#i hope my colorful commentary is helpful

[bonus-links]

Ahem, if I may impose.... Directors commentary?? 😁😁

YEAHHH lots to say abt this one

i know rule number one is don't point out the flaws in ur own work but i have to confess. i forgot to add hair highlights to this entire update. i didn't realize until i had already queued up the posts and i could not bear re-exporting and color correcting every page again. so i just let it be. it only kills me a little bit. they rlly add something y'know

i haven't seen a whole lot of comments about this to the point i worry i didn't do a good job of conveying it so: Loft's dream at the beginning is about ganondorf.

Loft has, in fact, chewed his nails to bits.

i'm gonna be so real, part of the delay for this update was bc my brain got so stuck on the logistics of where that damn bookshelf would go

korok bookends :D

i like to think the story of the hero of time is actually mostly an oral tradition on Outset, or at least that's how Gran Gran first told Link and Aryll the stories when they were children.

i worry a little bit about these 'lore recap" updates, bc like. I'm assuming you've played the games, or at least know the gist. but I feel like there's a few stories it's important for us to see Loft's direct reactions to, and the conclusions he draws from them, because it'll be important to his actions later. I try to make up for it by at least making these sections visually interesting HAHA i think this is the last major one though

on that note: I hope this comes across on its own, but Loft finishes Gran Gran's story himself because he's just realized the flood was sent by the gods, and not some external force of evil. he's also realizing that this is not the first time the gods have been willing to wipe the slate clean in the absence of a hero, and that it's actually something of a pattern. it runs up against his idea of how Demise's curse is meant to work. this is one such mystery mouseketool we'll use later.

also on that note: regardless of ganondorf's actions, i find it significant that the gods chose to destroy a man whose people suffered in a droughted desert with,,,,a flood. that thought was the conceit for this update

Loft has seen this play out in his dreams, but obviously doesn't fully know the context. also I'm gonna refer to this version of zelda as Sheik. he uses he/him pronouns thank you :-)

just wanted to show some closeups of the stained glass bc. i worked hard on them HAHA + the grayscale wip

i was really hoping this chapter would be done. last year. it was meant to be a chance to slow down for a second before the plot speeds up 😅 but we're nearing the last few updates!! thank you all for bearing with me <3 life has been kind of insane and extremely discouraging irl, so getting to post these updates and seeing you all enjoy them has been a real bright spot <333 special thank you to my patreon supporters bc. seriously it has helped more than you know.

i think that's all ive got for now! see you next time, hopefully sooner than 4-5 business months

[slytherheign]

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!” 

“Uhh… since last week?” 

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?” 

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

[hyunfilms]

love like this (han jisung) | one shot.

—summary: four years down with your boyfriend and still, no one else compares.

—pairing: bf!han jisung x f. reader

—genre: established relationship au | fluff

—word count: 2.0k

—warnings: nothing really; some cussing, lots of affection, kisses, mentions of alcohol and some alcohol consumption, music festival setting!

—on rotation: top tier - sunkis

—a/n: happiest of birthdays to my bestfriend @pearbunny! i know you've been missing jisung & the boys tough since lolla, so i hope this can bring you some comfort. forgive me if there's any mistakes - i literally whipped this up in the last hour lolol i love you!!! 🤍

“Baby, please don’t worry.” Jisung looks at you with his big doe-eyes, hands cupping your cheeks and giving them a soft playful squeeze. “We’re gonna have fun for your birthday, okay? No more stressing.” He runs his finger down your pout teasingly. “No more of this.”

“Fine.” You continue to look up at him with those pretty eyes, your body slowly relaxing in his hold. To be honest, you didn’t really know why you were throwing a fit— you were just worried about Jisung spending loads of money to take you to the music festival you had been wanting to go to as a birthday present. He wanted to do this, though. He wanted to go with you and have fun together, knowing you had been pretty stressed and mentally drained from work. He just wanted to see you smile, he just wanted to hold you and vibe together to music you both enjoyed, he just wanted you happy.

“I love you?” He says in a sing-song voice as he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose before planting one on your forehead. 

“I love you, too.” You playfully roll your eyes and finish packing your last minute things before vacation-proofing the apartment and catching an uber bright and early to the train station. 

The best thing about traveling with Jisung is him, himself. He’s the best partner in crime and always makes things 10x more enjoyable than it already is. The festival was on the outskirts of town, around a 2-hr train ride over. It doesn’t feel like it when you’re with your man, though— time always feels endless in the most perfect way, even after the 4 years you had been dating. 

You’ve never known a love like this.

On the train, you and Jisung share your pair of wired headphones to listen to Rotten Mango’s new true crime podcast episode. Jisung pauses every few minutes to discuss and debrief, barely leaving you guys time to start a new episode. He makes you laugh, especially when he makes those faces as the details of the case progress. You cling onto his arm and giggle onto his shoulder listening to his commentary and thought process and you swear, you could listen to him talk all day. You could listen to his little laughs, you could listen to the way he elaborates his thought process. You can’t help but lace your fingers with his tightly, placing a gentle kiss onto his neck, his jaw, just as the train is pulling up to your stop. Jisung holds onto your hand as he grabs your bags and hauls it out, expertly weaving through the wave of people exiting the train at the same stop. He doesn’t let you lift a finger and makes sure you’re taken care of well throughout every step of the way.

The airbnb Jisung rented is about 10 minutes away from where the festival is set to take place. It’s cute, it’s quaint, it’s perfect for the two of you. It’s a tiny in-law studio beneath a lovely house, the both of you having to walk through the side and through its sliding door to access the unit. The first thing you see when walking in is the bed neatly made in a thick, fluffy sage-colored duvet cover, with about 8 pillows [four big ones, four smaller ones for decoration] pressed against the headboard. Off to the right is the small living room and kitchen area— a couch and a coffee table in front of the 55’ inch flat screen TV. Down the hall would be the bathroom and a coat closet. The first day [or evening] of the festival was starting in a few hours, and Jisung knew you needed time to get ready. He presses repeated kisses to your lips just as you unpack and start getting ready in the bathroom, plopping onto the couch to order some delivery food you two could munch on before heading out.

“Baby!” 

“Yeah?” You respond as you continue to do your makeup in your tanktop and pajama shorts.

“The chicken is coming in like.. 15 minutes!” 

“Yay, okay!” All of a sudden, you hear Jisung’s feet padding over to the bathroom. He has music playing on the bluetooth speakers in the studio, softly of course, not to disturb the tenants upstairs. He leans against the door frame and has a huge smirk on his face, watching as you blend your eyeshadow on one eye.

“So hot.”

“I’m not even done with my makeup yet, babe.” You giggle.

“You don’t even need it, pretty girl.” He throws his hands up in defeat. “But, I know, I know. It completes the fit.” 

“You really do listen to me, don’t you?” You turn to face him with a small pout and he chuckles.

“Of course. I love the colors.” He leans to the side to get a better look at your eyes.

“Wanna pick my blush and lipstick?”

“Hm.” His finger rubs against his chin while he looks through your makeup laid out all over the place on the bathroom counter. He lifts a few options against your face, squinting to see his vision and which would fit best for it. “This.” He places the blush down in front of you. “And this.” He places the glittery translucent lip gloss next to it. “Pretty.”

“Thank you, babe.” You look up at him with the cutest smile, and he can’t help but peck the tip of your nose in a quick fashion.

“Can I do the blush and lip gloss for you?” He looks at you curiously, watching as you finish blending your other eye.

“Sure! I’m doing my lip gloss after we eat, though.”

“Good idea.”

“Here.” You hand him the blush and the proper brush, giving him some tips as he dabs the brush into the palette. He presses it light against your cheek, swiping it in the upwards motion that you keep mentioning. He swirls it around until the blush is blended well enough before moving onto the next cheek— taking a bit to the point of your nose. Then, he suggests [yells, almost] dabbing some glitter on the highest points of your cheeks just as he runs to meet the delivery driver outside. You take his suggestion, giggling as you complete your makeup look and throw on your outfit. Jisung sets the chicken out on the small kitchen counter, picking at a few pieces before he heads into the bathroom to get ready.

After another hour or so of eating, pre-gaming and adding last minute touches, you and Jisung finally head out to the festival. He’s sporting some black cargos with a black and lime green graphic tee, a distressed black denim vest with chains hanging off of its pockets. Your outfit is similar; black cargos that accentuate your curves and a lime green tube top under a black mesh shirt. While in the uber, Jisung holds up his promise of dabbing the lip gloss on your lips before snapping a few candid photos. You try to swat the phone away, causing him to laugh because in the end, he still manages to capture the best photos of you. 

Ones he’ll use as his wallpaper. Your contact photo. His home screen.

Everything about you, cause he’s never known a love like this.

When you arrive, the uber is having to drop you off a ways away from the main entrance gates and security due to the traffic. Jisung hands the driver a hefty cash tip before sliding out and grabbing your hand, leading the way to the gates. There’s a shit ton of people that are still making their way over and it slightly gives you anxiety having to be in such a crowded, chaotic space. You wait in line to enter, Jisung coming to the rescue by lazily wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“We’re almost inside, love.” He says against your head, pressing chaste kisses to help calm you down. You relax in his hold, especially when people are pushing and shoving— doing everything that they can to rush inside. It takes close to 20 minutes before you’re finally passing security and scanning your mobile tickets. Despite the line chaos, you’re incredibly happy you’re here. Reality settles once you and Jisung take a few photos together, your man telling you how to pose for all your solo shots. He laces his hand with yours, kissing the surface as he smiles down at you in pure adoration while you skip around and start bouncing to the beat of the music. You both approach a booth to buy some cocktails to sip on, Jisung buying the both of you strawberry margaritas [on the rocks] before you finally dance over towards the main stage. He lets go of your hand when you start vibing with the margarita in one hand, loudly singing along to the song that’s being performed. Jisung joins along, the both of you in your own little world— as if it ain’t nothin’ but the two of you and no one else. The sun is getting ready to set below the horizon; deep orange in hues, filing the skies with layers of pinks, purples. The stage lights are bright, jumbo screens focusing on the performers and the crowd vibing along. There’s a breeze that feels good against your skin as you continue to dance along; the setting being more than picture perfect.

“Oy!” Chan yells, surprising you from behind. You scream, almost dropping your margarita when you come face to face with your entire group of friends.

“What the fuck! Are you doing! Here!” You turn to look at Jisung, tears welling at your bottom lids. He can’t help but laugh, pulling you flush against him when he tries to wipe the stray tears that manage to escape. “Did you do this?” You pout.

“Baby.” He laughs. “Why are you crying? You know I had to get our friends out here for your birthday.”

“Don’t cry! Did you really think we’d miss out on your birthday weekend?” 

“Yes.” You respond with a small cry. Changbin laughs, him and the rest of your friends pulling you into big hugs and greeting you happy birthday into your ear. It takes a few minutes for you to stop crying because even though you hadn’t expected this to happen, you were beyond happy it did. Jisung knew how much your friends meant to you and how much you wanted to celebrate with them. It took a month of planning, bickering in a secret group chat and numerous phone calls to make sure everyone was on the same page before the festival came around.

You had no idea.

All Jisung wanted for you was to feel loved and celebrated, just as you deserved to be. Every day, every hour, every minute.

At this point, the sun has fully set and the next headliner has made their way to the stage. It gets hyped for the first half, you and your friends loudly singing and bouncing along. Jisung pulls you against him, giving you the opportunity to dance up on him while he keeps up with the rhythm. You and your friends are all vibing along, having fun— all with big smiles and loud, hearty laughs. When the second half of the set comes, it’s at a much slower-pace than the beginning, allowing Jisung to hold you from behind and sway along with you from side to side. 

“I love you.” He says against your temple as you hold onto him, smiling when you feel his lips press a sweet, feathery kiss to the surface. 

“I love you too, Jisung.” You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You tippy-toe to kiss him on the lips, his hands giving your sides a good squeeze. When you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips— deepening the kiss with no concern for anyone, anything, else. Because as far as he’s concerned, you’re the only thing that matters and vice versa.

“I love you so much, pretty. I hope you enjoy your birthday this weekend.”

“Thank you. For everything, Ji.” He smiles before kissing you once more. You turn back around to watch the performer on stage, singing and swaying along in Jisung’s arms.

“I got you, baby. ‘Til the end.”

[instantdoodlez]

Jashtober days 1-20

Alright, it's a while later than I was hoping to post it, but here it is. Same deal as the warmups, moving my art and commentary over from Twitter, because that site sucks ass <3

Day 1: Single. Didn't realize it meant like.. a music single until the day of, so it's pretty basic. Got a Mr Jash Like ™️ though, so that was a strong start to the project.

Day 2, Astral. Space themed Soul drawing. Soul is the Stars in my hc (the way that Mind is the sun and Heart is the moon in canon), so I figured it would fit well enough.

Day 4, Light. Nothing to really say on this one. (skipped day 3 since it was a duplicate prompt, 'power hour')

Day 5, Angel. My best try at what the angel at the gates in Chonny's inferno looks like. Biblically accurate because it's just cooler. Meant to add a normal-ass clipboard in their hand for the funny, but I forgot.

Day 6, Forest. Dear god, the background on this one killed me. Took many layers and overuse of the blend tool. On another note Mr Jash liked the post on twitter and that, yet again, jumpscared me (This is a pattern /lh)

Day 7, Moss. The little mushrooms were my favorite part to do. Didn't know I would ever call fungi cute, but the little mushrooms were my favorite part to do. Proud of this one overall. And it got Jash liked as well, so! 🎉

Day 8, Tidal. Jesus, did all my ship of theseus drawings do relatively bad in the algorithm. Anyways, this one was based on the fifth ship of theseus. Very pretty color pallete, cool colors.

Day 9, Cruisin'. This one was posted late because I couldn't get the shading right and just left it for the next day. Looks much better now.

Day 11, 8-bit. Dug out my old pixilart account to make this one. (Skipped day 10 because "apathy, haha funny". Also to help stave off burnout)

Day 12, Haiku. Heart coming up with his magnum opus (that line from Haiku/lh). This one's background took forever. Many different layers.

Day 13, Encore. Drew The Announcer, everyone's favorite eldritch horror story narrator. Props to GW for making me actually like Monster Mash, I don't even mind the original one now. Mr Jash liked this one too, so that's nice :]

Day 14, Reflection. Whole with a scribbled out face… cool design, and pretty visually interesting. Happy with this one. It also got jash liked.

Day 15, Momento. Had a hard time drafting this one before I realized "oh.. momento.. like.. momento mori.. I am very dumb". Regardless, very happy with this one. It's probably my favorite out of all the jashtober drawings I've done.

Day 17, Theseus. Based on the first Ship of Theseus song, a drawing of the shipmaker. (Skipped day 16 because it was another repeat prompt, Hindsight)

Day 18, Sunset. Based on the lines "When I woke it was daylight, and the clouds were pink / The sun was coming up or going down, I think" from Drink to Death.

Day 19, Savages. The crowd sure does love an upset.

Day 20, Crowned. Mind. Wanted to add a nightlight in the shape of the sun but the composition got too crowded, so I compromised with the lamp chain.

And, that's it! All 17 prompts I've done so far. I'll continue posting the rest of the Jashtober prompts one by one on here. Have a good day/night, and thank you for reading this far if you have!

[aifanfictions]

Write a story about (y/n) being the Phantomhive maid who helps Ciel and Sebastian with their cases and after going to the undertaker for information, Undertaker starts to slowly fall in love with (y/n)

Whims of the Reaper

In the grand halls of the Phantomhive Manor, (Y/N) continued her diligent work as the ever-graceful maid of the distinguished household. Each day, the bond with Ciel and Sebastian grew stronger, and her efficiency in managing the grand estate reached new heights. But, little did she know, the eccentric storm was brewing, ready to unravel the calm of her structured life.

The peculiar tale began on a foggy evening when a case took Ciel Phantomhive, the young Earl, and his loyal demon butler, Sebastian, to the Funeral Parlor run by the enigmatic Undertaker. The mortician had an unyielding fascination with death, and his macabre sense of humor was as peculiar as his profession. As they stepped into the dimly lit parlor, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a shiver down her spine. The Undertaker's peculiar aura was impossible to ignore.

Undertaker emerged from the shadows with a dramatic flair, a morbid chuckle escaping his lips. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, gleamed with twisted interest as he welcomed his guests. "Ah, young Phantomhive and Sebastian! What brings you to my humble establishment today?"

With an air of mystery and mischief, Ciel explained the nature of their case, and Undertaker was immediately engrossed. His odd commentary, a unique blend of the morbid and the surreal, left (Y/N) both intrigued and baffled. Her wide eyes darted from Undertaker to her young master and his butler, trying to make sense of it all.

As the conversation continued, Undertaker's fascination with their case was overshadowed by his growing intrigue in the unassuming Phantomhive maid. (Y/N) stood near the door, her presence both calm and bewitched by the eccentricities she was witnessing.

Undertaker couldn't help but be drawn to her. There was something about the way she furrowed her brow at his oddities, her innocence contrasting his morbid world. He longed to unravel the mysteries of her heart just as he did with the souls that came into his care.

When the business was concluded, Ciel and Sebastian prepared to leave. Undertaker's eyes, however, were no longer on the Phantomhive Earl but on the Phantomhive maid who stood near the door.

Approaching (Y/N), he leaned closer, his breath chillingly cool on her ear. "You, my dear, are not like the others who grace my parlor. You see, I find your innocence utterly captivating."

(Y/N) blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Thank you, sir, but I must be going now."

Undertaker's laughter danced with an eerie melody. "Oh, my dear, I hope to see more of you in the future. There is something truly delightful about your presence amidst all this death."

As (Y/N) stepped out of the Funeral Parlor, she couldn't shake the feeling that Undertaker was unlike anyone she'd ever met. His eccentricity and morbid fascination were a stark contrast to the life she led at the Phantomhive Manor. Yet, there was a curiosity in her heart, a yearning to understand the mysteries that lay beneath his peculiar exterior.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Undertaker's interest in her had awakened a dormant side of his own heart. His fascination for death and the unknown was slowly eclipsed by a desire to understand the living, to grasp the complexities of human emotion, and to delve into the enchanting depths of (Y/N)'s soul.

As the days passed, (Y/N)'s encounters with Undertaker became more frequent. His visits to the Phantomhive Manor, each more eccentric than the last, would soon become a peculiar routine. His fondness for tea parties, during which he regaled (Y/N) with tales of the dearly departed, gradually transformed into moments of lighthearted banter and shared laughter.

The Phantomhive household watched with varying degrees of amusement and concern as Undertaker, the eccentric mortician, attempted to court the Phantomhive maid with a perplexing mix of macabre curiosity and eccentric charm. While Ciel and Sebastian were ever watchful of the maid's safety, they couldn't deny the curious bond that seemed to be forming.

Undertaker's heart, hidden beneath layers of eccentricity and morbidity, began to beat in a way it hadn't for centuries. And for (Y/N), the journey was equally baffling and captivating, as she found herself inexplicably drawn to the reaper whose world was as mysterious as the afterlife itself.

Each tea party with Undertaker brought new tales, bizarre stories that ranged from tragic to utterly absurd. They reveled in laughter, the distinct camaraderie growing between the reaper and the maid, both trapped in a dance of eccentricity that only they could understand.

Yet, there was something that Undertaker couldn't quite put into words. A feeling that defied logic, a longing that went beyond the realm of morbid fascination. He found himself entranced by the way (Y/N) would touch her fingers to her lips when she was lost in thought, or the way her eyes sparkled with innocence when she found his bizarre tales amusing.

His attraction to her was a complex tapestry of desire and intrigue, woven with the threads of both life and death. He couldn't help but wonder what it was about her that had captured his reaper's heart.

(Y/N) too found herself intrigued by the peculiar reaper. She had never met anyone like Undertaker, whose eccentricity was a stark contrast to the rigid world she had known. His stories, while bizarre, held a unique charm, and she couldn't help but feel a strange fondness for the mortician who found delight in death.

Yet, as Undertaker slowly unraveled the enigma that was (Y/N), he couldn't help but wonder if there was room in his heart for a love that was as unconventional as he was. As the days turned into weeks, his courtship of the Phantomhive maid took on a new dimension, a blend of eccentricity and longing that defied the boundaries of life and death.

As the eccentric reaper and the charming maid embarked on this peculiar journey of affection, the Phantomhive Manor witnessed the unfolding of a love story unlike any other. The grand halls that once echoed with secrets were now filled with the whimsical laughter of a reaper who danced with the living and a maid who dared to uncover the mysteries of the afterlife.

And so, amidst the eccentricity and the enigma, Undertaker and (Y/N) were drawn into a love that was as peculiar as it was profound. It was a tale of fascination, an eccentric affection that challenged the conventional understanding of love, and it would continue to unfold with each bizarre tea party and every morbidly delightful encounter.

In the grand halls of the Phantomhive Manor, where secrets and enigmas abounded, the most unconventional love story was in the making, and it would continue to unravel with each tea party, every eccentric tale, and every moment of laughter that defied the boundaries of life and death.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[rosesbxrry]

Links for Sunghoon 🔞

Warnings: this contains nsfw links and explicit commentary imagines on my end. Afab! Reader. Minors do not interact. Of course, this is all fictional and none of the materials represents them.

a/n: this a new format of writing I’ve been indulging. It’s a lot of fun to write, and a lot quicker to complete while writing my other wips. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it and definitely helps that I was working on this while they drop the concept photos for the full version 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Main masterlist

He fucks you doggy style when you wear those cute thigh high socks

Sunghoon was quivering on his knees at the sight of you in a skimpy lingerie, a baby pink color that matches the sheer thigh-high socks. His dark eyes linger at the small bows adorn at the sides, and the carnal urge to fuck you in it takes over like a wrecking ball. He’ll squeeze the flesh at the top of your socks, leaving deep crescent indents on the skin from his fingernails. “You drive me so insane, you don’t even know it.” He groans against your neck, biting and sucking hickeys on your collarbone. “You act all innocent and look so sweet, but I know what a dirty mind you really have.” Your moan loudly, clawing at his back desperately when you feel him press his huge bulge against your stomach. He hooks a finger on the top of your sock, pulling at the elastic hem before releasing it to smack on the flesh of your thighs. “You dress up like my pretty little angel just to get fucked like a whore, didn’t you?” You whimpered at how delicious the impact felt, squeezing your thighs together at the pool of wetness drenching your pussy. With a devilish smirk on his face— Sunghoon felt the insatiable hunger at how your body trembles in his arms. “Ass up and head down, doll. I’m gonna make you regret wearing something cute to make me fuck the shit out of you.”

Bending you over any surface so he can fuck you full of his cum like a toy

Your upper body is not completely rested on the table’s surface, enabling him access to your tits— pulling and pinching on your nipples as he pounds you from behind. He’ll reach out to grope your boobs, loving how it threatens to spill from his grip at how much it bounces when he thrusts his hips hard and fast. His hands will move to your love handles, hitting that spot where you scream the loudest over and over again until your head is buried deep into the table’s surface, drooling at how good his big cock was stretching your pussy. Fuck, Sunghoon can’t get enough of this view of you— making him delirious and high on pleasure, and the wet smacking that echoes heightens the tension in the room even more. “Yeah, you like that? Like how I fuck your pussy like a toy?” He’ll taunt, watching your back tense up at his words. “Oh, fuck yes—“ You drawled out, eyes rolling and back arching as you felt his fingers playing with your swollen clit. He was not gentle with the ball of nerve, swirling it back and forth with the pace of his deep thrust. “So close, I’m gonna come…..” Another reason why he loves fucking you in this position? Once he pulls out after cumming inside, he will watch with hooded eyes at how you’ll spread your legs wide for him to see his thick milky seed dripping out of your spent pussy with a proud smile.

Sunghoon likes pinning you against the wall because he wants you close to him

He likes to show off how much he can pin you to the wall with just one hand, caging you with his built body until you feel his weight envelop your whole figure. He'll kiss you sloppily on the lips, swiftly hooking one of your legs around his waist. "I wanna fuck you so bad," He pushed his hard cock into you without warning, not letting you adjust to his size as he began thrusting. "I love you so much that all I want to do is fuck this tight pussy until you can't walk." The initial pain started to wear off, allowing you to clench your walls around him every time he pulled out. “I-I love you, Sunghoon…please fuck me harder….” You gasped out. He didn't waste his time, capturing your lips again in a deep, hungry kiss that took your breath away. You wrap your hands around his neck, deepening the taste of his tongue in your mouth. He did the same, sucking on your bottom lip desperately as he secured your leg closer to his hips. Passionate tension grew immensely ravenous, a suffocating notion that only this position could grant him. Sunghoon would do anything to make love to you at such proximity— ensuring that each other's attention was pledged to this moment's shared pinnacle of pleasure.

When he notices the twitch of your expression and the way your hot walls spasm around his length, it signals him that you are close and he softly murmurs close to your ear like a lullaby. "That's it, my love. Come for me."

When his guilty pleasure is to have passionate shower sex because you feel like heaven under the water

You know, the moment he uttered those words— still standing in front of your shared apartment, a slight nod in understanding from you was aimed his way. “Join me in the shower?” Something like this was nothing unexpected from him. Sunghoon would often feel burned out from his hectic schedule, and his way of reviving his dire condition at the end of busy work day was to have each other’s naked body together— letting the hot water shed the tense muscles under his skin. “Tell me if it’s too hot,” He said from behind, wet hair sticking to his forehead. You were perched on your back against his chest, holding you firm with his hands groping to feel your ample breast. You chuckled at his doting words, especially when he was buried deep inside of you the moment you were under the water.

“I want it to be hotter, can you do that?” You push your hips back, feeling the tip of his cock kissing the deepest end of your womb. Sunghoon let out a deep moan, kissing the expanses of your neck so that his lips were melting you to the bone. “Anything for my princess.” He starts to rock his hips back and forth, the movement causing your tits to rub against the foggy glass door of the wall. Somehow, the water softened the action, yet the intensity never faltered— a slow and soft rhythm that insinuated how raw and intimate his thrust was.

He wouldn’t pull out even after finishing, basking in the after-sex glow while cock warming you until the heat becomes pleasurably unbearable.

Touching himself when he misses you a lot after being away from each other

Sunghoon is a patient man; he can wait a little while to come home and indulge himself with the help of your presence.

However, his preservation was slowly crumbling in both body and mind. Evidently, he was becoming too horny, so he took matters into his own hands while pulling out his hoodie— the one you’ll always wear around the house with nothing but a lacy underwear.

Your faint smell was still there, enticing his body that sends blood straight to his cock. Sunghoon strips down naked, laying on top of the clothing as he teasingly ruts his hips to the thought of you underneath him.

He’ll let out a sharp inhale, squeezing his eyes at the friction of the hoodie against his hard dick. He imagines you’ll warp your legs around his hips, thrusting up to meet him halfway, moaning close to his ears to go faster and harder. Your erect tits will graze on his chest, causing him to buck into the hoodie deeper, rougher.

“S-Sunnghoon! Shit, right there— hmmm!”

He was so high at the thought of you that he could envision your voice moaning his name.

Sunghoon reached up to roll a nipple between his fingertips, the sensation causing him to leak out more precum with gritted teeth. His movement starts to pick up, ecstasy overwhelming his body from the tip of his cock to his heavy balls.

He needed one more push, taking his wet cock in a fist and jerking the length while thumbing the red slit— the way you always like to play with him. Sunghoon choked on a sob, arching his back while repeating your name like a prayer, ropes of hot cum shooting up to bathe his abs with white.

With a hand over his eyes, his chest was panting with exhaustion, reminding him to borrow maybe a pair of panties from you the next time he’s away.

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!

@forjongseong​ @skzenhalove​ @duolingofanaccount​ @sunnysunnysunnysunshine @sunnyjayjays​ @archangelaurii @won-shine @stnkyash​ @yoursjaeyun​ @hooneam @jjhmk​ @pshchives​ @heeseungssidechick ​@hoonslutt @hwihwi0o0 @seuomo @knowleeknow

[safficranger]

calex and its poor casey trying to drag her drunk wife home

I love the prompt, but I realized I might be a little out of my depth when it comes to writing about being drunk/tipsy. I tried! I really hope you like it!

thank you @habitsandbicycles for kickstarting my brain

Alex had nailed a big case that day, and there was no way Amanda and Olivia were letting her skip out on celebratory drinks. Meanwhile, Casey had decided to sit this one out, opting for a quiet night at home. She spent the evening finishing up some work before calling it an early night.

That peace didn’t last long. Her phone rang just after midnight, and when she saw Olivia’s name on the screen, her stomach dropped.

A call from a detective at this hour? Normally not a good sign.

She answered quickly. “Olivia, what’s wrong?”

“Relax, Casey,” Olivia said, her voice calm but clearly amused. “Alex is fine.”

Casey let out a breath. “What’s going on?”

“Well…” Olivia sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “Alex might’ve had a drink or two too many. Or, you know, maybe a few. I tried to get her to leave with me, but she won’t stop insisting she’s married. She keeps telling me she’s flattered but not interested.”

Casey laughed softly. “Yeah, that sounds like her. She doesn’t get drunk often, but when she does, she gets cute���and a little stubborn.”

“She’s definitely both right now,” Olivia said. “Think you can come get her?”

Casey was already pulling on her jacket. “On my way.”

When Casey walked into the bar, it didn’t take long to spot them. Alex was sitting between Amanda and Olivia, her laughter loud and full of energy. Amanda was animatedly explaining something—probably her latest misadventure on the job—while Alex was hanging on every word, occasionally chiming in with her own colorful commentary. Olivia, clearly amused, was trying to keep an eye on the situation.

The second Alex saw Casey, her face lit up. “Casey!” she called, practically leaping off her seat and stumbling over to her. “Look, everybody, my wife!” She grinned proudly, as if she’d just discovered the best thing in the world.

Casey smiled and wrapped her arms around Alex. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re looking... very happy.”

“I am happy!” Alex beamed, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “I won a big case, and now I have this gorgeous woman with me!” She gestured to Casey dramatically. “See? Married. Very married. To her.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow and smirked. “We believe you, Alex. No need to keep reminding us.”

Casey kissed the top of Alex’s head, her voice teasing. “Alright, honey, time to head home. You’ve done enough celebrating for tonight.”

Alex immediately shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m not even that drunk. I want to dance!”

Casey’s eyes widened. “You? Dance? You’ve never wanted to dance in your life.”

“Well, I do now!” Alex said, her tone more determined than anyone could’ve expected.

Casey grinned, trying to hide her amusement. “Alright, we’ll maybe save the dancing for home.”

Alex’s eyes lit up in a way that made Casey realize she may have said something that could be easily misunderstood. “Oh, we’re definitely dancing when we get home,” Alex said, her grin mischievous and all-too-knowing.

Olivia and Amanda exchanged an amused glance. Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle.

Casey shot them both a look, half-amused and half-exasperated. “You two are trouble, you know that?”

Amanda shrugged innocently. “Not our fault your wife is so… charming when she’s drunk.”

Casey’s only response was a sarcastic thumbs-up before she gently steered Alex toward the exit, doing her best to keep things from getting even more entertaining.

Alex stumbled slightly as her heel caught on the pavement, but Casey’s hand steadied her before she could go down. The cool night air was a welcome break from the stuffy bar.

“You know, Case,” Alex said, her gaze soft and affectionate, “I don’t tell you enough how lucky I am.”

Casey chuckled, adjusting Alex’s weight. “Oh really? And why’s that?”

Alex blinked up at her, swaying a bit. “Because you’re beautiful. And smart. And patient… especially with me.”

“I’m still deciding if you’re drunk or just sweet,” Casey teased.

Alex giggled. “Sweet, definitely.” She glanced up at the dark sky. “The stars are so romantic. We should walk under them forever.”

Casey smiled but shook her head. “Maybe another time, but not in those heels and not this far. You’ll twist your ankle before we even make it a block.”

Alex pouted, dragging her feet. “But I don’t want it to end.”

Casey sighed dramatically, pulling her close. “Alright, how about this? We’ll take a cab now, but if you behave, I’ll make you a big breakfast tomorrow. Pancakes. Your favorite.”

Alex’s eyes softened, and she couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. “Pancakes?” she repeated, “Okay, fine. I’ll behave… for pancakes.”

She paused, looking down at her heels with a wince. “And my feet really hurt, Case. These stupid shoes... so not made for walking.”

Casey looked down at Alex’s heels, her lips curling into a fond smile. “Yeah, they’re killer, but you look amazing in them.”

Alex let out a dramatic sigh. “Glad you like them, ‘cause my feet definitely don’t.”

Casey smiled softly, wrapping an arm around Alex’s waist to support her more. “As much as I love how they look, I want to get you home in one piece more. Let’s take a cab.”

Alex leaned into her with a contented sigh, her head resting on Casey’s shoulder. “You’re just too good to me.”

Casey kissed the top of her head. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. Let’s get you home so we can enjoy those pancakes tomorrow.”

Back at home, Casey guided Alex into the bedroom, gently helping her sit on the edge of the bed. Alex was still talking, her words running together as she rambled about the evening. Something about Amanda’s terrible drink suggestions, Olivia looking like “a majestic hawk” (whatever that meant), and how great it was to have friends.

Casey chuckled as she knelt to slip off Alex’s heels. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you ready for bed.”

But Alex had other ideas. As soon as her shoes were off, she tugged on Casey’s hand, trying to pull her closer. “Hey,” Alex said, her voice a little lower and slower than usual. “C’mere.”

Casey raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“You’re so pretty. Like, so pretty. How’d I get you? It’s not fair. You should’ve… run away by now. But you didn’t. You’re mine.” She grinned lazily. “So, let’s… you know… celebrate.”

Casey bit back a laugh. “Celebrate?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, leaning in, her nose bumping against Casey’s collarbone. “You said we’d dance. We could… dance here. Like, really dance.” She tried to nuzzle closer, her words slurring just enough to make Casey smile even wider.

“Alex,” Casey said softly, brushing her fingers through Alex’s hair.

“What?” Alex pulled back just enough to look up at her, her expression caught somewhere between mischievous and needy. “I’m serious. You’re… so hot. I can’t help it.”

Casey cupped Alex’s cheek, her voice warm and steady. “I love you. But not tonight, okay? You’re adorable when you’re drunk, but let’s save the ‘dancing’ for when you can remember it tomorrow.”

Alex blinked at her, her pout returning. “That’s so mean. I’m not even that drunk. I could… I could recite the Constitution right now if you wanted.”

Casey laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to save us both from that. Arms up.”

“Huh?”

“So I can get you into your pajamas.”

After getting Alex into her pajamas, Casey helped her settle under the covers. Alex, already drowsy from the alcohol, snuggled into the warm sheets with a contented sigh. Her eyes fluttered shut, but she was still holding on to Casey’s hand.

Casey climbed into bed beside her, adjusting the blankets to make sure Alex was comfortable. She pulled her close and she nuzzled into her chest, her breath warm against Casey’s skin.

"You’re so comfy," Alex murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric of Casey’s shirt.

Casey chuckled softly and kissed the top of Alex’s head. Alex’s breathing slowed, becoming deeper and more even. Her face softened as sleep finally overtook her, and she let out a tiny, contented snore.

Casey grabbed her phone, quickly sending a short text to Olivia, letting her know they’d made it home safely and thanking her for looking out for Alex. Then, she snuggled closer to her wife and soon drifted off to sleep herself.

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

Hide-n-Seek

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader Word Count: 3.9 K CW: 18+, minors DNI. (spoilers) fake weapons, tight spaces, alcohol consumption, minor character minor injury, some steaminess, but no smut (in this part). {Author Commentary: Here's my (belated) Halloween party fic! I hope it can offer a pleasant distraction. Here's an 80s/90's music playlist I listened to, to give the party vibes. I still ended up writing myself into a part two, oops. I hope you all find this brief trip (back) in the closet enjoyable. (tell me you laughed.)}

“Because the 80s just understood horror. The 80s were the HIGHT of horror-”

“Josh might argue that with you, but I see the vision…”

You stood next to your friend at her kitchen island, looking out at the gaudy Halloween decor expertly placed in every corner, and along every wall. The atmosphere was made complete by a series of alternating colored lights, and scattered light-up decorations, beaming through the generally dark apartment, -and a booming 80s rock/ballad playlist. It really did feel like a movie.

Because you’d had work that day, you’d arrived a bit later than some, but not the majority. Some friends had arrived early to set up, and others to help each other finish assembling their costumes. The energy was immaculate as you’d strutted in in your costume. The lights were already down, the music loud, and your friends had turned from pouring their drinks in the kitchen to greet you jovially, and squeal in support as you gave a twirl.

A ‘Huntress’ was the title you’d officially given your costume, though it wasn’t based on a particular franchise character, just a high fantasy concept you liked. You’d landed on a long, dark green dress, with high, high slits up both thighs, a fitted bodice, and draped sleeves that hung around your arms in a goddess-esque fashion leaving your shoulders bare. Of course, the key accessory was a faux gold archer’s bow that you wore over your shoulder, cross-body style, and a quiver of arrows ‘-a clever disguise for a purse-’ , all complimented by your smokey metallic eyeshadow, delicate gold hair jewelry, and body chains. You loved Halloween, and your friends knew to expect nothing less than an all-out costume. 

You’d joined them in the kitchen to secure your first drink of the night. As you were laughing along and adding a silly eyeball candy and gummy worm garnish to your drink. Another gaggle of people exited the bathroom down the hall. Amid the mixed chatter you heard Jake’s distinctive soft rasp, laughing in mock distress “no, really- I think it’s enough- please let me go free- this outfit doesn’t even require makeup-” and a responding laugh “Yeah, but of all the days to wear makeup- how could you deny me??” Your other friend, a big makeup enthusiast, and nothing short of an artist, followed him down the hall, giving him a playful shove. 

The group all ended up in the kitchen, to refresh their drinks. “Oh yay!!” they welcomed your new presence, and you mutually geeked over each others’ costumes. “You two!” The host jokingly huffed, gesturing with her raised glass between you and Jake, who was in the corner, filling a flask he’d pulled from his pocket, avoiding the swarm of welcomes, “Leave it to you two to go the hardest, in your own fucking direction.” You and Jake took in each other’s costumes, laughing along. They were certainly of a similar genre, and in sharp contrast to the general decor. 

His knight costume consisted of a shiny silver gorget and pauldrons, adorning his chest and shoulders, and a chainmail mesh top that barely covered his midriff. One of his beloved swords was secured by a leather belt on top of his dark, drapey, high-waisted trousers which were cuffed just over his signature boots. Your eyes made their way back up, smirking again at his midriff, before properly seeing his eyes. They had the faintest smudge of charcoal grey concentrated around his water line, expertly blended out by your friend to be almost unnoticeable, blending seamlessly to the faintest shift of iridescence around his eyes and the highlights of his face. It didn’t even register as makeup, alongside his already distinguished features, and long half-waved hair, it simply enhanced his mystical aura, making him look like a character from a fantasy game. 

He grinned after giving you another once over while screwing the top on his flask and slipping it in his pocket.

��Damn, maybe I should’ve let her go full smokey eye on me, if im up against you” He made his way around the kitchen island to properly greet you in a half-hug, careful not to spill the drink in your hand. 

“Hmm, are you sure you’d want to compete with me?” You narrowed your eyes in a playfully challenging way.

His smirk twisted to the side before he deftly slipped your drink from your hand and took a sip. 

“Mm. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

He returned the drink to you, drying his mustache with his free hand before giving your arm a final squeeze with the other and following the crowd to the living room. You laughed and shook your head, turning back to your friend who was hosting. 

“Damn, he’s really dialed up to 11 tonight.” You chuckled, glancing back towards him before making your way to the buffet covered with snacks. Your friend just raised her eyebrows and smirked at your turned back. You stocked up a little plate of snacks before the two of you went to find a comfy seat among your friends in the living room as the apartment filled with people.

Several hours, and many rounds of drinks later, you were sat in an armchair, almost falling over the arm in an enthused conversation with a friend of a friend you had recently bonded with over an underrated album preference ‘-and a decent level of tipsyness.’

You paused as you heard a group of people enthusiastically cheering. You looked up at the group as the host stepped toward the middle of the living room.

“Ok, party people! Who’s ready… for Hide-n-Seek?”

Normally getting a group of adults to play Hide-n-Seek would be a hard sell, but the energy in the room was just right, and loud cheers could be heard from around the apartment. The host announced she’d be seeking first, and that would be starting “riiiigghhhhht.. Now.” with a clap of her hands and som gleeful shrieks, people began darting around. The apartment was nice, thanks to her success in the arts. It had multiple floors, and even guest rooms, perfect for a game like this. You giggled to yourself after waving to the person you’d been talking to and scurrying off to find a spot. You made your way upstairs, as many others had. At the third and final landing, facing down the hallway of the smaller third floor, you saw a double-door closet but walked right by it. ‘Wayyy too obvious.’

You passed a bathroom and heard some muffled giggling. You made your way to the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. You opened it and instantly heard a yelp. You quickly stepped back into the hall, slammed the door closed in front of you, sparing the blur of two people, that had apparently been making out in the room. You backed away from the door, giggling and covering your reddening face. “So sorry!”, you called before making your way back down the hall. The seeker’s countdown was already nearly over, causing you to quickly settle for the closet.

You suddenly realized your drink was still on the coffee table in the living room. However, ywour thoughts of sneaking down to get it were cut short. You heard footsteps climbing the stairs, and you instantly felt crestfallen, knowing it was likely the seeker, and of course, if they came to this floor they’d be checking the closet first. You found yourself holding your breath as the footsteps approached. One of the doors creaked open, and you were ready to let out a defeated groan when a finger pressed softly to your lips. Your eyes widened as a grinning Jake stepped in. He effectively backed you into the other half of the closet as he hastily pulled the door closed behind him. Your brow creased in annoyance as you realized what was happening. You pulled his hand away, removing his shushing finger from your lips as you whispered indignantly; 

“Jake, this is my hiding spot.”

“Yeah I’m kinda surprised by that, actually, it seems kinda too obvious to be your first choice…”, he whispered, still grinning at you. You rolled your eyes, “And what? Were you too busy batting your eyelashes at someone to secure a better spot?” you snarked back at him. His eyes narrowed curiously, his smirk remaining.

“I was gonna ask what could’ve possibly stopped you from getting a good spot, but now I’m much more curious about that little statement… Why does the thought of me flirting with someone ruffle your feathers so much?”

Your face reddened, thankfully he couldn’t see it in this lighting, right? You didn’t want to validate his implication with a response. 

“Did you at least fill your flask before coming to commandeer my hiding spot?”

He smiled at you devilishly, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling it out. He unscrewed the top before handing it to you.

“How chivalrous” You took a sip, your eyes taking him in before meeting his smirk with a challenging one. “Tell me, was it customary for knights to wear eyeliner?”

“Hazards of the side gig,” he joked, “something of a habit I picked up on the last tour… and a lot of warriors historically wore face markings and stuff…” 

He unsheathed his prop sword, resting the dulled tip on the floor, striking a knightly pose; chin held high, his lips pursed slightly in the same way they often did when he was playing, and his chest puffed exaggeratedly. You giggled slightly, covering your own mouth to stifle it.

He smiled down at you, satisfied that he’d made you laugh. He let his eyes run down you slowly in the dim light. 

“And for …Archers…?” 

You were about to correct him but you inhaled abruptly as he skimmed the cool flat side of the blade along the exposed side of your upper thigh.

“Is this… ‘customary’?” His voice was still low and soft as his eyes trailed the tip of the blade.

You swallowed, looking down at the blade. His eyes flitted to yours. “It’s a prop sword, it’s not sharp, you can touch it.” He assured you. You hadn’t been worried about that, but still, the invitation intrigued you. You reached down and lifted the the tip of the sword, experimentally pressing the pad of your thumb to the thin, but inevitably dull edge.

“Hmh.”

You lifted it to your eye line, inspecting the dulled tip before pressing the pad of your thumb over it. 

“Careful now…” His voice was hushed and deep. His warm hand rested over yours, gently prying your fingers off the blade. He chuckled at you as his other hand sheathed his sword. You retrieved your hand, clearing your throat as you adjusted the string of your bow. 

“Just had to verify, I do have the superior weapon.” You shrugged one shoulder matter-of-factly.

“Pardon?” He raised an eyebrow at you, tilting his head in a challenging manner. 

You smirked, deciding to push it. “Not just in prop form,either. Swords have no range, they’re only good if you want to walk right up to your opponent.” 

“And what’s that bow gonna do for you when there’s someone right in front of you?” 

The two of you had grown closer, “Hmh, I don’t know, I’m pretty good with my hands. …And legs.” Your leg swung around to playfully hook the back of your calf around his. To your surprise his warm, calloused hand caught your leg under the knee, hiking it up so your leg hooked around his hip. The silky fabric of your skirt slid back, parting fully and leaving your entire upper thigh exposed. You’d reached for him as your balance wavered. One of your hands had grasped the back of his neck, the other landing on his waist -half of your palm met the fine chainmail, half met his warm, soft skin. He was already holding you steady though. His other arm had wrapped around you, holding the small of your back. 

“Jake- ‽” you gasped in surprise.

Your faces are now inches apart. The sound of each other's breaths become the only audible thing. A streak of golden orange light from between the double doors illuminated a segment of his face; a fanned dark eyelash, a golden streak in his deep brown iris, the peak in the bridge of his nose, and the seemingly permanent upward curl in the corner of his full lips.

“fuck-” it escaped you in a hushed exhale, though not for entirely the same reason you'd previously been whispering. Jake's head tilted ever so slightly as he took in your reaction. You gathered your wits before he could open his mouth to say anything.

“Jake. We’d be heard.” -‘Certainly not a circumstance you'd ever thought you'd have to voice that sentiment to someone.’

His smile widened, as you confirmed what you’d been considering. He pivoted smoothly till your back was pressed against the back wall of the surprisingly shallow closet. As he leaned in to speak close to your ear the side of his face brushed yours, so, so, tantalizingly.

“You don’t think you could stay quiet? Is that all you’re worried about?”

As he spoke lowly, his thumb began trailing back and forth across your thigh. A suppressed but undeniably desperate whine sounded from you. 

“If I recall,” his hand had started gliding up the back of your thigh, “you’re particularly competitive…” his grip tightened slightly, gripping the fullest part of your thigh, “and you love a challenge…”

His words trailed off as he inhaled your scent and slowly exhaled, his warm breath cascading down your neck. Your hand that had held the back of his neck now found his jaw. You urgently lifted his head so you could finally press your lips to his. God, his lips were like nirvana, full and soft, and fervently melding with yours as he kissed you.

Your hand gripped his side, pressing the chainmail into his skin momentarily before you adjusted your grip to sink your nails into the lush curve of his waist unobstructed. He hummed against your lips as his hips pressed harder into yours. Your bow pressed sharply into your upper back but didn’t register as a problem. His hand that was still resting on your lower back kept it from the wall, furthering the sweet pressure of his hips against yours.

You’d just pulled your lips from his to take a desperate breath when suddenly a tumbling crash and an obscene exclamation came from the stairs.

You both jumped apart as your heads whipped around. By the sound of it, someone had fallen down the top flight of stairs. Instinctively you both stepped through the doors to go help your friend. As you peered down the stairs, the bathroom and bedroom doors down the hall both opened and your friends poured out of their hiding spots to see what had happened.

You and Jake had made your way to the landing, urgently attempting to assist your friend who’d landed on the second floor. A gaggle of people had gathered around as they’d made their way up and down the respective staircases to the landing. Several voices called out asking what had happened, and if everyone was ok. Someone had paused the music so you called out “It’s ok, we’ve got her.” Your friend had tried waving you off saying it wasn’t bad, that she’d just slipped on a portion of the string lights that were woven between the balusters. You refused, asserting that you were going to get her some ice as soon as she got downstairs. After she’d stood up and waivered from a clear pain in her ankle, Jake eventually convinced her to let him help her down the stairs.

You watched him shift his belt so his sword was out of the way and he stooped to lift her -her arm around his shoulder, and her legs draped across his arm. He made his way slowly and steadily down the stairs. The colored lights glinted off the armor still adorning his shoulders, and his hair that fluttered behind him as he descended. ‘He really is a knight in shining armor…’. You snapped back to reality as you all got to the ground floor and Jake swiftly turned towards the couch. You headed to the kitchen and got a soft ice pack before hurrying back to the living room. Jake had set her on the couch and she was chatting and giggling with the people gathering around.

The crowd parted for you and gradually people dispersed to other areas of the room as the music started up again and the party resumed. You knelt by the couch, gingerly resting the pack on her ankle. You looked at her and shook your head with a light laugh. “Do you have an ace bandage or something? This is gonna need some compression unless you want your ankle to swell up. ” She sighed exasperatedly, not one to accept doting. “Yeah, it’s in the bathroom cabinet.” You glanced over your shoulder at Jake, who’d stepped aside for you to apply the ice pack. “Can you grab it? And an aspirin or aleve or something.” Jake nodded and headed off.

When you looked back at your friend her eyes were locked on you. Knowingly. She broke out into giggles as you looked around curiously.

“You know… I wouldn’t judge if the two of you wanted to slip out early.”

“--What?” You practically spluttered.

“You. And Jake.” She stated she stated with a self-assured grin.

The question of how she knew formed on your face, but before you could ask she pointed to your thigh. “It left a mark.” You looked down and saw a wide pink stripe across your exposed thigh, mirroring where Jake’s sheath had pressed into it while you were against the wall. Your face instantly heated up. 

“That and the tension is THICK, tonight, like even worse than usual.”

“Usual?”

She gave you a deadpan look before chuckling again. Jake had returned with an ankle wrap, a bottle of painkillers, and a cup. “Here we are.” He handed the wrap to you with a quick smile before handing her the cup and opening the bottle, beginning to shake two pills into the cap. “Ooh, a drink?” she took it before looking into the cup and frowning. Jake just chuckled “That’s called water.” You chuckled as you gently wrapped her ankle, and secured the end. She took the pills from the cap in his outstretched hand and downed them with the water before holding the cup up to him “Now can you get us a real drink, pretty please?” 

He pursed his lips, glancing at you. You nodded and he bowed his head with a pursed smirk. “Alright, what d’you each want?” “Something strong, whatever inspires you when you get to the kitchen,” she waved him off as he chuckled and shook his head, heading for the kitchen. 

The moment he was out of earshot she locked in on you again. “I’m serious, you should give it a chance. I’ll be fiiinnne. I’ll find someone to help me to bed, -you should have him help you to bed- ” You scoffed and swatted her leg as she giggled. “Uegh, that was bad.” “Yeah, yeah, …but you’re thinking about it.” You sighed exaggeratedly. She reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “He’s a good one. Gallant. Noble.“, you both giggled before she continued in a genuine tone, ”And not just as a knight. I’ve known him a while, this isn’t even the first time he’s saved my ass. If you’re interested, you should go for it.” You chewed on your lip as Jake rounded the corner of the couch. He handed your friend her drink, then you yours, smiling down at you. 

“How’s our patient?” 

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. Your friend’s knee nudged you and your eyes snapped back to see hers smirking over her cup at you as she took a sip. You took a gulp of your drink -strong but sweet, perfectly blended as usual- and stood off the couch.  

“She’ll be fine.”

You took Jake’s hand and abruptly started towards the door. You could hear your friend giggling into her cup. He fell into step with you without question, despite the slight bewilderment in his face.

“-Where…?”

“We’re leaving.“ 

“Oh- good.”

You set your cup on a random surface as you grabbed your bag from the hooks in the front hall. You turned to see Jake taking a large black corduroy jacket from the front hall closet. He curled a finger around the string of your bow. “May I…?” You nodded and ducked your head as he lifted it up and off of you. You held it as he placed his jacket around your shoulders. Your eyes gleamed up at him as he straightened the collar.

“Did you drive here or-?”

“Yep.” he nodded.

“And are you…?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I’m good to drive.”

As he closed the passenger door behind you, you marveled at the car’s interior. ‘It’s definitely vintage…’. The seats were black and teal leather, bench-style -‘maybe a Mustang, or a Camero…’. The back door on his side opened, startling you. Jake leaned in, placing his armor in the back seat. “Just me,” he reassured, “want to put that back here?”. He held out a hand for your bow, and you nodded, handing it to him. 

As soon as he settled in the driver’s seat and pulled his own door closed, you leaned over, holding the side of his face and kissing him urgently. He kissed you back, and you felt him smile against your lips. His hand turned the key and the motor rattled to life. A soft rock ballad started from the radio as he lifted his hand to mirror yours, gently cupping the side of your face. You shrugged off his coat, as the car started warming up significantly. His kiss was slow and sweet, even as you shifted to face him more fully, kneeling on the seat next to him. 

You pulled away, resting your forehead against his. 

“Mine? Or yours? Or we could just find somewhere to par-?”

“Taco Bell?”

“What?” you pulled back slightly, giggling at his suggestion. 

“Are you hungry at all?”, he offered, "I’m happy to sleep at either of ours, I just thought I’d get something to eat before we head home.” His free hand stroked your upper arm as he waited for your response. You deflated slightly as it registered. 

“You don’t want to…”

“Of course I want you,” his thrumb stroked your cheek, “but you’re drunk, darling. You don’t want it like this, trust me.”

“Why’d you agree to leave with me then?”

“Well, I’d still like to hang out with you… but if you want to be dropped off, or you want to go back into the party, that’s obviously fine too.”

You considered for a moment. Being away from the loud music and colored lights of the party atmosphere, you were acutely more aware of just how much the alcohol had caught up with you. 

“...Are tacos still on the table?” you met his eyes again.

 He nodded “Of course.” 

You grinned at each other before you leaned in and pecked his lips again. 

“...and a sleepover?”, you asked quietly.

“I’d love to.” He placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

{Thank you all for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think!}

{Tag List: @star-boxer @doodle417 ​ @greta-van-chaos ​ @weightofdreams-gvf​ ​ @gretnabancheese ​ @shutupdevvie ​ @holdingup-fallingsky @t00turnttrauma ​ @groggyvanfleet ​ @garagebandvanfleet ​ ​ @gretavanflowerpowerrr @razorbladekiszka ​​ @hyperfixated-gvf ​​ @pippin-jay @rhythm-of-space @allieisacrybaby @hearts-hunger @twistedmelodies @ageofwagner @silks-up-my-sleeve @cal-a-bungaa @carbondancingthroughtime @indigofallingsky @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @gretasmokerising @joshsindigostreak @satans-helper @lacuna-moon @suzi107 @fantazmagorical96 @meetingthestarcatcher }

{Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) }

[dixonsdarkelf]

QOTU: A Little Friendly Competition Part 1

Summary: Going on dates wasn’t always a guaranteed good time. Vec has had her fair share of shitty dates, but the nerves she had for this particular one were for a different reason. She truly liked this one, and she wanted it to go well. Thankfully, Scud shared the same sentiment, and it made for one of the best nights of their lives.

Third installment is finally here! Apologies that this one took longer than I anticipated. We get to see Vec & Scud's first date. I've been so excited to post this one, it's kinda stupid. I hope this pleases the council ('the council' is what we have dubbed our QOTU readers).

PS the shirt he's wearing is the one from the movie where he's talking to Whistler about his scars, just FYI. He just looks so good in it I had to use it. And massive thank you to @dixons-sunshine for help with the summary 🖤

Era: Pre-apocalypse, a bit over a year before the outbreak

Word count: 8.1k (this is my longest one-shot to date and it's only part 1 lmao I'm so sorry)

CW for swearing, some suggestive commentary. You are responsible for your own consumption.

We're also cross-posting on AO3 if you prefer to read it there!

My AO3 Krys' AO3

Upon hearing the vibration against the wood, Vec took her phone off her dresser, a small smile gracing her lips when she realized it was a message from him. Running a hand through her hair and brushing her bangs from her eyes, she opened the message, blood flowing to her cheeks and turning them from their normal pale to baby pink.

Josh ☺️: I can’t wait to see you later. It’s been too long 😉

They’d been talking for weeks, texting on and off throughout each day and even having a few phone calls in the evenings. During one of those phone calls was the first time he called her “Vee,” which quickly became his special nickname for her. Immediately following that conversation, she ran to Georgie, standing in her bedroom doorway and blinking repeatedly before whispering “he has a nickname for me” in the most lovesick tone possible.

She’d hardly stopped talking about this ‘cutie with the bandana’ in recent weeks. Now, it was time to make their first date a reality.

“What kind of makeup are you thinking?” Georgie asked. She began rifling through a stack of eyeshadow palettes Vec kept on her dresser, opening each to examine the colors before setting them down. “I know you usually like to keep it lighter on first dates.”

“Nah, I’m wearing that full-coverage shit,” Vec commented, pulling a small glass bottle of foundation from the drawer, “I’m not about to be looking like a tomato all night long.”

She spent hours curling her hair, having to take a break halfway through and recruiting her best friend to help finish the job when her arms got tired.

“Gin, can you help me?” Vec practically begged as she stepped out into the living room, half of her head in curls while the other remained pin straight.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask,” Georgie chuckled, setting her stack of papers on the glass coffee table to join her in the bathroom. Every time Vec curled her hair, she insisted she could do it all herself, and every time, she requested Georgie’s help somewhere between halfway and three-quarters of the way done.

As a surgeon, she typically wasn’t allowed to have her nails painted. However, since she was off for a couple of weeks taking some much-needed and well-deserved PTO, she decided to treat herself, opting for some black acrylics. electing to keep them short as long nails could make date night plans more difficult.

She also recruited Georgie’s help in picking an outfit, the pile of different dresses, skirts, and more on her bed becoming too much to sort through on her own. Walking back into the living room, she simply grabbed Georgie’s hand without saying a word, taking her back into her room for her to get an eyeful of the mountain of clothes occupying her place of rest, and Georgie knew just what that meant. Vec hated to pull Georgie from her work, but she also knew if she didn’t, one, she would never hear the end of it, and two, she would never be able to garner up the courage to leave the house.

“You didn’t already have your outfit picked out?” Georgie teased, grabbing different tops off of hangers and adding them to the pile, “what, are you gonna go in your scrubs?”

Vec chuckled, the sweet sound of amusement rising from the depths of her chest sounding like music to Georgie’s ears. “I mean, he has already seen me in them, and he still seemed to be into—“ she paused and used her hands to gesture up and down her body “—all of this.”

The pair eventually settled on something simple, pairing a long-sleeved black sweater with a black skirt and a pair of fishnets. Taking extra precaution, she slipped a pair of shorts on under her skirt, the shorts long enough to just cover the tattoos on the back on her thighs.

Grabbing her favorite fragrance off her dresser, she gave her neck, décolletage, and wrists a few spritzes, rubbing her wrists together to ensure the scent settled. The little bottle of vanilla-scented spray was a gift from her mom for her high-school graduation, and it had been dubbed her “lucky perfume” after many an instance of it coming clutch. She only wore it for the most special of occasions—her white coat ceremony, Match Day, her birthday—and this, a first date with a man she was already falling head over heels for, was a very, very special occasion.

Taking one last deep breath and draping her hair over her shoulders, she gave herself one final look-over in her mirror and flattened her sweater. She did one small twirl, watching her skirt flow around her thighs and her curls bounce as they settled back into place.

Making her way back into the living room, she stood in front of her best friend, who’d been spending her evening grading papers when she wasn’t helping her prepare for her date. She anxiously cracked her fingers before repeatedly wiggling them in some pathetic attempt to rid herself of all the nervous energy cooped up inside her body. “What do you think?”

Looking up from her work, a massive smile spread across Georgie’s face as she took in the sight of her bestie before her, all dolled up and dressed to impress. “You look hot.” Giving her a slow up-down with her eyes, something caught her attention. “You’re not wearing the push-up this time?”

Vec was a smaller gal, some curves but nothing crazy, and her chest was by far her biggest insecurity. She always wore the only push-up bra she owned on dates, attempting to boost her confidence by making her small chest not look so small. This time was different. “No. I’m, uh, going for…authenticity this time.”

“Wow. You must really like this one,” Georgie commented, setting her red pen down on the table and rising to her feet. She could only think of one other occasion where her Dia hadn’t worn that illustrious push-up, and that was back in undergrad.

“Yeah,” Vec replied in a sickly, tooth-rotting tone, her cheeks becoming flushed under her full-coverage face. She twirled away from Georgie long enough to slip on and zip up her combat boots.

“Well, he’s a lucky man, getting to take you out.”

Pacing the living room of their shared apartment, she kept her eyes glued to the floor as she began gently scratching at the side of her left thumb with her index finger, the primary telltale sign of her anxiety. “Gin, I feel like I wanna throw up and die.”

“Throw up, sure, yeah. That makes sense. And I’ll certainly hold your hair back if you do,” Georgie assured, crossing over from the couch and standing off to the side of Vec as she continued to pace. She followed her with her eyes back and forth from the entryway to the TV stand and back again. “But die? That feels a bit overdramatic, even for you, Dia.”

“Not helping.” Her tone was unintentionally stern, and she was immediately kicking herself. “I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just so worked up, and not in the fun way.”

Georgie couldn’t help but snicker in response. Even when she was “worked up, and not in the fun way,” her best friend was still cracking jokes and being her overdramatic, unhinged self. “Just try to take a deep breath, okay? Think of this as a day out with one of your friends, just a casual get-together. Less pressure that way.”

“Right…just a hangout…” Vec whispered between deep breaths, “…until one of us is flirting every two fucking seconds.”

“And if anything goes wrong on this ‘hangout’, I’m only a phone call away, remember? I’ll drop everything and come to you if I need to.”

“I know. I’m just super worked up right now. I mean, what if he thinks I’m too bold?”

She snickered again, this time a little louder and with a hint of surprise in her tone. Never had Vec been concerned about being “too bold,” especially for a man. For her to be worrying about something like that meant this ‘cutie with the bandana’ must’ve been special. “It sounds like you were pretty bold back at the auto shop, and he seemed into it. I think if he thought you were “too bold” then you wouldn’t be here now,” Georgie assured, “and if he does decide you’re “too bold,” then it’s his loss.”

Slowing down before coming to a stop, Vec finally ceased her pacing, turning to Georgie as she adjusted her glasses on her nose. “You’re right. I’ve already been pretty bold. I’m just stuck in my own head.”

“Well, let’s get you out of there then.” Georgie stepped closer to her and began brushing hair out of her eyes, adjusting her curls, and looking her outfit over to ensure there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. “Tell me what the plan is again.”

“Umm, I’m meeting him at the bowling alley, and I’m not sure after that,” Vec explained, resting the urge to bite at her bottom lip as to not get lipstick on her teeth, “we might go get food or something, I don’t know. I feel too sick to eat right now.”

“Babe, can you take a deep breath for me?” Georgie asked. Vec nodded, and she forced herself to take a deep, calming breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. Georgie placed her hands on her shoulders before meeting her gaze. “You’re going to be fine. I’m sure once you get there, all of your nerves will just melt away. You’re Lydia Rae Vector, the best way this man could be spending his Friday night.”

Vec would’ve been lying if she said the mini pep-talk from her Ginny didn’t do a number in terms of boosting her ego. “Well, I don’t know about the best way, but definitely a good one.” She took her phone out long enough to look at the time before sliding it back into her bag. “I should get going. I’m supposed to be there in twenty minutes. And you know me, gotta get there early.”

“Don’t forget to—“

“I know, I know. Text you every time I change locations and call with the code phrase if things get sketchy.” Every time one of them was headed out on a date or a hookup, they always reminded the other of their golden rule, as if they hadn’t been doing it their entire friendship.

As she headed out the front door, Georgie called out to her one last time. “Stay safe, have fun, and use protection! Not necessarily in that order, but you know what I mean.”

Vec rolled her eyes and scoffed as she poked her head back in the doorframe just long enough to respond. “Thanks, Gin.”

The bowling alley was only about a 5 minute drive from her place, but given the Friday night Atlanta traffic, it took her almost the whole 20 minute window to get there. After speed-walking through the ever-growing-dark parking lot, she leaned against the first counter she came across, which happened to be empty. She sent a quick text to let him know she was there and where in the building to find her. She also send a message to Georgie, letting her know she’d made it safely.

Vec: Made it. Just waiting for him.

Vec: I still wanna throw up and ✨die✨

Ginny 🌻: You’re gonna be fine. And if you don’t feel fine, I’ll be there before you know it 💛

The next message that made its way through to her was from none other than her date, and given that it was their agreed meet-up time, she figured he had to be close.

Josh ☺️: What are you wearing?

Josh: ☺️: Y’know, so I can spot you 😉

Vec: You’ll see 😉

A few minutes later, she was greeted from behind by a pair of hands over her eyes, hovering just over her glasses. In a normal situation, she would’ve whipped around before the person had a chance to say a word and clocked them in the nose. This situation was out of the ordinary in the best way.

“Guess who?” the familiar voice behind her greeted, chuckling softly.

“Gee, I wonder.” Her tone was sarcastic, amused, and flirty all at the same time, a combination that sent the mechanic’s heart plummeting into his stomach and joining the butterflies already making a home there.

“I’d offer a hint, but that would give it away,” he teased. He hoped that, even though he didn’t give the hint, she’d still catch on to what it was going to be. And catch on she did.

The fucking bandana, she thought. She didn’t say anything, but the giggly scoff that met his ears told him everything he needed to know.

Finally removing his hands from her eyes, he tapped on her shoulder to get her to spin around. Her curls bounced on her shoulders as she turned, her skirt flowing around her thighs catching his attention. At the mere sight of her, his stomach was doing backflips, and when their eyes locked, he knew he was in for one of the best nights of his life.

“Hi!” she greeted. The tone of her voice had changed to one of sheer delight, and there was almost a sparkle to it. She roped him in for a hug, her arms sliding around his neck and his instinctively traveling to her waist. He was elated about her desire for physical contact. It was a short hug, but it was just long enough for him to get a whiff of the sweet vanilla perfume on her neck.

“Damn,” she laughed, bringing her head back up and gently brushing a few stray hairs from his eyes, “no bandana this time, huh?”

He kept his hands on her waist as she worked, moving strands from one side to the other of the natural parting on his scalp. It wasn’t intentional the way his hands stayed planted there and subconsciously pulled her closer. He was simply too enraptured with the sight before him to do anything about it. “Figured I’d let the hair down for a change. But look at you. You clean up good, doc.”

“Clean up good” was an understatement, he thought. She looked beautiful, damn near ethereal, the shimmer on her cheekbone catching the fluorescent light above them. Even curled, her long hair still reached down past her chest, and the shade of dark purple lipstick she’d picked out made her cerulean eyes pop. It took everything in him to not plant one on her right then and there.

After fixing his flyaways to her satisfaction, she folded her arms over her chest and took a moment to admire him. His jeans looked damn near brand new, if she had to guess, and hit button-up was open just enough to expose his collarbone. He was wearing the same choker she’d seen on him back at the auto shop, the same choker she fantasized about curling her finger around and pulling him in for a kiss by. He was a work of art as far as she was concerned. “So do you, mechanic man,” she replied. She was well aware of his hands still on her waist and too wrapped up in the moment to care. They could’ve stayed just like that, talking all night, and she would be happy.

“You smell nice.”

“Thank you. It’s my, uh, lucky perfume.”

“What makes it so lucky?” he inquired, the usage of the L word piquing his interest.

“I only wear it for…special occasions.” She was already starting to blush under all her makeup, but thankfully, her full-coverage foundation kept the blood rushing to her cheeks a secret from her date. “And usually, said occasions work out in my favor.”

“Honored to know I’m such a ‘special occasion.’” It was in that moment, when her gaze dropped to the floor for just a second and he was pulled from his trance, that he became overwhelmingly aware of his hands on her waist that had been very slowly creeping towards her hips.

“Shit, sorry.” He didn’t pull away abruptly, but rather let his hands naturally pull away, and now, it was his turn to get a little pink. “Guess I got distracted.”

Her mind echoed Georgie’s words from earlier in the evening. Think of this as a day out with one of your friends, just a casual get-together. Yeah, that’s certainly going well so far, she thought, a smile breaking out on her face from her thoughts and the compliment from him.

“You don’t need to apologize. Does it look like I was bothered at all?” she laughed, “believe me, if I’m bothered by something, you’ll know.”

Her laugh in response provided him some relief and gave him the confidence to take her hand, running his fingers over hers and looking at his reflection in the glossy black acrylics that adorned her nails. “These look cool. Bet you don’t get to do this too often, given your job.”

“Uh, no…no, I don’t, really.” She had to fight to keep herself from sliding her fingers in between his, resisting the pull she was feeling to lock their hands together.

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve painted mine to match,” he smirked. Now, it was her turn to have the butterflies in her stomach working overtime.

Had he painted his nails before? Yes, on more than one occasion. Did he currently own a bottle of black nail polish for himself? Not at all. If she indeed had let him know what she was doing, would he have went out and bought one just to match her? Absolutely.

“I love a man who breaks gender norms,” she gushed. Her fingers trailed up to the base of his-rolled up sleeve, goosebumps forming on his skin as she worked upwards. She tugged on it gently, and her lashes fluttered as she brought her gaze from his bicep back to his eyes. “I like this shirt, by the way. It looks great on you.”

“This old thing? I don’t really pull this one out much. Glad you like it.”

“You should pull it out more often.”

That sentence in another context would go crazy, she thought, doing her best to stifle the laugh trying to creep its way out of her chest. But she was a woman who wore her thoughts all over her face, and the smile she was fighting to make smaller told him that her mind had taken the statement in a more nefarious direction.

He couldn’t help but laugh at her attempt to keep hers contained, an amused smirk crossing his lips as he did. “C’mon, I already got us set up. Just gotta get shoes.”

As she turned to round the corner, his hand trailed to her upper back, taking the end of some of her curls between his fingers, though he was careful not to dishevel them. “Guess I didn’t realize how much hair you really got. It’s still so long. How you get it all to fit in that cap you gotta wear?”

“A very tight braid and lots of practice,” she explained. His hand moved under her curls to rest on her back, migrating down to her waist. They’d only been in each other’s presence for maybe five minutes. Already, he was hardly able to keep his hands off her, and Vec was eating that shit up.

“What made you wanna grow it out?” he inquired as they approached the shoe counter.

“I like to go to renaissance festivals and dress up for them. The long hair makes for some cool styles.” An idea struck her, and she was already reaching for her bag before she could get her next sentence out. “I have some pictures. If you wanna see, I mean.”

“Hell yeah, of course I do.”

Opening to her photos, she selected the album titled ‘ren fest(ivies)’ and clicked on the first picture. “My best friend likes to sew, so she helps me make them.” She handed her phone over to him before turning to the shoe counter, their fingers lightly grazing each other as they did. Just like that fateful day back at the auto shop, the sparks that generated between them could’ve lit the entire city of Atlanta. “You can just scroll through to the end.”

As he scrolled through, he got to feast his eyes on different pictures of her posed in medieval skirts and corsets with weapons that would make any fantasy nerd proud. Like she’d said, the long hair did in fact make for some sick hairstyles, and as he continued, he found himself having to swallow a couple of times to keep himself from drooling. He could vaguely hear her comment her shoe size to the man behind the counter. Eight, maybe? He couldn’t be sure. All of his senses were focused on the pictures of the goddess in front of him.

“Wow.” It came out more matter-of-fact than he anticipated. He was enamored, and it was more than evident based on his boyish grin and the way his eyes closed ever so slightly, like he was high. “You look…” his voice momentarily trailed off before he found it again “…beautiful, badass, all of it. Your confidence is top-notch.”

She looked up from the spot she’d taken on a nearby chair as she finished tying the laces of her bowling shoes. The way he called her ‘beautiful’ had her stomach doing backflips. “Thank you. I’m already planning my outfit for the next one.”

After he put on his shoes, they headed off to their lane. His hand found her waist again as they walked, and he kept it there, like he was guiding her through a large crowd despite not a single person being in their way. She didn’t mind one bit. In fact, quite the opposite. She’d began making mental notes about what she could do to further encourage the behavior.

“I put our names in already,” he said, nodding in the general direction of the small kiosk at their lane. Peering over the frame of her glasses, she chuckled as she scanned over their names on the screen above them. Hers read ‘Vee,’ but that wasn’t the funny part.

“‘Scudster’? Really?” she laughed, that sweet giggle trailing off her tongue to meet his ears again. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard him refer to himself as that, but it was still entertaining nonetheless. “You’re so unserious, you know that?”

“I like to think my “unserious” vibes are part of the charm.” As the pins came down at the end of the lane, he took a bowling ball in his hand, gently spinning it around as to not drop it. This time, it was his turn to be struck by a positively brilliant idea. “Hey Vee, what do you say we turn this into…a little friendly competition?”

The doctor cocked an eyebrow at him, her curiosity quickly piquing, which was evident by the look in her eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s say…if I win, I get a kiss.” Immediately fearing he’d been too forward, he waited with bated breath for her to respond or do anything that would indicate she was comfortable with the situation. When her contagious smile appeared again, her pearly whites on full display, his shoulders relaxed, and that little Machiavellian smirk of his crept onto his face.

“Aah, I see.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she racked her brain for what she could say in return. What did she want from him? Just about anything. What did she want to know about him? Everything. “Then if I win…you gotta tell me your deepest, darkest secret. And it better be a good one.”

“Lucky for me, I’m good at bowling.” Judging by his tone and resting smirk, he was feeling rather confident. “Prepare to get shredded.”

He’d put her name in first, so he kindly grabbed one of the balls and held it out to her. “Ladies first,” Scud said, giving her a friendly smile.

Vec wasn’t a complete rookie when it came to bowling. She’d been before, although it had been a while, and given the little skills she had back then, she was certain they’d since faded away. She was almost positive she was going to get “shredded,” but she didn’t dare let it show, lest he already start to think he had the upper hand.

Taking the blue bowling ball in her hands, she stepped up to the lane, rolling it back and forth in her hands and staring down the pins at the end. It’s my favorite color, she thought, that has to mean something, right?

“So how did you get into dressing up for ren fests?” His question rang in her ears as she took her first shot, his voice catching her by surprise and making her stumble. She missed her center shot, the balling rolling off to the side and into the gutter, not hitting a single pin as it traveled into the darkness at the end of the lane.

“Wow,” he teased as he approached her, “should we have put the guards up?”

“That’s not fair,” she jokingly whined, her smirk turning into a playful pout, “you distracted me.”

“Fear not m’lady, you got one more shot,” he assured, stepping away only long enough to bring the bowling ball back to her.

“So to answer your question, I’m big into fantasy shit.” She lined herself up again, taking a deep breath to help her focus. “You know Disney movies at all?”

This time, he waited until after she took her turn to respond. While the ball didn’t roll into the gutter this time, it was no strike, just barely knocking a couple of the pins over on one side. “Sure do. My favorite’s The Fox and the Hound.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Scud looked over his shoulder long enough to give her a cheeky grin before lining up his first shot. Though he was determined to win their little friendly competition, he was far more interested in listening to what she had to say. “My favorite growing up was Sleeping Beauty. It was my ‘gateway drug’ into the world of fantasy. Got me into the Lord of the Rings, going to ren fests, and eventually dressing up for them.”

He rolled nearly dead center, knocking every pin over with a single strike. He turned back to her, that same cheeky grin on his face. “Oh you’re just showing off now,” she groaned, that playful joking pout making a second appearance for him. And oh, how he was loving it.

As he’d told her during their initial meeting, he’d been on the market for a while. He needed someone that could joke around with him, be able to laugh at themselves, was unapologetically authentic and genuine to their core. So far, she was checking all of those boxes and then some.

“Told you I was good.” Stepping back to her, Scud brushed some stray hairs out of her eyes, tucking them over the side of her glasses. There was hardly any, not enough to have bothered her at all, but it was enough for him to do something about it. He was looking for damn near any excuse to touch her in any capacity. And the little smile that crept up every time he did? He’d do anything to see that.

“Anyway,” she commented in an attempt to bring the conversation back, “I used to watch it so much that I’d constantly be singing the song from it around the house when I was little. My brothers used to make fun of me for it. All in good fun, of course, but they’ll still sometimes bring it up just to get under my skin. Y’know, the way siblings do.”

“You close with ‘em?” He was already lining up for his second shot of that turn, her standing over his shoulder, but far enough back to not get hit by his arm when he swung.

“Oh yeah. I have a few, we’re all really close. They’re all older. Joined the military right out of high school. Became Navy SEALs. They’re some of my best friends.”

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone—hell, he was hardly able to admit it to himself—but the mention of multiple military big-brothers did put him a bit on edge. In his mind, all it would take was one wrong move for them to come knocking on his door. He didn’t know much about the different branches of the military, but one thing he did know is that Navy SEALs were not to be fucked with.

“Don’t got any myself.” He took his second shot, once again landing another strike. Vec was beginning to wonder if he’d chosen bowling for a first date on purpose as a way to show off a little. “Had a lot of cousins growin’ up. Having kids my own age around was nice. That’s dope that you’re so close with yours.”

“I definitely got lucky. I certainly never taken them for granted.”

They continued chatting as they took turns, Scud occasionally doing a tiny fist pump when he made a strike. It wasn’t perfect, he didn’t land every single one, but it was damn near close, and Vec knew she had no chance. Still, she did her best to maintain her confidence and give the illusion that she believed she could actually win.

Every chance he got, he was grabbing her bowling ball for her, ensuring their fingers touched each time he handed it over. Even though she wasn’t nearly as skilled as he was, he hyped her up any time she knocked over even one pin. He was a jokester, and their playful, teasing banter had the butterflies in his stomach working overtime, but he also wanted her to have fun and feel good about her abilities.

“Now the big-ticket question I’ve been wanting to ask—what made you wanna become a doctor?”

“It’s kind of a silly story,” she sighed as he returned the bowling ball to her. She’d become accustomed to receiving rather snide comments when answering that question, and her evening was going too well to have it ruined over her response to a classic first-date question.

He picked up on her hesitation, the regret settling in as he worried he possibly struck a nerve or unintentionally brought up a touchy subject. He hoped a sprinkle of humor would provide some encouragement. “This is the Scudster you’re dealin’ with. Silly is my middle name.”

‘Scudster’ made her giggle and eased her nerves, so she decided she’d tell her story, hoping to whatever might be out there that he wouldn’t think it was stupid. “When I was three, one of my brothers got into an accident, landed himself in the hospital. One of the surgeons was this beautiful woman with long auburn hair, and she was wearing a floral dress and a white coat. Me, being three, saw any woman with long hair and a pretty dress and thought she was a princess, as most little girls do.”

“So I asked her. Toddled right up to her as she was talking to my mom and asked her if she was a princess. And she crouched down to my level with the biggest, brightest smile on her face and said “of course I am!” Then I turned to my mom and said “Mommy, I wanna be a princess when I grow up!” Princess, in that moment, meaning someone who wears pretty dresses and a white coat and saves lives like the way the pretty lady in front of me was saving my brother’s. Of course, as I got older, I learned what a doctor was, but I never wavered from that decision. Not even once.”

She waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything. The first thing he did was laugh, but not in a mocking way or a ‘wow, that’s stupid’ kind of way. It was the laugh of someone who’d just heard a baby giggle or watched a puppy chase their own tail. “That’s probably the most adorable thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

“You sure it’s not silly, not even a little bit? Most people think it is.” He gave her an empathetic sigh as his hand found her shoulder, and he subconsciously drew small circles with his fingers, hoping it would offer some solace. How could anyone find such a wholesome and precious story silly or stupid?

“You’re a smart woman, Vee. I’m sure you’ve gathered that I’m not “most people.” It’s super cute. I may be “unserious,” but I’m no liar.”

“Well thank you,” she replied, batting her lashes as she briefly dropped her gaze to the floor. They reveled in that pocket of time for a few moments, his hand still drawing small circles on her shoulder, and she brought her baby blues back to meet his. Blue was her favorite color, and the specific shade of his irises was quickly becoming her favorite one. “What about you, bandana boy? What got you into being an auto mechanic?”

“I used to work as an inventor. That’s just more of a hobby now.” He stepped away long enough to take the red bowling ball he’d been using for his next turn. “My dad taught me stuff about cars when I was younger, so that and the inventor skills carried over nicely into being a mechanic.”

Vec’s ears perked up at the mention of the word ‘inventor.’ Given how fascinating he already was, she didn’t think it was possible, but he’d just gotten a lot more interesting. “An inventor, huh? That’s so cool! What kind of stuff do you make?”

He took his turn before responding to her inquiry. “Used to make weapons for this guy. One might say he was kind of a sketchy character, but he was a nice guy. Never gave me any trouble unless he was up my ass about not getting something done fast enough.”

“You’re cute, funny, and you have cool hobbies? It’s like I won the jackpot or something.” She blinked a few times and shook her head gently, like she was shaking herself from a trance, before stifling a breathy chuckle and locking eyes with him. “I’m doing the thing again, aren’t I?”

She’d been bold from the moment they met—hell, even before that, given the initial bandana comment she’d made about him to his boss—but he found it cute that there were moments that she thought she was being ‘too much.’ He’d never once thought she was too much. There weren’t any words in the English language that captured how much he loved how forward, brazen, and shameless she was.

“Told you I liked how bold you are,” he assured, giving her a delicate pat on the small of her back, “I’ll be right back. Gotta hit up the little boy’s room. Try not to have too much fun without me.”

As he sauntered off, she took the opportunity to check in with her best friend. Leaning back against the kiosk, she took her phone from her bag and saw that she had a new message from Georgie.

Ginny 🌻: How’s it going? ☺️ Are you having fun? 💛

Vec: I don’t think it could be going any more perfectly. I can’t wait to tell you about it 💙

Vec: He’s kicking my ass though

Ginny 🌻: Can’t have that, now can we?

Vec: Well, it wouldn’t be so bad if he won ☺️

Ginny 🌻: Oh???

Vec: Maybe he’ll get a little 💋

Ginny 🌻: OH 👀

Chuckling softly to herself, she slipped her phone back into her bag, returning it to its home on the kiosk. She tapped her foot on the floor, taking a deep breath and focusing on the clicking of the bowling shoe on the wood. It was a small attempt, but she hoped it would be enough to rid herself of the anxious energy creeping through every inch of her body. When he was around, it was like all of nerves channeled themselves into her flirting, but the moment she was alone with her thoughts, she was spiraling.

“Didn’t have too much fun without me, did you?” His voice startled her, but not enough to make her jump.

“Of course not,” she replied, giving him a gentle nudge to the shoulder with hers, her voice laced with sarcasm. He scanned his baby blues over her face, stopping briefly on her lips before meeting hers again, and for a moment, she thought he might plant one on her.

He wanted to, though. He badly wanted to. But his own nerves, and the thought in the back of his mind of her military brothers kicking his ass if he made a wrong move, were getting in his way.

“The glitter looks cool,” he complimented, haphazardly gesturing to his own cheek.

Despite the gesturing, she cocked an eyebrow, confused. “What glitter?”

“Tilt your head up,” he instructed, but before she could do it on her own accord, he had his fingers under her chin, gently tipping her head back and adjusting the position until her cheekbone caught the light, “to the side, a little more, there you go.” He tapped gently on her cheekbone, careful not to ruin or smudge her hard work. “Right there.”

Vec was clenching her teeth to keep herself grounded in reality. If she didn’t, she was certain she would fold on the spot. Every time he touched her, she was ready to melt like putty in his hands, and she just hoped he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of her cheeks from her blushing.

“Oh, that’s highlighter,” she explained, “it’s a shimmery powder you put on areas you want to…well, highlight, make stand out.” She shook her head softly to allow the highlight on her nose to catch the light. “Got it here too.”

Everything she said, he looked at her like it was the most damn interesting thing in the world, regardless of how ‘unimportant’ it seemed. Even something as simple as the shimmer on her cheekbones intrigued him, and it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“You’re gonna have to show to me how you do that. It looks great.”

“I’m not a professional by any means, but thank you.” She tore her eyes from his long enough to look up at the screen and see that it was their last turn for this round.

“I’d love to be able to make a strike, even just once,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I could help. Get you set up perfectly and all that,” he offered. He didn’t even bother trying to hold back how eager he was. “If you want, that is.”

“Yeah.” Her smile softened as she met his gaze again. “I’d like that.” The look in her eyes and the way she said “I’d like that” had his heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage.

He grabbed the infamous blue bowling ball and met her at the lane, standing behind her after handing it over. “So you gotta line it up just right.” His hands found her hips, keeping his touch light as he coaxed her to shift to the center. “This good?”

“It’s great,” she replied, her voice cracking as she fought to control her anxiety. She’d hoped that the nosies of other families surrounding them would mask the crack in her voice, but his breath tickling her ear as he chuckled told her otherwise. Despite her boldness, Scud had noticed her getting flustered all evening, and to him, it was nothing short of adorable.

“You wanna aim just off of dead center to account for it curving.” Now, it was her turn to have her heart hammering against the inside of her ribcage as he adjusted her arms and straightened her shoulders, all while keeping his spot right behind her.

Taking a deep breath to calm down—both from the mounting pressure she was placing on herself to make a strike and having a handsome man who couldn’t keep his hands off her mere inches from her back—she followed his directions to a T, rolling just off of dead center and allowing the ball to curve as it traveled down the lane.

Boom. Strike.

“Oh my God, I did it!” Vec cried, twirling in circles a few times before launching into Scud’s arms. She threw her arms around his neck, practically squealing with delight, the excitement coursing through her body rapidly bubbling over. His chuckling in her ear was one of the sweetest sounds she’d ever heard. However, when his arms snaked around her waist, it occurred to her she might’ve gotten a little carried away. “Shit, sorry, I got excited.” She went to pull away, but he kept her in place, wrapping his arms around her further until her chest was flush with his. He wanted to stay in that little pocket of time forever.

“Don’t apologize.” He was reveling in the moment, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be feeling sorry for it. “You crushed it, Buttercup.”

She picked her head up to look at him, her curls tickling his cheek. Despite only a subtle cock of her eyebrows, the confusion on her face was obvious. “What did you call me?”

“Buttercup. Like the Powerpuff girl. Seems fitting for you.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You should, ‘cause it was certainly meant to be one. She’s always been my favorite.” She looked beautiful with her face done, but he loved seeing her blush with every compliment he gave. He could only hope she was turning red under her makeup. And she certainly was.

“Hair got all messy,” he teased, looking over the strands that had fallen in her face and flipped around her part, “guess it’s my turn to fix yours.”

He did the same as she had before, taking different chunks and moving them back to their place so her part was nice and straight again. It didn’t take long, but during those few seconds, her knees went weak, and if she hadn’t been so focused on holding herself up with her arms around his neck, she would’ve collapsed. He thought about putting his hands in her hair to fluff it before calling it quits, but he opted against it, the thought of her military big-brothers creeping back to the front of his mind. They were going to be the death of him.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a round to win.” His mischievous joke elicited an eye roll and a giggly scoff from her.

The moment he made his final strike, he did one last fist pump, turning back to her and playfully sticking his tongue like a child. “Told you you were gonna get shredded.”

She was blushing so hard this time, she was positive her cheeks were glowing & the heat radiating off her face would melt her foundation right off. She loved piercings, tattoos, any sort of body modification. Upon seeing his, her mind immediately went in the most nefarious direction imaginable.

“Whoa, you have a tongue piercing? That had to have hurt like a bitch,” she exclaimed, doing her best to mask how flustered she was despite the crack in her voice and the double take she did.

“It did, but it looks dope, so it was worth it. You like it?” She more than just liked it.

She’s definitely thinking what I think she is, he thought as a little smirk broke through, but he didn’t mind at all. He was flattered that her mind was going in that direction, and he would’ve been lying if he said his wasn’t doing the same.

“Yeah, it’s awesome. I love piercings. I’ve only got my ears done, but I don’t even get to wear earrings often because of my job. Can’t have a stud falling into somebody’s intestines or something.” She pretended to clear her throat to prevent her voice from breaking further. “Anyway, that was only round one. We’ve got two more. I still have a chance to beat you.”

Those next two rounds were much the same, consisting of them chatting and getting to know each other throughout their turns with plenty of flirtatious touching to accompany it. Despite some assistance from him, he crushed her in every single round. As it was a Friday night, it was rather noisy and busy in the bowling alley, but it was like they were the only two people in the room. They were in their own little bubble, as far as they were concerned, a bubble they could’ve stayed in eternally if they were allowed to.

“I’m a doctor, not an athlete.” she joked, balancing herself on the counter to finish putting her boots back on.

“You still did good,” he commended. When she finished with her boots, he propped his arm in her direction, indicating to her to take it if she wanted. “Guess we’ll just have to come back so I can teach you.”

Gracing him with her soft smile, she took his arm, delighted with the clear enthusiasm he had about what some might call ‘showing her off.’ It had been a long time since she’d been on a date with a man so comfortable with PDA, especially on a first date. It was refreshing, and it had her swooning big time. Scud wasn’t like any man she’d met before, and that was precisely the type of man she needed. “I guess we will.”

She clung to his arm as they stepped out into the parking lot. It was dark now, the automatic lamps in the lot having flipped on and the streets flooding with people heading out for their Friday night, end-of-the-work-week antics. She used her free hand to brush her hair out of her face, and she could feel his gorgeous ocean eyes on her, studying every microscopic move she made. Even the mundane act of her brushing some hair out of her eyes brought a smile to his face. He was falling hard, fast, and he knew it and had no problems with it.

“I don’t know about you Vee, but I’m not ready for this night to be over. You hungry at all?”

“I ate a little before I came, so I’m not ravenous, but I’m not ready to be done either.”

“There’s a nice bar up the street. What do you say I buy you a drink? I’d love to keep talking.” There was a teeny tiny sparkle in his eye at the declaration of wanting to continue their evening over drinks, and Vec couldn’t help but let her small smile warp into one that stretched from ear-to-ear.

“I’d like that.” She slipped her arm out from his, and she could’ve sworn the sparkle in his eye faded to sadness for a brief moment as she pulled away and reached for her bag, taking out her phone. “I just have to text my best friend first. It’s nothing personal, I promise. Part of girl code is keeping each other informed of our locations on dates.”

Vec: We’re walking to this nearby bar. I think it’s called Whistler’s? He didn’t say, but it’s the only one I can think of up the street.

“Nah, you got someone lookin’ out for you. That’s good,” he commented. Based on the inflection in his voice, he’d clearly taken no offense, but even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered to her. She was simply doing what she needed to keep herself safe.

She slipped her phone back into her bag and adjusted it on her arm. Looking past his shoulder down the street, she nodded in the general direction. “You thinking we walk?”

“I was hopin’ we would.” Grazing his fingers against the back of her hand, he kept his touch light as he trailed them around and slipped them between hers. Vec had never been more thankful for the dark, and for full-coverage foundation, than she was in that moment. As she locked eyes with him, her small smile contorted into a giant grin, her delight turning his smirk into a smile. “It’s dark. Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

Vec belongs to me

Georgie belongs to @dixons-sunshine

QOTU taglist: @ripleyswife @gothic-pumpkin @weirdoneattheparty @holdmytesseract

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

Want to become a head of the council? Hit up either myself or Krys to be added to the taglist :)

Banner, divider, and © below were also made by Krys

[kybercrystals94]

Neon Warfare

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 1 | Main Prompt: Water Gun Fight | Alt. Prompt: "It's not what it looks like."

Rated: G | Words: 3109 | Summary: Wrecker buys two little water guns. What's the worst that could happen?

“Hey, look at this?” 

“How much do you think something like that costs?” 

“They call that art? I’ve blown up things that ended up looking nicer than that!” 

“If we could get one of those, would you want red or blue? I know red is part of our colors, but blue is nice.”

Crosshair tries to ignore Wrecker’s incessant commentary as they cut through a district of novelty shops. Keeping Wrecker on task during slow paced missions is like herding wild tookas: impossible and incredibly annoying. 

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Crosshair finally snaps. “Are you even watching for our contact?” 

“I thought you were watching,” Wrecker says, “I’m just backup.” 

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “So help me…” 

Wrecker gasps, and Crosshair turns to see what has distracted his brother now. Small, neon colored, plastic pistols. “What are these?” Wrecker asks the shopkeep. 

“Water guns,” the man says. 

“What do they do?” Wrecker asks before Crosshair can haul him away. 

The man looks unimpressed with the question. “Shoot water.” 

“They’re so tiny,” Wrecker croons. “You just fill ‘em with water? Simple as that?” 

“Simple as that.” 

“Wrecker, come on,” Crosshair growls. 

“They’re on sale, two for a credit,” the man says. 

“Sold!” Wrecker whips a credit out of nowhere, drops it in the vendor’s waiting hand, and snatches up a green and a pink pistol from the basket. 

It takes every shred of patience for Crosshair to keep his mouth shut until they move away from the cart. “Put your toys away, we’re busy,” he hisses. 

“We’re always busy,” Wrecker says, ignoring him as he fiddles with the tiny orange stopper at the top of the pink pistol. Once he dislodges it, he hands the green pistol to Crosshair. “Hold this.” 

“I’m not holding your toys!” Crosshair cries, taking the pistol anyway. 

Wrecker gets out his canteen and tries to delicately dribble a stream of water into the hole at the top of the gun. Most of the water ends up in a puddle on the ground. 

“I’m not sharing my canteen with you when you’re thirsty later,” Crosshair mutters. 

Wrecker either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care. “There!” he says, triumphantly, poking the stopper back into place. Before Crosshair can react, Wrecker points the gun at Crosshair and pulls the trigger. A spurt of water splatters harmlessly across Crosshair’s visor. 

He’s annoyed nonetheless. “Ugh! Grow up, Wrecker!” 

“Here,” Wrecker says, unperturbed, reaching for the green pistol, “let’s fill yours up.” 

“It’s not mine!” Crosshair says, thrusting it into Wrecker’s hand. 

“Sure it is! I bought it for you.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

Wrecker’s shoulders slump. “Aw, c’mon, Cross. You’re no fun.”

“We’re not here to have fun. We’re here on a mission. Now, put your kriffing toys away.” 

Crosshair starts walking, and hears Wrecker start trundling along behind him. And then he feels it. Something wet on the back of his neck.

“Ha! That was a good shot!”

Crosshair sighs. This is going to be a long patrol. 

*

Surprisingly, Wrecker seems to lose interest in the water guns the moment they come within sight of the Marauder. He shoves them in one of his pockets and goes about his chores without a word about his newfound toys that he’d been harassing Crosshair with nonstop. 

Crosshair isn’t complaining. Maybe the stupid water guns will be forgotten, lost in a crate somewhere…or found by a certain sniper and shot out the airlock while in deep space. 

However, Crosshair’s hopes are dashed when he opens his firepuncher case the next cycle and finds that someone has put a neon green water gun inside. A torn piece of flimsi is folded beside it. Crosshair picks it up and opens it. Got plan. Practice. Secret. - W. 

Shaking his head, Crosshair picks up the tiny pistol. He can tell by the subtle weight that Wrecker has already filled it with water. With a scoff, he aims idly at a bolt in the wall and shoots. The spurt of water misses by at least nine centimeters to the left. Crosshair’s jaw drops. He missed? He adjusts the pistol in his hand. Shoots. Five centimeters too low. 

Crosshair swears under his breath. 

Squirt, squirt, squirt, squirt…

Miss, miss, miss, miss…

He’s about to throw the water gun across the ship when a rumbling voice says behind him. “Harder than it looks, huh?” 

Wrecker’s pink water gun appears in his hand, comically miniscule in his massive fingers. He aims for the exact bolt Crosshair was aiming for. 

Direct hit. 

Crosshair actually chokes on his gasp of shock. He’s coughing so hard that Hunter comes back to check on them, Wrecker slapping Crosshair on the back as if that’s gonna do anything to help.

“Everything alright?” Hunter asks. 

Wrecker grins. “Yeah, he’s just fine, sarge.”

Hunter quirks an eyebrow at Crosshair, and Crosshair can only nod. With one last bewildered look, Hunter retreats back to the cockpit. 

“That’s why you gotta practice,” Wrecker says loftily. “Otherwise, I’ll just be a better shot than you with a water gun.” 

Crosshair glares at his largest brother, seeing the shameless goading for exactly what it is. And yet, he will not be outdone by Wrecker, not even with a stupid little toy water gun. “Oh, you’re on.” 

*

Echo is tracking their flight plan when he hears Wrecker start sniffling behind him. He ignores it. 

“Sure is dusty in here,” Wrecker comments offhandedly. 

“Whatever you say,” Echo mumbles. 

More sniffling. “My nose sure feels funny. It’s like a sneeze is stuck in there.” 

Echo grunts in vague sympathy. 

Then comes the shuddering breath of an attempted sneeze, loud and exaggerated…and prolonged. 

“For force sake, Wrecker, if you’re gonna sneeze, sneeze!” 

“ACHOO!” 

Wet droplets shower the back of Echo’s neck. His reaction is immediate. “Wrecker! Did you just sneeze on me?” Echo squawks, standing and whirling on the giant. 

Wrecker doesn’t look the least bit ashamed. In fact, he looks alarmed and frantic as he tries to shove something bright neon pink in his pocket. Echo is faster when he’s annoyed or angry, and it pays off now. He snatches the mystery item out of Wrecker’s hand. A tiny, cheap water pistol. 

“You shot me with this and made me think you sneezed on me?” Echo demanded. “That’s disgusting!” 

“It’s called a prank,” Wrecker says, sounding offended by Echo’s evident lack of humor. 

Echo rolls his eyes. “A childish prank.” 

“It’s called fun,” Wrecker says, holding out his hand. “Now give it back. I still need to shoot Hunter and Tech with it.”

“Do you honestly think that’s going to end well?” Echo asks, deadpan. 

Wrecker smiles. “Not sure, but I’m willing to find out.”

Echo hesitates, weighing his options. If he returns the kriffing toy and Wrecker pranks Hunter and Tech with it, Echo risks being called complicit in the crime. 

If he keeps the toy…

“C’mon, Echo,” Wrecker whines, making a grabbing motion with his outstretched hand. “It’s water. It’s not like it’s gonna hurt them.”

The manchild does have a point. 

Echo sighs. “Fine. But so help me, you shoot me again with this thing, I’ll send it out the airlock.” 

Wrecker grins almost apologetically and snatches the toy up the moment it’s placed in his hand. “Ah, it was a good prank. You can’t actually be mad.” 

He’s not, but Echo narrows his gaze anyway. “You wanna bet credits on that?” 

“Fine! I won’t shoot you with water again,” Wrecker grumbles, folding his arms, hiding the water gun from view. Echo shakes his head and turns back to finish his calculations. He chooses not to react when Wrecker mutters, “Killjoy.”

*

Hunter is on the very cusp of sleep on one of the bunks when something hits the side of his face. Something cool and wet. He jerks awake with a gasp, hand flying up to touch where the attack occurred. His glove comes away damp. Turning, he sees Crosshair, polishing his rifle. 

“What was that?” Hunter demands. 

Crosshair looks up. “What?” 

“Someone splashed me with water,” Hunter says. 

“Someone splashed you with water,” Crosshair echoes. He rolls his eyes. “Sure they did.” 

Hunter glares at him. “You did it.” 

“How?” Crosshair asks. 

“Easy. You threw water at me.” 

“Where did I get this water?”

“Your canteen.” 

“Does it look like I have a canteen on me?” Crosshair asks, glancing around himself pointedly. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.” 

“My glove is literally damp!” 

“Maybe it’s sweat. Between that mop you call hair and that bandana, you must be roasting alive.” 

“I’m not sweating!” 

Crosshair shrugs, returning to his task. “Whatever you say.” 

Hunter watches him a few more moments before he closes his eyes, keeping his head turned toward his brother, and tries to resume his nap. 

Another water strike, square in the middle of his forehead. Hunter’s eyes fly open, and Crosshair is still there, not looking at him, polishing his rifle with the same leisurely ease as before. 

“You did it again!” Hunter cries, sitting up. 

Crosshair meets his gaze. “What are you on about? I didn’t do anything!” 

“Yes you did! You’re the only one in here! There’s no other explanation!” 

“How the kriff did I do it then? Explain it to me!” 

Hunter grits his teeth. He can’t explain it. But he knows it’s true. “You’re the one doing it, so you tell me!” 

“I’m not doing anything! I’m cleaning my rifle. Maker!” 

Hunter stands up. “You know you’re the worst sometimes?” 

“So I’ve been told,” Crosshair muses, going back to his task.

Hunter starts to storm to the cockpit when something hits the back of his head. He whirls around and Crosshair is still at work, an almost imperceptible smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. Hunter growls a curse under his breath before making his retreat. 

*

“What are you doing?” 

Wrecker and Crosshair startle and look up to find Tech standing over them. The casings of two water guns are on the floor between them, taken apart, amongst a plethora of spare parts from Tech’s stash for his projects. A stash he has very deliberately told his brothers not to touch without express permission. 

And neither of the clones in front of him had any such consent.  

“It’s not what you think,” Wrecker says. He has the decency to sound guilty.

Tech frowns. “What I think is that you are modifying toy pistols using my personal collection of parts.” 

Crosshair shrugs. “Then it’s exactly what you think.” 

“Put the parts back immediately! They are meant for serious projects, not hobbies.”

“Ah, c’mon, Tech,” Wrecker complains, “this isn’t just a hobby. It’s for science.” 

“How so?” Tech asks, unimpressed. 

Crosshair holds up a data pad with crudely designed schematics. “We’re going to increase the weapons’ accuracy by approximately one hundred and five percent.” 

Tech takes the data pad and examines the modifications. “No you are not.” 

“Why?”

“Because I am not giving permission to use my parts for these modifications. Give them back.” 

“Maker, Tech, don’t be stingy,” Crosshair protests.

“It is not being stingy to say that these parts are for specific purposes. Not a single one of those purposes include water guns. Put them away.” 

“Or what? You’ll tell Hunter on us?” Crosshair snarks. 

Tech glares. “You are being immature.” 

“Fine!” Crosshair says, “We’ll put your precious parts away. We don’t need them.” 

Wrecker frowns. “Yeah, we do.” 

“No, we don’t,” Crosshair says. He scoops up the spare parts and dumps them back in their box. He hands the box over to Tech, now a jumbled mess to be sorted. 

“You are behaving like a juvenile,” Tech says irritably. 

Crosshair smiles, but there is no friendliness in the gesture. “Oh, you haven’t seen juvenile yet.” 

“Is that a threat?” Tech asks. 

“Of course not,” Crosshair says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Just something to think about.” 

*

Tech calls a meeting between himself, Echo, and Hunter, closing the cockpit door while Crosshair and Wrecker are distracted with cataloging inventory. At least, that is what they said they were doing when they disappeared into the upper hold. 

“Something has to be done about Wrecker and Crosshair,” Tech says. 

“What do you mean?” Hunter asks. 

“Are you talking about their stupid little water pistols?” Echo asks, rolling his eyes. 

Hunter’s jaw drops. “That’s how Crosshair got me!” 

“And Wrecker got me,” Echo says. 

“I caught them trying to modify them to have better accuracy,” Tech says. “I stopped their attempt, but it is only a matter of time before they find alternate means.” 

“I told Wrecker if he shoots me with water again, I’ll send his water gun out the airlock,” Echo says with a shrug. “I say we follow through.” 

Hunter shakes his head. “No. We should fight fire with fire.” 

“Water with water, as it were,” Tech chuckles. 

“Please no,” Echo entreats. “Let’s end this before it gets out of hand.” 

“I’ve been doing some research,” Tech says, bringing out his data pad. “I believe I have found the perfect solution.” 

****

“We have four standard hours of shore leave,” Hunter says, “That means you’re all back to the ship in three and a half. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” Crosshair snarks with a lazy salute. He and Wrecker saunter off, leaving Hunter, Echo and Tech without a backwards glance. 

Once they are out of earshot, Hunter turns to Tech. “You got those coordinates?” 

“Affirmative,” Tech says, pulling up the directions on his data pad. 

“Are we really going to spend hard earned credits on water guns?” Echo asks.

Tech frowns. “These are not simply water guns, Echo. They are classified as super soakers.” 

“Cross and Wrecker won’t know what hit them,” Hunter murmurs almost gleefully. 

“Do you even hear yourselves right now?” Echo cries. 

Hunter ignores him. “We need to head out. We have to be back here and in position before the targets return.” 

Echo rolls his eyes, but follows Tech and Hunter anyway. 

*

They turn more than a few heads when they walk into the toy store; however, Crosshair ignores the incredulous stares of the other patrons. He walks straight to the counter, Wrecker at his shoulder. “We had an order for pickup,” he says.

“Sure, what’s the name?” the clerk asks. 

“Crosshair.” 

The clerk disappears into the back room and returns with two packages. “Two special order water guns?” 

The burning sensation of embarrassment creeps up the back of Crosshair’s neck. “Yes,” he says. 

“Aw, yeah! I can’t wait to try ‘em out,” Wrecker crows. 

“Can you be quieter,” Crosshair hisses at him. 

The clerk rings up the order and accepts the payment before relinquishing the packages to the soldiers, fully armored sans helmets. Wrecker takes them both eagerly, tucking them under one arm. They leave the shop and nearly collide with three more armored figures about to walk in. 

“What are you doing here?” Hunter demands. 

“Nothing!” Wrecker cries, sounding panicked, shoving the packages behind his back. 

“We could ask you the same thing,” Crosshair counters. 

Hunter crosses his arms. “We were following you.”

“Why?” 

“We’re suspicious.” 

“Of what?” 

“Of what you’d be getting from a toy store.” 

“How did you know we were coming to a toy store?” 

Hunter doesn’t have a comeback for that, and changes the subject. “What did you get?” 

“Nothing,” Wrecker reiterates guiltily, “It’s a surprise.” 

Tech adjusts his goggles. “Which is it? Nothing or a surprise?” 

“How about,” Crosshair says, stepping in front of Wrecker, “none of your business.”

“This is ridiculous,” Echo grumbles.

Crosshair reaches back and grabs Wrecker’s arm. “C’mon. We’re leaving.” Dragging Wrecker behind him, he shoves through the suspicious trio. 

“See you lot back at the ship,” Hunter calls after them. 

“Not if we see you first!” Wrecker hollers back. 

“Shut up!” Crosshair growls. “This is bad enough as it is.” 

*

They watch until the suspicious duo disappear into the crowd. 

“Those packages were definitely within the dimensions of super soakers,” Tech says. 

Hunter nods. “We should have known they’d do something like this.”

“We’re doing something like this!” Echo exclaims. “I never asked to be part of this. I’m never going to be dry again!” 

“Stop whining, Echo,” Hunter says, opening the door of the shop. “It’s three versus two. We’ve got the advantage. They might have started this, but we’re going to end it.” 

*

When they return the Marauder, the ramp is down, but it is quiet. Too quiet. Hunter holds up a fist, and Echo and Tech immediately stop short. Hunter’s eyes rove over the ship’s exterior. 

“Are we within range?” he asks Tech, a whisper over his shoulder. 

“If Crosshair is positioned on top of the ship, affirmative. He will have gravity on his side.” 

Echo groans. “Need I remind you all that we are in public?”

“We split up,” Hunter says, voice low, gripping his colorful weapon and holding it in ready position. “Circle the ship.” 

Echo sighs and takes the left side while Tech goes right. Hunter bravely takes center. He barely makes it four steps forward before he is hit in the face with a stream of water. 

And that’s when all hell breaks loose. 

*

No one says anything until the Marauder is settled in a hyperspace lane. The only sound is the hum of the ship and the faint sound of water dripping off five drenched commandos. 

Until… 

“They had no right to confiscate our weapons!” Wrecker grouses. 

Echo huffs. “It was that or the city putting in an official complaint with the GAR.” 

“I find it a little extreme to be prohibited from an entire planet. No one was injured,” Tech says. 

“Crosshair shot a child point blank with a super soaker and made them cry,” Echo points out. 

Crosshair chuckles darkly. “In my defense, I thought it was Hunter. They were similar heights.” 

Hunter scoffs. “You are such a liar.”

“Wait, who was it that then shot an officer sent to investigate the disturbance?” Crosshair asks, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, yes. It was Hunter. That’s what got us in real trouble.”

“Now wait a minute,” Hunter starts indignantly. 

Echo stands up. “I just want to go on the record and say I didn’t want to be involved in any of this!”

“This is true,” Tech agrees, “Although you are the one who soaked the second officer.”

“That was an accident.”

“That’s not how the officer saw it.” 

As the bickering escalates, Crosshair catches Wrecker’s eye and holds out his hand, mostly fisted, but open enough that the demolitions expert sees a glimpse of pink and green. He grins, looking back at Crosshair. Crosshair puts a finger to his lips. Wrecker nods. 

The war is far from over. 

END

Finally got my first prompt fill done for my own prompt event 😂 It's been an absolute joy and delight to see all the fills so far! I dedicate this story to @just-here-with-my-thoughts' kiddo 😉 A lot of work went into getting this prompt in the top 13 🤣

12 more weeks of Summer of Bad Batch!! Can't wait!!

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver

[alexihollis]

Mark of an Angel

*religion snuck in here*

"You should get a hickey." Ajax's words caught everyone's attention and her shit-eating grin did not raise Cowgirl's hopes. "Y'know, so you don't have to keep getting it reapplied."

"Eat a dick, Ajax," Cowgirl groaned, throwing one of the couch cushions at Ajax's face, as Ajax dissolved into full-body laughter, not even able to keep herself upright at her own stupid joke. Rembrandt rolled her eyes, pushing at her larger girlfriend.

"That's so stupid," Swan muttered as she flipped the page of the book. "This is a stupid conversation."

"It is not! I need help!" Cowgirl insisted.

Cochise snorted. "Psychological help, maybe. Why the fuck do you want a tattoo, anyways? Make yourself more identifiable? That hat isn't cutting it?"

"Cleon has a tattoo!" Cowgirl gestured vaguely at their illustrious leader.

Who simply raised her eyebrows at Cowgirl, "Care to explain why you know that?"

"Nope," Cowgirl smiled.

"When the hell did you get a tattoo?" So that got Swan to look up from her damn book, the nerd.

"Where the hell is your tattoo?" Ajax looked morbidly intrigued.

Cleon raised her beer bottle to her lips and said, "Somewhere you will never see," before taking a long drink.

"Nope, nope, never mind," aaaaannd Swan was back to reading. Great.

"Guysssss," Cowgirl whined, draping herself over the arm of the couch. "Seriously. I need tattoo ideas."

"If you don't have an idea for a tattoo, why get one?" Cochise asked, ever the suffering voice of reason. Which was complete bullshit, because she was the one Cowgirl could always convince to go blackout with her in a pinch.

"Get a horse," Rembrandt suggested. "Goes with the theme."

"...maybe," it wasn't the worst idea. It certainly wasn't a hickey and at least Rembrandt was taking it seriously.

"Or, like, spurs," Cochise finally took the bait with a shrug. "That'd be bad ass."

"Except for the Harlem Spurs," Swan said.

"Damn, yeah, don't get spurs," Cochise winced. "Those guys are assholes."

"They're wimps," Ajax laughed. "Swan and I chased them into their own turf for fun."

"Ajax!" Swan hissed.

"You and Swan did what?" Cleon asked.

"We weren't in colors," Ajax tried.

"Swan." Ooh, serious Cleon.

"It was months ago, they didn't even recognize us," Swan tried.

"Months ago?!"

"If you didn't hear about it yet, did it even really matter?" Swan tried.

That at least got Cleon to take pause. Then, "Recruit duty, both of you, two weeks."

"Motherfuck-" Ajax went to swear.

"Could be a month," Cleon said.

"Thank you, oh benevolent dictator," Ajax half-bowed to Cleon. "How wise is your leadership."

Cleon just rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath about herding cats. Again, not Cowgirl's desired topic of conversation.

"You are not being helpful," Cowgirl reiterated. She turned to someone who hadn't spoken yet, poking her thigh with her big toe. "Hey. What would you get if you could get a tattoo?"

Curled up on the other arm of the couch, chewing at the end of her pencil and glaring down at her pre-calc, Fox barely gave Cowgirl a second glance. "Don't want one."

"Thank God," Cowgirl barely heard Swan mutter to herself.

"If you could have one, though," Cowgirl poked Fox's thigh again. "What would you get?"

"I don't fucking- A fox, I guess?" Fox shrugged.

Cowgirl gave Fox a deadpan look, "Clever."

"If you get a tattoo just because one of us gives you an idea, you're going to hate it in a month and then complain at us about it for the rest of ever," Fox said. Which may have been the longest sentence Cowgirl ever heard the girl say.

"They're fun! They're decorative! I want one!" Cowgirl exclaimed. "It is ludicrous that in my street gang I am getting this much push back about getting a tattoo! What are we? A youth group?"

"In my experience, youth groups have way less homosexuality and drinking," was Swan's oh-so-helpful added commentary.

"I do not need comments from the cult girl about my brilliant wit!"

"I'm sorry, cult girl?" Fox sounded almost insultingly more interested in the conversation now.

"It was not a cult," Swan rushed to correct.

"No, it was simply a very dedicated small group of Christian worshippers who follow the very detailed, direct instructions of a dedicated pastor," Cleon said.

"Exactly," Swan nodded.

"Who strictly homeschooled their children and refused outside influences," Cleon continued, now looking at Fox. "And practiced for the rapture. Twice a month. And thought that God spoke to said pastor to create arranged marriages. But, you know, not a cult."

"I hate you," Swan deadpanned. But Cowgirl remembered the time when Swan full on said that she was very certain she would go to Hell when she died, but maybe she deserved it and that "deserving" came from the sin of finding women pretty. Not even acting on it, simply the thought crime of having functioning eyes. So, hey, Swan being able to take a half-joke about it? Progress!

"My tattoo!" Cowgirl wailed, completely not-dramatically.

Except no one cared about Cowgirl's poor tattoo and the conversation moved on.

-------

"Are you sure about this?" Cowgirl asked as they stood in front of the tattoo parlor.

Swan nodded, grim determination. "Yeah. I am."

"This is- Look, I know we joke about the cult shit, but this is a lot," Cowgirl said. "No one else is doing this. They don't even know."

Strategic, because Cowgirl needed Swan to have an out. She thought Swan was going to bail before she even got to Cleon's apartment. Then, she thought by the time they reached the subway station. Then, she thought, for sure, by the time they got to the street. The block. The door.

But here they were. At the door of Cowgirl's friend's tattoo parlor. And Swan didn't look like she was turning around.

"Stop that," Swan said.

"Stop what?"

"I'm fine," Swan shrugged. "I've been fine. It's been years. My relationship with God is between me and Him. You guys don't need to worry about that anymore. He gave me my body to do as I please, He gave me free will, and I trust that He is better than what those around me claim Him to be."

...damn.

"Huh," Cowgirl shifted her weight to her other foot, looking up at the awning of the shop. "Kinda thought you'd go more...anti-religion, Satanist."

Again, Swan shrugged. "It is what it is." Then, "Why don't you want to go in?"

Cowgirl sighed, shaky. "Who says I don't want to go in?"

"Because, as Cochise would say, you're projecting your nerves onto me?"

Oh. Is that what she was doing?

"This is a good idea, right?" Cowgirl asked, looking at Swan. "She would- She wouldn't think this is stupid, right?"

Swan's eyes softened. They had been doing that lately, since Mercy had been around. "No. No, she would think it was sweet."

Cowgirl nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too."

"But she also wouldn't want you to hate it," Swan continued. "So if you aren't sure..."

"No. I'm sure."

And they walked in.

And they walked out with twin tattoos. Small little foxes, twisting around their right ankles. Full of life and mischief, the way their Fox had been, in her own quiet way.

[vindelllas]

the astrological implications of "lookalikes" and nakshatra characteristics - the dualistic nature of rahu and shani🪞

💎 in the seemingly constant conquest for people to find their dominant grahas within their birth chart, it is often helpful for people to compare their morphological features to that of celebrities who share their primary placements. many celebrities often dawn similar faces to their red carpet counterparts which is no coincidence. i have included a few of the ever-increasing physical similarities witnessed among celebrities below and commentaries on what contributes to their facial appearances. this should serve as subtle introduction to a morphology- and fashion-based series i hope to develop within the next year or so. as an additional thank you to the now 5,000 of you, i am also offering 20% off on my cosmetic cosmological readings and vedic reading bundle for the next week. thank you for all of your amazing support and i am beyond excited to witness the growth in people learning about vedic astrology and religion as a whole.

above lies a personal interpretation of mine on the grahas and how they relate to stylistic and morphological essence that i find will be helpful for understanding this post and more posts to come:

🪞 zoë saldana (left) and thandiwe newton (right)

saldana is mrigashira surya (tightly conjunct buddha), pushya lagna (tightly conjunct shukra), and anuradha chandra native. whereas, newton has a swati surya and swati (or vishakha) chandra. the only direct similarity between both women is both were born on monday (the day of the moon) and within their chandra mahadasha which can subtly increase their lunar inclinations.

while both celebrities do not have specific astrological rashis in common, there is a subtle nuance that lies within their astrological compatibility. saldana is extremely dominant in saturnian energies and newton is likely extremely dominant in rahuvian energies. shani and rahu natives are often mistaken for one another due to their similar properties. think of the two grahas as one combined coin of governance over the instances in which define material success in one's life (such as sorrow, pain, grit, and finances). shani acts as the grounded rahu, who is slowed and wise in his pursuit towards fulfillment. whereas, the out-of-body node rahu is exploitative, hasty, and rapid in movement. both govern over the trials and tribulations we may experience in our physicality. thus, both are intricately intertwined and so are their natives.

rahuvian natives share similar features of thinned and highly-arched eyebrows (characteristic of thinner eyebrows being considered more yin in nature), less prominent noses and chins, fuller cheeks, smaller facial frames, expertly defined cupid's bow, and large eyes. whereas, shani natives share similar (if not exact) features to that of rahu but with slightly less exaggerative features erring on the side of angelic essence (yin and ethereal, otherworldly, and mystical) compared to the ingenue essence likes of rahu (decorative, cute yin)

🪞 jaime pressly (left) and margot robbie (right)

another case study of rahuvian-saturnian beauty is pressly (pushya surya loosely conjunct shani and shravana chandra) and robbie (ardra surya tightly conjunct brihaspati, punarvasu lagna tightly conjunct buddha, and swati chandra), both of which share a shani atmakaraka (the graha/karaka most indicative of oneself). both celebrities share the similar characteristics of the two grahas which highly emphasize yin-nature. the subtle essences of both graha types are analyzed below. both of which favor yin and small facial features and clothing details (such as dainty jewelry pieces, note how many of the graha natives sport blue jewelry indicative of shani's rulership) and lighter and softer features (such as bleached/highlighted hair and naturalistic, nude coloring in makeup):

rahu aesthetics: yin, but decorative small-scale yin. features flowing, rounded shapes in both anatomy and clothing-styles. small, compact figure in which natives prefer to adorn themselves with small decorations and details, such as delicate trimmings.

shani aesthetics: most yin essence of the grahas (though it flows back into yang). it is a type of yin that is ethereal in nature. natives' body type has the least concrete shape of all the essences. its silhouettes are long and flowing with draping and webbing. fine textures, as well as transparent and iridescent colours, contribute to their ethereal appearance.

🪞 sarah hyland (left) and mila kunis (right)

hyland has a swati lagna, anuradha surya tightly conjunct shukra, and dhanishta chandra loosely conjunct rahu. kunis has an ashlesha surya, anuradha lagna loosely conjunct ketu and brihaspati, and swati chandra loosely conjunct shani. despite both women being influenced by different planetary aspects (including the oppositionary ketu for kunis), you can notice yet again their saturnian (specifically anuradha) and rahuvian (specifically swati) aspects dominating both women almost entirely.

anuradha: as i spoke about in a previous post on this nakshatra, anuradha natives possess specific, bunny-like features indicative of the nakshatra's rabbit yoni. these natives often possess big, round, and bright eyes; rounded foreheads; full yet smaller horizontal surface area lips; and prominent central incisors.

swati: swati's dominance over mahamaya results in natives' face types having the same length and width dimensions. it is harmonious as a whole without any dominative unique features. they are genetically predisposed to a beautifully attractive round face with harmonic and regular proportions specifically surrounding the contour region of their face. due to the mahamaya emphasis, natives of swati have a distinct affinity for facial feminizing techniques (such as hairline modifications, jaw reduction, rhinoplasty (nose reduction), and facial lifts). note that these improvements might appear the best on these natives due to their rahuvian abundance, but natives must learn to balance this affinity for bodily modification (specifically with their nose or cheekbones) with equal bouts of self care and physical reflection.

🪞 nina dobrev (left) and victoria justice (right)

nina dobrev has an jyeshta lagna, purva ashadha surya loosely conjunct shani, and shravana chandra tightly conjunct buddha. victoria justice has a dhanishta surya, shravana chandra loosely conjunct shani, and swati lagna. both celebrities share similar venusian and saturnian undertones, yet it is likely the shravana emphasis that further adds identical qualities to both women. shravana beauty, contrarily to pushya, it is chandra-based beauty (sensual, deep yin) with saturnian undertones (ethereal yin).

chandra (a graha with emphasis on femininity)-based beauty is mature and sensual when in conjunction with shani (a graha with emphasis on traditionalized values). overall resulting in a romantic-essence beauty type: like the circular shape of a voluptuous, full moon, the romantic shravana silhouette is curvy and round, mirroring that of an hourglass. soft, flowing garments create movement in the silhouette, whereas romantic colors (that of a red and pink palette) look best on these women.

consequently, individuals with the shravana style essence tend to create an overall visual impression of sensuality and glamor. although their essence is yin, such as the ingenue, rahuvian essence, it is a mature sensuality as opposed to the cute, innocent prettiness of rahuvian natives. adjectives such as sexy, 'womanly', and glamorous can be used to describe these natives. abstractly, one can associate the shravana style/anatomical essence with the themes of luxury and indulgence. this aura specifically conjures up images of expensive jewellery, candlelit dinners, and red roses similar to the blooming nature of this nakshatra's artha purushartha and brahma trimurthi.

🪞lili reinhart (left) and brittany murphy (right)

reinhart has an uttara phalguni surya and chandra (loosely conjunct rahu) and swati lagna. whereas, murphy has an ashlesha lagna and swati surya and chandra (loosely conjunct shukra). both women share a surya atmakaraka and brihaspati amatyakaraka. yet again we see a physical example of rahu being indicative of identical similarity amongst others. this is likely due to rahu and shani (if aspecting one's surya or chandra) in one's natal chart being indicative of twins. specifically these aspects include the seventh house and bahuputra yoga. the two grahas' indication of twins can manifest one finding other non-related individuals who share an eerily similar appearance or siblings who are specifically dominant in shani and/or rahu energies looking identical despite not being identical twins. both individuals serving as seperate sides of the same cosmological coin.

also note the stylistic differences between reinhart and murphy above. murphy looks more natural in the shani-based vata colors of silvers and blues. whereas, reinhart looks absolutely gorgeous yet slightly "off" in the neon-red coloring of her dress (due to the countering pitta dosha nature of red). while reinhart may be influenced by the pitta surya via her surya and chandra, it is clear she favors vata coloring naturally. do note that vata dosha colors such as brown and grey should be avoided for those experiencing common vata-associated issues with matters such as anxiety and depression. this is why it is recommended for these natives to incorporate soft, pastel, and pale iterations of the respective colors, such as red or orange. too bright or cold colors can bring natives of this dosha more out of balance. however, white is said to have a good effect on people with a predominant vata dosha constitution. additionally, the accumulated surplus of vata dosha is well influenced by the color yellow (likely contributing to rahu and shani's favoring of blonde hair and highlights).

🪞keira knightley (left) and natalie portman (right)

knightley has an uttara bhadrapada surya (loosely conjunct buddha and shukra) and rohini chandra. portman has a rohini surya, swati lagna, and purva phalguni chandra. both were born on tuesday (the day of kuja). both women incorporate lunar romanticism but differ with their shani and rahu influences ever so slightly.

shani subtlety: a combination of of ying features and mysticism, also known as the ethereal and most yin essence. consequently, individuals with the subtlety of shani tend to create an overall visual impression of softness and otherworldliness or mysticism. although they are more feminine like the rahu and lunar essences, this is an 'old soul' kind of femininity as opposed to sensual or cute, pretty femininity. adjectives such as mysterious, ethereal, mystical, or 'old soul' can be used to describe people under this graha's influence. abstractly, one can associate the graha with the themes of mysticism and the cosmos, often conjuring up images of mythical creatures, fairies and mermaids, and the cosmos and galaxies within others.

rahu subtlety: a combination of femininity with childlike innocence and delicacy, also known as the decorative, small-scale yin subtlety. consequently, individuals with rahu subtlety tend to create an overall visual impression of youthful femininity and innocence. although this subtlety is feminine like the lunar essence, it is a childlike, innocent cuteness as opposed to the mature, sensual femininity of the lunar individual. adjectives like gentle, cute, and pretty could be used to describe natives. abstractly, one can associate rahu subtlety with the themes of innocence and youthful idealism, conjuring up images of delicate flowers.

note both natives have a rectangular-shaped face with square foreheads and jawlines. they have long, ovular faces but with angular edges. they both possess immense symmetry and harmony as seen in lunar women but their vata influences dominate this abundance with facial contouring and structural emphasis. their overall appearance is an example of vata extremism with lunar subtleties. compared to more vata-lunar natives like dobrev and justice, one can really see their morphological differences. additionally, these aforementioned planetary subtleties are also witnessed with both of the actresses careers. for example, knightley stars in more whimsical or vintage films such as "pride and prejudice", "the duchess", and "pirates of the caribbean". whereas, portman stars in more romantic, subtle thrillers that embody the purity complex seen within rahu, such as "black swan", "v for vendetta", and "leon".

🪞 zooey deschanel (left): uttara ashadha surya, chandra, and lagna (tightly conjunct buddha) born on thursday, day of brihaspati, with chandra amatyakaraka

🪞katy perry (right): swati surya and lagna (tightly conjunct buddha) and vishakha chandra (tightly conjunct shani) born on thursday, day of brihaspati, with chandra amatyakaraka

🪐 are you saturn and/or rahu dominant? have you encountered similar instances of being compared to other people or celebrities based on your physical appearance? i think it is interesting that even individuals influenced by these grahas are compared to other people more so than those who are not influenced by shani or rahu. it is likely people would suspect buddha to be involved in this phenomena. however, buddha is not implicative of identical nature, it is implicative of the flattery that lies within mimicry via emulation. this is why mercurial celebrities often undergo bodily alterations to resemble rahuvian/saturnian celebrities (such as bella hadid's cosmetic transformation into resembling carla bruni or the character elvira's direct copying of the character vampira).

🪞 jessica chastain (left) and bryce dallas howard (right)

additional examples of astrological lookalikes:

jessica chastain (anuradha lagna, rohini chandra loosely conjunct brihaspati, and uttara bhadrapada surya loosely conjunct buddha) and bryce dallas howard (revati lagna, shatabhisha surya loosely conjunct kuja and shukra, and uttara ashadha chandra). both share chandra atmakarakas.

jordin sparks (swati chandra, mula surya loosely conjunct shani, and purva ashadha lagna) and america ferrera (ashwini surya tightly conjunct buddha, anuradha chandra tightly conjunct kuja, and purva ashadha lagna tightly conjunct brihaspati)

kiernan shipka (vishakha surya and anuradha chandra) and emma watson (ashwini surya, uttara phalguni lagna, and mula chandra)

* all of these placements were found using astrotheme/.com and/or astro-charts/.com. it is important to note that some chandra (moon) placements may be off by up to 6 degrees and lagnas (ascendants/rising signs) as well, due to the fact that many websites do not have 100% accurate birth times for the given celebrities.

xoxo, angel 💋 (will be uploading part two of my buddha self care exploration soon lovelies)

[ramiecutesy22]

I illustrated 100 ASoIaF Characters

" A Song of Ice and Fire" is a series that has become rather (in)famous for its depictions of violence, and abundance of s3x scenes .and while criticism can definitely be made for these, it's important that we dont end up overlooking the important life lessons, nor end up with wrong takeaways from the story.

you see, at its very heart , i believe ASOIAF is a story of the human experience, as well as a commentary about the twisted ways of this world ( set within a fantasy backdrop). being caught in the middle of loyalties, ambition, Reputation, vengeance, culture, faith, and familial acceptance . its themes like this along with complex and relatable characters that youll pity and root for in one scene, only for you to be appalled by and flinch at in the next scene, is what i find so appealing in this series.

Spectacle, Political Intrigue and Character Drama (all present in the story too btw) aside , its a story that really makes you think ,reflect , and learn upon. and i love it for that!

so today , i just wanna show my appreciation to arguably the best aspect of this series: The Characters . for over a year now, i have made fanart for 100 characters from the series. some are major pov characters. some iterally appear for only 1 chapter. but all help bring so much depth and color to this story!

special thanks to:

@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly . your blog has been such a HUGE in help giving me inspiration and references for design and clothing . i also appreciate you reblogging art from fellow asoiaf artist to help give them a boost

@amuelia , i really love your design for Areo, and it was actually the basis for art for him! its only fitting that i give you credit

@whoknowsnugget . i was having a haaaard time coming up a pose for Asha when i first designed her, it wasnt until i saw your own fanart for her ( the one with her arms crossed while holding axes) that i finally found a fitting pose for her. because it was such a huge help, i figured i should give you credit as well!

@buildoblivionthenwewilltalk for being with the journey since last year!

and @squidprinceofwinterfell too, who is my other fellow asoiaf pal from tumblr!

..............................................................................................................................

i really hope yall like this one! i know this may really come off as unexpected, but ive actually liked asoiaf since 2018! ( with a massive revival of interest starting late 2022). as for THAT show, i have yet to watch an actual full episode yet hehe.

as for my account, let this be considered my proper comeback after months of inactivity. this project of mine played a large chunk for my absence, because i frequently get artblock coming up with a new post for every new character i make.

#asongoficeandfire #asoiafart

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Hi! I have been obsessed with your Jason fics for a couple of days. They are just so sweet and incredible. I simply love them and I think that thanks to you I have a new comfort character 😊

I kind of had a little 🤏 anxiety attack in a situation similar to the one I am going to request yesterday. But, somehow imagining Jason recomforting me and thinking about your stories helped me to ease my mind for a while. So thank you so much 🫶🏼

If you have time and like the idea, could you make a fic in which Jason and fem!reader at a Gala in the Wayne Manor and the reader kinds of stress out because people keep asking her questions and looking at her (maybe because that it's their first event as an official couple 🤔) and Jason helps her and assures her that everything will be fine

Hope you have a good day!

Aww I’m sorry to hear that. I get those a lot with my job. Sorry it’s so short, but I hope this helps!

—

“I’ll say it as much as I have to,” Jason’s voice rumbles comfort in your ear, his hand settling snug along your back.

“You look stunning, babe. Don’t worry.”

His words became a temporary balm to your rising concerns, causing a nearly endless bubbling in your tummy.

You weren’t like this when you arrived, fiddling with the skirt of your dress in the back of the limousine. It began when you caught various flashes of photographers along the manor gates, attempting to catch evidence of tonight’s Gala attendees.

Of course, Jason’s commentary from how you’ve done your makeup, to this gorgeous… gorgeous silk dress you picked out for the event, was ever such an ego boost.

A rich, merlot color, complimenting the collar of his button up under his tux jacket. All of Gotham knew just how extravagant Bruce Wayne’s galas were, ranging from charity events to holiday celebrations.

Part of you was excited to attend, despite it being out of your comfort zone. Lots of important people, plenty of snobs looking to get on Wayne’s good side. You imagined that one scene from The Devil Wears Prada; the main character himself strolling along with an aura of charming confidence as he greeted his guests, while his sons lounge around the stairs in absolute boredom, adorned in their secretly signature colors.

Jason usually avoided these events, but just for tonight, he wouldn’t mind attending as long as had his lovely girl by his side.

The dress made you look like complete eye candy. He wasn’t afraid to say that. His girl deserved to look her best, as long as people knew who you arrived and were leaving with at the end of the night.

“What if they ask a bunch of personal stuff?”

“Tell ‘em a bunch of personal lies,” Jason shrugs. “S’what I do all the time.”

Lying seems the most reasonable. Rich, important people do it all the time. What’re they gonna do, fact check you on the spot?

“Ah ah,” he holds up a finger the second he sees your lips open, shaking his head after another sip of champagne. “Look, if they were that desperate to look for truth here, then what’s the point of secret identities?”

After nearly an hour of gentle symphonies accompanying a handful of introductions at a time, your polite smile grew a little more strained. Shaking hands of many faces you didn’t care about, politely nodding your head towards patrons you accidentally made eye contact with and so on, had you clutching Jason’s forearm just a little tighter.

He remained by your side, offering you some soda water or champagne to settle your nerves after finding you both a semi-quiet retreat in a slightly vacant corner.

You weren’t sure why your mind began focusing on the outer talk of guests around you, but you begin to hate yourself for it.

Questions varying from who you were, hushed mutters of if you were simply bribed by lavish gifts to attend. Was another son of Bruce Wayne following in his playboy footsteps, going from girl to girl?

Such comments even went as far as to compliment your hair and makeup. You even heard a woman say this shade of red didn’t suit your skin tone. What does that even mean??

Soon enough, the music grew as loud as the chatter, making your chest swell and burn with irritation for the mental overstimulation.

Jason takes a fresh drink from a tray before leading you out from the stuffy crowds, striving into the courtyard patio. A warm, natural floral breeze helps wipe your senses clean after breathing in a cloying concoction of expensive fragrances all in one room.

A few well dressed patrons were scattered about, smoking cigarettes neatly tucked in slick metal cases. Jason didn’t stop there, leading you down a short set of curved stairs leading into the gardens.

“Breathe, babe. I gotcha.” He holds your hand at first before reaching for his jacket buttons. “All this liquor didn’t get to your head, did it?”

His teasing nearly fell on deaf ears as he draped his coat over your bare shoulders, making his smile slowly fade from your silence.

“You sure you don’t just wanna dip? We can stop at a diner and tell the waiters Batman crashed our expensive, high school prom.”

“Bruce won’t get mad?” You question after a short smile, watching Jason’s lips purse with a firm head shake.

“I mean, we showed up,” Jason clarifies while balancing his empty glass along a nearby stone bench. “No one’s really telling us to stay here.”

A faint air of defeat floods your shoulders, even when your favorite person offered the solution to your anxieties. You thought you’d be more confident, holding the aura of poise and elegance so many women held at these events.

Overall, it was too much. The music, the people, the cologne.

Somehow, a late night diner sounded a whole lot better the more you thought about it. Bustling bells ringing for hot plates, palate cleansing coffee flooding your nose, greasy bacon, and orange juice lacking any expensive champagne.

“Keep that pretty head high, princess.” Jason gently gives the bottom of your chin a gentle nudge with his thumb, gifting you a handsome smile.

“You showed up, that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you.”

[lady-raziel]

Dear god I hope I'm remembering right and you play Fallout 4

Any mod recommendations?

My friend I not only play Fallout 4, play Fallout 4 a lot, but in fact play Fallout 4 to the point that thinking about this game keeps me up at night and has increasingly over time become something that has significant bearing on my real-world activities in a way that baffles and confounds. (It in fact is very beneficial to me that you, my treasured and beloved tumblr mutual, remembers me as notably being a person who cares about Fallout 4 completely unprompted.)

Anyways, here are a few mods that I tend to use most often:

Everyone's Best Friend (Dogmeat and Companion At Same Time - No Console - No Hack) at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This is the one mod I use basically above all else, which is silly given how simple it is. Basically it just lets you have Dogmeat and another companion travel with you simultaneously, so you never have to choose between having your doggy and like, getting important relationship-building story bits and commentary on events. Also useful since it can make combat a little easier since Dogmeat also helps in fights.

Important NPC Essential Edition at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

I hate how I can meet a funny little NPC that I like a lot, assign them to a settlement, and then they get killed in some random mutant raid or whatever. This mod keeps that from happening! A win for funny little NPCs.

True Storms - Wasteland Edition (Thunder-Rain-Weather Redone) at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one adds cooler, more intense weather events that feel a little more immersive than vanilla edition. Definitely good for truly terrifying rad-storm experiences.

GRASSLANDS - A Fallout 4 Grass Overhaul at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Grass! I kinda don't like how dead all the plants are since 200+ years post-apocalypse is more than enough time for greenery to return. This mod helps everything feel a bit more alive and so that it's not like the bombs just dropped like 20 years ago or something.

The Eyes Of Beauty Fallout Edition at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one is great for generally cooler eye options for normal colors, plus every insane color variation you can imagine. Fun for unique character design purposes!

How Convenient at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one gives you a set powerful weapons straight out of the Vault that normally you wouldn't be able to find until much later. I've found it most useful for repeat playthroughs where I don't want to take extra time away from whatever I'm trying to do and grind early-game stuff, and want to just be able to power through a little faster.

Dismiss Porter Gage To Any Settlement at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

If you have the Nuka-World DLC, the companion from there can only typically be dismissed to settlements in the DLC map, which is annoying if you're frequently swapping companions like I tend to. This way you can dismiss him to the same central settlement as other companions if you want to do this too.

Danse GTFO Power Armor at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Normally you can't ask Danse to take his power armor on and off like you can do with other companions, and this quality-of-life mod allows that if you need to go somewhere and you don't want him clomping in a giant metal suit behind you.

And a few silly and fun ones that I enjoy:

Danse Danse Revolution at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Changes the name of the laser rifle Danse gives you to Danse Danse Revolution. That's all.

Buzz Lightyear Paladin Danse at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Turns Danse's power armor into Buzz Lightyear, and Preston Garvey's outfit into Woody the cowboy. Goofy but kinda fitting.

Star Wars - The Lightsaber at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Adds lightsabers as craftable weapons. Not really lore compliant, but fighting in power armor with a lightsaber is sick as hell so who cares.

There are a few more I know of that are more intense story and quest-addition mods, but if you're just playing the game for the first time, they're probably best added later.

Thank YOU for asking and please feel free to send many more asks about Fallout 4. I have many thoughts, and unfortunately for the ENTIRE WORLD, I'm pretty willing to share them.

[moonselune]

sorry to bother but can i get a rolan depression comfort please please? with tav that struggles with really bad depression. thank you, i love the way you write everyone so much. your work and his story in act 3 has kind of made him a big comfort character for me lol

as someone who does struggle with depression there is absolutely no projecting in this whatsoever, definitely none, hope ur okay nonnie!

cw: angst, depression

Rolan x reader | Darkest Times

The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of a struggling fire in the hearth. You sat slumped on the edge of the bed, knees pulled to your chest, as if folding in on yourself could somehow make the suffocating weight on your shoulders easier to bear. The world outside might as well not exist—its colors muted, its sounds distant and meaningless. You hadn’t spoken in hours. Eating seemed like an insurmountable task, and even breathing felt like too much.

Rolan entered cautiously, his boots barely making a sound against the worn floorboards. The ever-present pride and sharp wit that usually defined him were muted tonight. He’d seen the signs before, in others, but watching you unravel felt different. It was intimate, raw, and utterly heartbreaking.

He set down the tray he carried—a mug of tea, a slice of bread, and a book he'd charmed to glow faintly at the edges, just in case the light might soothe you. When you didn’t even glance up, his chest tightened.

“Still quiet, I see,” he said softly, attempting a small smile. It faltered when you didn’t respond. “Well, I suppose you’re saving your biting commentary for later.”

Your lips barely twitched, and Rolan sighed, stepping closer. He crouched in front of you, his eyes searching your face. The usual spark in your gaze was absent, replaced by a dull emptiness that twisted something deep inside him.

“Do you know,” he started, his tone quiet but not pitying, “I used to think I had to hold everything together on my own. Lia and Cal—they needed me. They still do. But I’ve had nights like this, where even the idea of standing felt impossible. And I never let anyone see it. I thought it made me weak.”

He reached out tentatively, resting a warm hand over yours, which were clenched tightly in your lap. You didn’t pull away, but your shoulders tensed beneath his touch.

“I was wrong,” he continued, his voice a low murmur. “It’s not weak to feel like this. It’s not weak to let someone care.”

You sniffled, the smallest crack in the wall you’d built around yourself.

“It’s too much,” you whispered, your voice raw. “I can’t—I don’t know how to get out of this.”

Rolan’s hand tightened around yours, his jaw clenching as if he could will his strength into you. “Then let me help. You’ve done so much for me—more than I deserve, really. Let me be here for you now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, and for the first time in what felt like hours, you tilted your head to look at him. There was no judgment in his sharp green eyes, only concern and something deeper—an unspoken determination to shoulder whatever you couldn’t carry.

“I feel so...broken,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “What if I never feel whole again?”

Rolan knelt beside you fully now, taking both of your hands in his.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I’ve seen your strength, your kindness—even when you thought no one noticed. You are not broken. You are a masterpiece still in progress. And progress isn’t always a straight line.”

You let out a choked laugh, a sound caught between despair and a flicker of hope. “You sound like a self-help book.”

He smirked, the smallest flicker of his usual snark peeking through. “I’m a wizard. I know how to spin a spellbinding tale.”

You laughed again, this time with a bit more warmth. And for a moment, the heaviness eased. It wasn’t gone—it likely wouldn’t vanish overnight—but the way Rolan stayed by your side, unwavering, made it feel a little more manageable.

“I’ll stay as long as you need,” he promised, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “We can sit here in silence, talk about nothing, or I can conjure some ridiculous illusion to distract you. Whatever it takes.”

You nodded, leaning forward until your forehead rested against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close like he was anchoring you to the world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rolan whispered into your hair. “No matter how long it takes.”

And in that quiet moment, with his arms around you and the fire casting soft shadows on the walls, you began to believe him.

this is a bit short as it was quite intense to write it but I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x