I can't clearly remember if I worked on Kun3h0 or Kliff's face first. I think I worked on them simultaneously because it took me a LONG time to actually get the courage to work on Kun3h0's face.

I thought I did a decent job on Kun3h0 since I really only had the 1 eye to repaint (the hidden eye is painted, but it's basically just a void with no details), and it was a bigger "canvas", so it was easier to paint. Besides having 2 eyes that I would need to make nearly identical, they were also a lot smaller, so it took a lot longer to paint them in a way that satisfied me (and since it's not easy to "redo" acrylic paint, his eyes lost a lot of smoothness too).

Again, I don't have any "before" pics, so it won't be easy for me to convey my troubles about it, but I do want to say that I think Kliff with a closed mouth is very cursed.

:I

He just looks like he's itching to say something heinous and that is no different for the doll.

It was so difficult for me both match his expression on a face that wasn't *completely* his and still look like him. Although I chose this doll because he most resembled Kliff, he was never gonna be a perfect likeness of him, but despite knowing this, it still bothered me that the face was still just very "young" looking.

Granted, I don't think the original Kliff looks *that* old either (if I didn't know any better, I would assume he was in his 30s, not his 50s, especially compared to other characters around the same age), but still not as *smooth* as the doll is (even with my paint mishaps).

If you can believe it, the face actually used be worse. I don't have pics of it, but like the coat, I actually repainted his face yesterday to again try and fix what was making me dislike it before. I think the problem is that I didn't outline the eyes as much as the final one (like, I don't think I lined his undereye at all), so he was lacking depth. The mouth was also a little more off. Instead of being like "<--->" it was more like "|-|"

(A rough illustration of what I'm trying to describe.)

So, while it's still not perfect, I do like him more today than I did a week ago.

I think the only things left to talk about are his accessories, starting with his wig:

I'm not actually a big fan of the color. When I started this project, I wanted to try and make him as accurate as possible, and the original Kliff design has a very "cherry jolly rancher" hair color.

However, how I draw him and how he appears in Encore Edition gives his hair a more red-orange tone which isn't as intense. In the end, I opted for accuracy towards his first design since that's the one I was technically most familiar with and wanted to replicate, but in retrospect, I should have realized that I was never gonna be able to seperate my personal quirks from this personal project, so I should have gone with a color that was more accurate to how I interpret him. (I dunno if I would have gone as far as to give him triangular eyes, but one of my biggest takeaways from this project has been that I should have just allowed this to be "my take" on the character instead of trying to be "accurate," meeting in the middle, and satisfying neither condition.)

I don't think I really got across how much I HATED brushing out yarn for the wigs when I posted Kun3h0. It was just such a tedidus process, from brushing it out, to straightening it, to gluing it down. It was such a mess. I'm still finding loose wisps of yarn hair floating around my home since I made them.

Since I had more than had my fill from making Kun3h0's wig, I once again started taking shortcuts when it came to Kliff: I really should have made more wefts for him. I figured since his hair was (compartively) shorter, that I wouldn't need to make as many, but in the end his wig turned out both too thin and too thick.

Since his hair is so messy, I didn't follow any kind of guide for his hair like I did Kun3h0. I basically just glued around the perimeter of the cap, horizontally on the inside, and made sure it would fold over in the front.

Part of the problem is that I made the wefts too thick: instead of just gluing down what could actually touch the surface of the work area, I wound up gluing layers on top of each other, so the wefts would be like a mm thick when they should have been less than half of that. So, I barely got enough coverage for the scalp, and the parts that I did get down are very thick. I think it makes his head look bigger than it should which kinda adds to the uncanniness of him.

I did try to style it as close to canon as possible, but there are some things that just aren't (easily) possible in certain mediums, and Kliff's wild hair is one of them.

In retrospect, I probably should have just sculpted his hair with clay or something: it probably would have been more accurate, but I don't have much confidence in my sculpting ability, and again, I didn't want to modify the doll that much, so I stuck with the yarn.

I might suck it up and try and make him a new wig, I still have a LOT of red yarn left over, so maybe I can make him some new styles too. But the tedium of going through with it makes it very unlikely that I'll follow through~

(The wig from other angles.)

Since the beard is made from the same yarn, I'll lightly talk about that. There aren't too many resources about bearded dolls, but I've seen people root it, glue it, and even just paint it if they weren't supposed to be thick. In the end I used this repaint for reference (suggestive content warning) and glued it on.

The scarf covers most of it, but I think it turned out okay. I need to add just a *little* more to his left cheek, but otherwise I feel like I was successful.

Next, it's usually hidden due to all the crap that's on his head, but I did give him an earring.

I didn't think about it until way too late in the process, and I tried to poke a hole through his ear so he could actually wear it. However, when I tried to do so, I almost ruined his head paint a second time. Saying, "fuck that," I decided to just glue it on.

If I had been more brave with modifying this doll, I might have just resculpted his ears entirely, because, being based on a real life human being, the doll's ears don't flare out that much, so they're easily covered by other things.

His glasses are just a piece of painted plastic that hold to his face using some plastic cord. They fit well while his wig is off, but putting them on with everything else is a goddamn nightmare.

Since his ears are so small, and his hair is so short, there's nothing for the glasses to "grab" onto without the cord, but the cord is too short to fit around the wig once it's on, but I can't make the cord longer to sit over the wig, because the glasses need to go over the headband, and it's a pain in the ass trying to layer everything like that.

So, I have to put the glasses in place first, TAPE the cord to his scalp so they don't move, put on the wig, then put on the headband. It's really such a hassle, but I don't think I can truly convey the annoyance of having to do it all without showing you. So, unless I absolutely have to, I'm never taking any of those things off him again.

I think the last things are the headband, mask, and tablet.

The headband is just a spare scrunchy that I have. I don't have one in the *exact* same color as the real one, so I went with the closest one I had, which was this teal color.

I didn't feel comfortable repainting one since it's essentially an elastic band, I don't think the paint, even with the textitle medium, would be able to hold up to all the stretching I have to do to even get it on his head.

If I happen to find a white one somewhere in my stash, then I might try dyeing it using water and acrylic paints to see if I can get it green, but for now, I think this works. A little thick, but it works.

The tablet is just a piece of foam painted with paint markers and the mask is a piece of cardboard. I wasn't planning on really recreating any scenes with this doll, but since I remembered that comic, and thought it would be easy enough to make, I went ahead and made it as an in-joke to myself.

Honestly, I think it's the most charming piece of the entire ensemble. Plus, he can wear it without me having undo/redo any of his other head accessories, so it's easy to make him wear it whenever.

My final comments about the doll itself are that he's fucking huge. I should have taken a pic of him next to Kun3h0, but he is too tall to even fit on my display shelf without sitting.

(Please ignore any mess you might see in the reflection. This is just one of the only flat pieces of furniture he can stand on without me standing on something to take a pic.)

Despite my interests, I don't actually collect dolls (I'm more into figures and plushies), so I wasn't expecting him to be so big. In fact, Kun3h0, who would be considered a small to medium doll in collector's spaces, was also bigger than I thought she'd be, so you can imagine my surprise when I got my hands on him.

So... I don't really know where I can put him. He obviously can't live in front of my TV, but beyond being too big for my shelf, he also doesn't fit in with any of my other collectibles. And I'll be honest, the contrast of him "clearly not belonging" among my more "kawaii" items was a motivator in starting this project, I live for the gap moe after all, but in practice he really just sticks out like a sore thumb. (This is also why his first pics are in a slightly different location without many props. I just couldn't put together anything from my collection or find a spot among my things to take a good thematic pic with. The magazines/CDs he's with are from my dad's collection.)

I do have space at higher elevations in my room, but it's kinda off putting to have him staring down my room, looking like he's plotting something (my space is too small to ignore it). So I dunno what I'm gonna do with him. I did have plans to make him some... cuter outfits so he wouldn't stick out as much, but that requires sewing, and I'm kinda worn out from this project.

In conclusion, despite my troubles with this project, I'm not entirely displeased with the results. At the very least, it was an experience, and one that I might even be willing to do a third time 👀...?

But for now, I'd like to rest and maybe go back to drawing again. I feel like I haven't drawn anything "real" for a while now. We're inching closer and closer to the next follower milestone (4 digit number BA-BY!), so I'd like to at least get back to being good enough to sketch some stuff for y'all soon~

[epicrox]

Gossip Girl #2 You Know You Love Me Book Moments I've Gathered

+ Short Commentary.

These are mostly moments I've read that made me squint disgustingly at my phone or made me stop reading the eBook for a few minutes. The first one is here. I didn't comment on each quote from my first post about gossip girl but I want to in this one. Really glad Chuck isn't in this book as much but Nate and Dan weren't any better.

It's the first chapter and we start off strong with some homophobia. Blair's annoyed that her father is acting too confident in public and recalls that he wasn't like this when he was in the closet. The man is just more comfortable in his skin and that's it. I never thought BLAIR WALDORF would be against standing out in public. I mean she lives in her fantasies believing that she is the female lead of a classic Hollywood movie. Then again she probably likes it when she is the only one at the centre of attention.

OMG this isn't the Erik I know.

I read this book last year and I think she was buying Nate pyjamas if I'm not mistaken. I just imagined Nate in grey booty shorts while reading this chapter. Don't know why tho. Also why are you acting maternal towards your boyfriend?

Dan's dad (accidentally) telling Serena about what Dan has described her in his poems.

And she is not impressed. So glad the book didn't brush off Dan's weirdness around Serena as romantic. Now I'm not saying being weird is bad because we all have our quirks but Dan's uncomfortable behaviour and thoughts just gives me red flags.

It's literally canon that he makes bad poetry.

Jenny's a freshman.

While in Book 1, Dan's actions and behaviour creeped me out the most, Nate takes the cake in this one. Nate does date Jenny in the show but I think it's worse in the books.

Pseudo-incest also makes an appearance. Blair's stepbrother.

Mookie's a dog. And why are you saying that to your stepsister?! I don't even remember the context because it was such a long ago.

Blair's not wrong. I don't think we even got a tragic backstory for Nate to mope about. He's just the stoner friend of the male lead. Maybe that's why Chuck becomes more of a prominent character on the show than him. Or that's what I've heard since I didn't watch passed season 2.

Nope.

I might post Book 3 quotes this or next week.

[miniscrew-anon]

About Dark and Shadow's Past

Finding out that Dark and Shadow knew each other before Dark went away was eyeopening, because that means they've known each other for a really long time. But exactly how long? And how old were they when they met? Time for me to do my patented Over-analyze move and scrape every canon detail together to form a rough timeline.

Okay so let's start with what we know and work backwards; Time, as of the HSH, is 38. Twilight is 23. And Four is 22-23.

We know Time was dealing with the Termina situation for years, although the number of years is unclear. The only information we have is that we know Malon and him divorced just a few weeks before Majora was murdered and Time was put in the hospital. Thanks to the hospital records Hyrule sends Twilight in HSH ch.4, he know Time was between 25-30 years old at the time. That means that at max the Termina Conflict was between 8 and 13 years ago.

That would make Time, as of his divorce and Majora's deaths, between 25-30.

Next, we also know that the last time Twilight saw Time and Malon together and happy was when he was "a kid". Not super descriptive, but at least we can say that he was probably 12 or younger. That would mean at minimum it happened 11 years ago, which falls neatly between our 13-8 year gap. Since I don't think there's any definitive way to narrow it down further, I'm going to just go with Time and Malon being divorced when Time was 27. And since we know that Time and Malon were newly weds when they moved to Termina (the townhouse was the first time they were living together as per HSH for the Holidays ch.4), that means they got married After Time had dealt with Ganon. Let's assume they were married for 2 years - long enough for the divorce process, Malon to grow roots in the city and stay after the divorce, and have a dysfunctional marriage.

So Time was approximately 25 when he was married.

Now, let's talk Dark's timeline. We know very little about him. The only truly definitive information we have is that he was caught and jailed when he was 19 and that his capture did not coincide with Ganon's defeat. He was questioned in prison, so he had active information that the crown was still using to combat Ganon. We also know that he was modified to look like Time. Being so young, he would have to have been close in age with Time, who I can only assume is slightly older than Dark. Also Time would have had to have made some sort of name for himself to prompt Ganon to create Dark. The process to look for someone to deal with Time started when Dark was 16, so that's another 3 years that Time must have been an active participant in the war.

Time didn't finish high school, so I think he got recruited at around 16 (not sure - I don't remember specifically. My mind doesn't hold Time lore like is does for everyone else lol. Please if someone's got that old post about Time's backstory send me the link so I can double check). Assuming he didn't get actively involved for a few years to train, let's say the Great Deku Tree died 3 years later when Time was 19 - old enough to be a participant but still young. A year or so would be sufficient to make a name, prompting Ganon to start looking for a double.

So during the Ganon War, Time is 21 and Dark is 16.

Time arrests Dark when he is 24 and Dark is 19. A five year gap.

That means as of HSH, after 14 years of prison, Dark is roughly 33.

Now for Shadow.

We know even less about him, if you can believe that. In fact just about the only thing we know about him is that he's around Four's age.

Four is 22-23. Let's say 23, to give ourselves as much leeway as possible. At first I would have put Shadow at the same age but if Shadow is 23 that means Dark would have gone away when Shadow was 9. Not impossible, but not plausible either - Shadow seems too young to connect to Dark and I doubt 19yr old Dark would care about a kid that young. So I'd say Shadow is actually a few years older than Four, maybe 25-26. That would make Shadow 11-12 when Dark was arrested. Old enough to have some time to form some sort of a bond if Shadow is mature for his age.

So that means that by the time Dark was captured, he was 19 and Shadow was about 12.

This may not be accurate - there is very little concrete evidence and there's plenty of wriggle room for change. Maybe Dark is younger, maybe Shadow is older. I have no idea. The only thing I do know is that I'm intrigued by these two and their mysterious connection.

These days they have that antagonistic friendship that is so typical for a duo of skrunkly criminals. But I do wonder what kind of relationship they had back in the day - some sort of twisted Big Brother Program energy? Or was it friendly with Dark using Shadow as a way to subconsciously cling to some form of childhood, despite how messed up both of them were. Or was Shadow trying to get a leg up by networking with Ganon's shiny new child soldier? Did Dark warn Shadow off of getting involved with the Dragmire clan to spare him the shit he himself went through?

I have so many questions and I am, as always, eagerly awaiting any information about these two.

(@st0rmyskies how did I do? Did I get even slightly close or am I off by a mile?)

[tumblingghosts]

i’m late but- 🦋🐝☁️

re: ask game

🦋 — share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

i've been thinking a lot about the future lately. it's felt like time has been getting away from me -- hours slip by, then days, then weeks, and suddenly an event that was three months away has happened six weeks ago. but i'm doing my best to take things day by day! it's helped to give myself little daily tasks to do :)

🐝 — tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@persephoneprice -- you have such insightful takes on thg/tbosas and i love reading them! ik you say that people get tired of your yapping but i disagree. i genuinely could read pages upon pages of you talking about appalachian culture in d12, or lyrics that fit certain characters & why, or all the plot bunnies you come up with. also how uplifting you are about everyone's headcanons! you create such a positive vibe to share any and all ideas & it is very welcoming. (i would have likely stuck to silently reblogging posts if you hadn't sent me those first few asks about felix/sejanus & time travel - so thank you for that! i would not have been this engaged with others in the tbosas fandom if not for you <33) all that to say that i appreciate you as a person & think you are wonderful ^^

@meekmedea -- you are such an amazing writer! you're so skilled at writing compelling plots that get me incredibly invested in the characters. i swear you have singlehandedly gotten me aboard the ashcote ship in addition to being generally invested in clemmie & reaper as characters. also, i adore your thoughtful responses every time i menace you with asks - you have such interesting capitol lore with the mentors' parents & their names. and all your worldbuilding with the family mottos & backstories!! they're very cool! :D

☁️ — what made you choose your username?

answered in this post!

[universitypenguin]

Reissued Post - Backstory

Author's Note: Because Tumblr was having issues when I posted the original version of this, some of my followers are having trouble accessing it. I'm reissuing a few of my side piece stories so everyone can read them.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,132

Masterlist

When do you think Lloyd realized he cared and had feelings for princess? I recall in the story that the guys would give Lloyd a hard time when princess finally found a boyfriend that Lloyd would be devastated (poor thing 😭) I also kinda wanna know how he felt while she was dating Aiden. Obviously we know he didn’t like Aiden at ALL lol but did Lloyd ever feel hurt in a way watching princess go on dates with him and when she talked about him?

Learning about Aiden

“Why are you being such a space case?” 

You jumped at Lloyd’s question, startled out of your own little world. Scrambling, you shut your screen and re-focused. 

“Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?”

Lloyd’s sharp blue eyes narrowed. 

“Who are you texting?” 

“Uh… no one?”

He leaned back in his desk chair and looked at you steadily. You curled tighter into the couch on the other side of his office, looking down at the floor. 

“I still have that report to do… maybe I should go work in my office. I don’t want to distract you.” 

“I’m already distracted, Princess. What’s the big secret?” 

“I met a guy. You know that alumni mixer I went to a few weeks ago?”

Lloyd grunted. “Yeah.” 

“His name is Aiden LeDoux. He moved in similar circles to me during college. We kind of hit it off.”

“That’s LeDoux, spelled like the country singer? What state does he live in?” Lloyd asked. 

He typed the name into a search engine with the word, ‘Virginia’ to filter the results. 

“Twenty-six, graduated three years ago, and works for AVT security?”

“That’s him. What did you find out?”

Lloyd glanced over. “You haven’t run a background check on him?”

“No. That’s for when I’m deciding whether to go on a date with him. But I’m curious.” 

“Ah. Let’s do this.” 

Lloyd cracked his knuckles and leaned over his computer. Your phone dinged with a message from Aiden, which you responded to as Lloyd typed. 

“No speeding tickets, no parking tickets. His academic record was less than stellar. Apparently he subscribes to the philosophy that C’s get degrees.” 

“Not everyone is academically inclined,” you said. 

“But you are. What will you guys talk about on a date if you have nothing in common?”

“I don’t know. Football?” 

Lloyd snorted. “Doesn’t start until September.” 

“Oh. That’s why you’re not showering me with long winded descriptions of the athletic accomplishments of people I don’t know.” 

“You could always mention how happy you were that the Atlanta Braves won the Superbowl.” 

Your eyes narrowed. “I know that’s wrong, but I’m not sure which part.” 

Lloyd snickered. “If you have to comment, just say that you’re a fan of anyone who isn’t the New England Patriots.” 

“Noted. Anything else on Aiden? Slaps on the wrist from university institutions, or other authorities?”

“Ah-ha. He has three parking tickets at the university. And a complaint for under age drinking. You should reconsider the date. He’s clearly an alcoholic who steals parking spots. One of these tickets was for him parking over the line. Disgusting.”

You laughed. “Terrible. He was probably drunk when he parked. Maybe even high.” 

Lloyd toggled over to a different page, one that Jake had set up for him. He typed in Aiden’s information and was surprised to see several security clearances. He checked out the company he worked for and found they had several Department of Defense contracts. 

Lloyd memorized the contracts and filed the information away for future use. 

Just in case. 

Date # 1

You were wearing a short black dress with tights and a blazer. He’d noticed the hemline was shorter than usual, but the jet black tights made it work appropriate. The color only served to highlight the shape of your legs. Lloyd had tried not to be distracted. He failed miserably. 

It didn’t help that the cut of the dress perfectly flattered your figure. He caught a glimpse of a spaghetti strap underneath your jacket and the image circulated in the back of his head for the rest of the day. 

Fuck. He needed to get laid. 

You were his friend and he needed to put aside this nonsense. The chemistry between you would never be realized and that was for the best. He sometimes wondered if the chemistry he felt was all one sided. Maybe you only saw him as a friend and a coworker, not a man. 

“Has Y/N mentioned that she has a date tonight?” Jake asked. 

Lloyd stiffened. “No. Why?”

“Just wondering.” 

He tried to brush off the irritation, but it bubbled up throughout the day. 

You had a date. That was fine. It was what single people did, right? They went on dates. He could arrange a date of his own, if he liked. With an age appropriate woman and not someone who was starting on soft foods when he was choosing a college. Lloyd’s eye twitched. 

He glanced at the clock. If he wanted an update on the insurance investigation reports he needed to catch you before you head out. Reluctantly, he set off down the hall for your office. 

Your door was closed, so he knocked. 

“Just a sec!” 

Did you sound breathless? When you opened the door, he saw why. The black tights were gone. In their place was a different kind of tights, made of mesh with a floral pattern that wound around your legs making them look long and sexy. The blazer was gone and your dress was held up by the thinnest of straps connected to a tight fitting bodice. 

Your height was different, which prompted him to look down. 

Fuck me heels. That’s what they’d called shoes like that when he was young. As the saying went, ‘you can’t walk in them, but you can wear them in bed.’ 

“What do you think?” you asked. 

“Is this a first date?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you have any concerns about breaking an ankle? Or perhaps an entire leg?”

The shoes bothered him more than the dress. 

You laughed and turned to the mirror you’d hung on the far wall of your office. He watched as you applied a fresh coat of red lip lacquer. The shiny finish made him think it wasn't lipstick, but at the same time, it had more color than lipgloss. He wondered if it was one of those fancy products with the no transfer formulas. The kind women usually wore when they planned on kissing a man. 

A vibrant image of you on your knees with your lips around his dick came to mind. Lloyd shook his head to dislodge the image. 

“Okay, now what do you think?”

“You look beautiful.” 

He genuinely meant it.

“Really?” You tilted your head. “What’s missing? Please, just tell me.”

“Well… maybe it’s the context, but you don’t look like you in this outfit. It’s probably just me. I usually l see you in office wear.” 

You flashed him a smile. “That’s perfect. I’m going more for attention than authenticity, you know?”

He didn’t, and couldn’t untangle the concept behind your statement. The authentic you was a far better version than this glamorous photo shoot ready version of you. With a quick peck on his cheek, you skirted by him and down the hall to the elevator. 

Lloyd stood there, confused, disgruntled, and irritated that he hadn’t even asked about the insurance investigation he’d planned to bring up. He rubbed a hand over his face. 

Fucking hell. 

When he stepped into your office to lock the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. An imprint of red lipstick was on his right cheek. He stared at it for a long moment before he rubbed it away with his thumb. 

Lloyd returned to his office in a much better mood than he’d left it.

Date #3 

Jake had informed him of your last date, but this time it was Zach who let him know you were going on your third date with Aiden. 

Lloyd ground his teeth. 

“Careful there. Don’t crack a molar.” 

“Shut. Up.” 

“Would I do a thing like that?” Zach asked. 

He was grinning like a little boy with a sadistic streak and a magnifying glass on a bright summer day. 

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Heck yeah, I am. Have you met the dude?” 

Lloyd’s head swiveled. “No. Have you?”

“Yep. I waited outside, pretending to be on a call, so I could catch a glimpse.” 

“That’s creepy.” 

“No, it’s being nosy. I’m a private investigator. Being nosy is literally my job.” 

“Well?” Lloyd said. 

“He’s six foot three and probably weighs one forty. It’s like looking at a baby colt - all arms and legs, no substance.” 

This was great news. If you weren’t attracted to him this would probably be over quickly.

“Did you to talk to him?”

Zach smirked. “I texted her that you needed an update on the insurance case and cornered him in the lobby.” 

“She’s going to kill you when she finds out.” 

“I bought him a coffee and did a twenty minute interrogation. He didn’t even know what I was doing. He thought I was just being friendly.” 

Friendly wasn’t a word often applied to Zach Hightower. Lloyd got along with the Texan because they shared a devious streak and could lose themselves in the hunt; especially when the prey was other human beings. 

“Give me your impression.”  

“He’s squirrely. I don’t like him one bit.”

Lloyd focused completely on Zach. 

“In what way?”

“He used the phrase ‘I was in a mood,’ and not ‘my mood was.’ Stuff like that. Princess got pretty annoyed when she found me getting cozy with her boyfriend.” 

“She probably thought I sicced you on him.” 

“She asked me what I thought of him this morning and I had to dodge the question,” Zach said. “Landon noticed I didn’t answer and asked what was up. When I told him about interviewing Aiden, he said the mood thing is a sign of a personality problem.” 

“What kind?”

Zach shrugged. “The kind that makes you an asshole.” 

“She’s going out with him tonight?” 

“I guess so.” Zach said. 

A long moment passed as Zach stared at Lloyd, expectant. 

“Well?” 

Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to say something to her?” Zach asked. 

“You’re the one who thinks her boy toy has a personality problem. You say something.” 

“Landon said that, not me. I can tell he’s the kind of guy things just ‘happen’ to. The kind that doesn’t realize they’re responsible for how they act.” 

“I’m not going to disturb her relationship.” 

Zach sighed. “You’re such a bitchy little girl.” 

Lloyd sneered. “And you’re a nosy old woman.” 

“It’s my job, asshole.”

Date #5

Lloyd should’ve been suspicious when Zach brought him to a bar that didn’t have chandeliers made of antlers. 

Obstensivey, this outing was to distract him from your date tonight. When he found himself sitting at a table on the mezzanine of a place called “Club Violet,” questions should have come up. 

Jake sat to his left and Zach across from him. When Zach’s eyes began to stray around the room, Lloyd mimicked the behavior, almost out of habit. The lower area held the majority of the crowd. Its large dance floor pulsed with activity and the bar was packed. 

Then, he saw what Zach was looking for. You were perched on a barstool, your arms twined around Aiden’s neck. He was standing in front of you, his hands caressing your hips, straying lower than they ought to. 

Lloyd’s breath hissed. “Jake, if I throw Zach head first over this railing, do you think he’ll die?” 

“Huh?” Jake’s head snapped up from his phone. He stared. “What?”

“I could just snap his neck with my bare hands.” Lloyd’s tone was conversational. 

Jake looked between them and then back to his phone. “Landon will be here any minute.”

“Off topic, boy wonder,” Lloyd grumbled. 

“It’s relevant. We need two of us to break you up.”

“He’s been waylaid,” Zach said.

Lloyd glanced down and saw that your position had changed. You’d let go of your boyfriend to speak with a newcomer. Even from a distance in dim lighting, he could identify Landon’s fade haircut and the military straight posture. 

“Damn it.”

He snarled at Zach, who returned a Cheshire cat grin. 

“Well, well, well… look who's coming up the steps.”

Lloyd didn’t need to look. He knew you’d be on your way over. He covered his eyes and groaned. 

“I’m blaming you for everything. Everything.”

“Why are you guys playing the role of protective older brothers?” Jake asked.

“Because Aiden’s a squirrely little punk,” Zach said. “See? He isn’t even coming with her.”

Lloyd uncovered his eyes and frowned when he saw Zach was right. Aiden was still at the bar. He’d turned to a girl with raven’s wing hair and was chattering away, looking suspiciously like he was trying to pick her up. His eyes narrowed as something cold moved in his chest. 

You arrived on the second level with Landon and were rapidly approaching.

“What’s our cover story?” Jake asked.

“No cover story,” Zach said.

At least Zach was being straightforward, even if he was obnoxious. Lloyd tossed back half of his bourbon and hoped some liquid courage would take the edge off. 

Your eyes cut to Zach when you stopped at the head of the table.

“What are you? The Gladys Kravits of Bishop & Howard?” 

The big, blond Texan flashed a smile. 

“Why thank you, sweetheart. In my profession, that’s the highest compliment one could hope to achieve.” 

With an exasperated groan, you dropped into the chair beside Zach, and turned to Lloyd with an expectant expression.

“Can’t you collar him?”

“I’ve tried. Shock collars, choke chains… Nothing has worked.” 

Zach slung an arm around the back of Princess’ chair. 

“Your boyfriend is an asshole. Landon? You talked to him.”

“Just for ten seconds.”

You shared a look with the dark haired man and slanted Zach a sidelong glance. 

“You’re paranoid. I think you should see someone about that.”

He laughed. “I have. They can’t fix me.”

It was annoying that Zach’s arm had moved forward on your chair and was now pressed against your back. Did he think he was your best friend, rather than Lloyd? He had the urge to kick the other man under the table. 

You turned to Jake.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re right. These two,” he gestured to the older men, “are crazy. I think it’s age.”

“Shut up, punk. I can kick your ass any day of the week,” Zach said.

It was pretty much true. Zach only had two inches in height on the young man, but it was the solid 60 pounds of muscle that made him an immovable force. You couldn’t see the weight until he took off his jacket and even then, there was only a hint of the musculature. Zach never wore clothing that drew attention to his physique. He let it come as a nasty surprise to anyone stupid enough to mess with him. 

You were bantering with the Texan about him being your nanny. Lloyd watched closely and all he could see in Zach’s behavior was a paternal kind of affection. He knew a thing or two about Zach and because of that, he doubted there were any hidden motivations behind his actions.

What about Aiden had triggered Zach’s instincts? The way he talked. The lack of ownership of behavior. Lloyd tried to evaluate that on its own, treating it as fact. He could see the issue Zach was insisting was such a problem. Sitting there with the others bantering around the table, Lloyd turned his thoughts inward, pretending to present as he ran through the logic in his mind. 

He was paying enough attention to the conversation to notice you were gently trying to soothe Zach’s nerves. It seemed to be working, too. Landon was watching you closely and asking questions from interrogation school 101. By the time you left the table, pausing to hug Zach and reassure him that you were totally fine and had listened to all of his red flags, Lloyd had come to a decision. 

“What do you think?” Zach asked Landon when you were gone.

“I’m not sure. He seems insecure but hey, some guys of his age just are.” 

Zach groaned and shook his head. He picked up his beer and tilted it at Lloyd in a salute. 

“Look at the benefits of being nosy. I talked some sense into her.” 

Lloyd grunted. He waited for the right moment to corner Landon alone. He caught his shoulder and turned him away from the bar, where he’d been heading. 

“Come on. You don’t need another beer.” 

“Excuse me?” Landon demanded. 

“I want to talk to this Aiden kid. If Zach’s this worried about him, we need to check him out.”

“When did this become ‘we,’ rather than just you,” Landon asked. 

“Hurry up, we’re losing him.” 

Aiden was heading toward the door and the crowd prevented them from following as closely as they would have preferred. By the time they hit the sidewalk, Aiden was out of sight. Lloyd spun around, scanning the area. 

“Shit. We lost him.” 

“Is that him?” Landon asked. 

Lloyd whirled. 

He searched the crowd for a tall, thin man but didn’t find him. 

“Where?”

“With the blonde.”

Lloyd’s eyes narrowed on the silhouette of a couple standing in the shadow of a street lamp. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“No,” Landon said. 

Lloyd was almost ready to approach when the couple turned and began walking away. 

Landon grabbed his elbow. 

“Come on. Let’s not be weird. If you have something to say about Princess’ relationship, say it to her.” 

“What, exactly, am I supposed to tell her that Zach hasn’t already?” 

Landon snorted. 

“You know he’s only saying it because he knows you won’t.” 

Lloyd paused. “He is?”

“Yeah. We were expecting you to meet him at least before date number three. But she said you didn’t seem interested, so she wasn’t going to bother.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because we talked about it-”

“We? We, as in who?”

“Everyone. Except for you and Princess.”

Lloyd grunted. “Which is why Zach decided to get nosy.”

Landon shrugged. “He’s your best friend and you’re her best friend. It balances out. We get why you don’t want to step in, and that’s why Zach did.” 

They were nearly at the entrance of the club again, when Lloyd stopped short. 

“Should I be worried about this guy?”

Landon grunted, rocking back on his heels. The look on his face was all the answer Lloyd needed. 

“Right. I’ll look into it.” 

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Masterlist