#i love these sketches of molly so much

[yudol-skorbi]

assholes

[scribble-kitti]

TGAMM CAUSE I LOVE THIS SHOW SM 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

there’s a million and one things i could say about this show but instead of reading an 80 page essay how bout yall just go watch the show instead :)

[river-of-wine]

Mollying my O'Shea or whatever

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)

WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)

A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”

Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking. 

“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!” 

Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.” 

“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.” 

Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.

Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders. 

Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”

It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.” 

He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.

Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment. 

“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people. 

“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.

Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.

Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands. 

Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance. 

And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him. 

He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing. 

“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket. 

“What about me?” Az asked. 

“Any plans?” 

Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”

Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”

His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that. 

Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up. 

Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved. 

Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days. 

It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met. 

He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days. 

And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it. 

Azriel: how’s the bud?

But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him. 

Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his. 

You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints! 

And then, another.

You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?

Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?

You: would that be ok?

Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?

You: life saver <3 see u then!

He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth. 

//

His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from. 

He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you. 

“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue. 

Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos. 

Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink. 

You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.

And Azriel noticed everything. 

“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?” 

Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.” 

Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did. 

He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats. 

You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms. 

“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”

Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed. 

Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”

Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off. 

He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. 

His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again. 

You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”

His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed. 

“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further. 

“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?” 

Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”

He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it. 

Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants. 

Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony. 

With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself. 

He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate. 

As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free. 

The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself. 

And all he could think about was you. 

Your eyes, your lips, your voice.

He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat. 

Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat. 

His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like. 

As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly. 

But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more. 

//

“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?” 

Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly. 

He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”

She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute. 

“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand. 

He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.” 

“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand. 

Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid. 

Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted. 

His phone chimed from his pocket. 

In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client. 

Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered. 

You: Hey, are you free later?

Azriel: I'm free all night.

When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text. 

Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?

You: see you then.

He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did. 

He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left. 

His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion. 

And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.

And then another. 

And another. 

Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes. 

“Sorry I’m a little late.” 

Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you. 

Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case. 

“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence. 

You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.

Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight. 

Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?

You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.” 

You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out? 

But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip. 

“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you. 

“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.” 

You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”

A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him. 

“Why not?” 

You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real. 

“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?” 

Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.” 

You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise. 

“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?” 

Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you. 

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” 

He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin. 

It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed. 

Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night. 

“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city. 

You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment. 

“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing. 

Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”

You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?” 

He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.” 

You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug. 

“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive. 

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.” 

He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.

Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs. 

A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further. 

You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull. 

The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint. 

With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel. 

You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat. 

With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads. 

“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint. 

Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again. 

“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.” 

You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him. 

Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening. 

“I’ll have the same as you.” 

He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms. 

“You can keep that, too.”

You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by. 

It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that. 

“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”

And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers. 

Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help. 

“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”

Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?” 

“Yeah.” 

He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his. 

“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”

That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you. 

“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding. 

You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away. 

You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”

“Why would they do that?”

There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.” 

You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong. 

“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”

“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards. 

Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.” 

Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face. 

Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick. 

“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”

But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.

A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes. 

And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his. 

Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded. 

Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth. 

He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth. 

It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs. 

The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console. 

Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp. 

In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him. 

But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. 

His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly. 

Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you. 

And that made him sick to his stomach. 

Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.” 

You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his. 

Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself. 

He looked over at your seat again. 

Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste. 

Azriel was fucking done for. 

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[messrmoonyy]

-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She���s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

[ask-indigo-park-swapped]

here it is!! my part of the art trade between me and @cocoapowderpictures where we draw a piece based on each others Indigo Park AU!!!

since i love murder mysteries, and in particular, the Benoit Blanc and the recent Poirot movies, i thought itd be really cool to try drawing Cast Chronicles in the style of a movie poster!! since im also using my achromatic askblog style, i decided to go wild with it since i didn't have to worry about colours as much.

cocoapowderpictures's part of the art trade was already posted and looks cool as shit check it out here!! (if you like my art and want to see more also check out my main blog @niftukkun !!)

some details im proud of under the cut!! :

- if you look in the penumbra shadows you can see bits of foreshadowing!! (haha. foreshadow.) since we still dont know much of how lloyd and salem dies i decided to keep them vague and not actually alluding to the actual death part, just to them in general. finley and mollie however do reference what we know of their deaths - rambley and salem are the only ones whos faces are completely covered and that was very intentional since they are implied to have known something the others dont :)) i love scary ominous foreshadowing - lloyds face is also somewhat turned away because as the second to last to disappear i think hed have some idea of whats happening. maybe not the full or even accurate idea but i think hes clever enough to have known hed also disappear sooner or later - my very clever use of red!! initially i didn't want to use colour at all but when the piece was close to done i tested putting red on the edges and really liked it so i decided to put in some symbolism!! a story whose name is covered in blood (as murder mysteries often are) and clueless characters in the dark, only seeing hints of the truth until its too late

heres some of the initial sketches cause i think theyre funny

[letstrythisout4]

There is overlap in these traits but when it comes to their thing, their niche.

James Sirius is the artist (in every sense and medium)

Albus Severus is the academic

Lily Luna is the athlete

James was the kid to draw on the walls. His paint hand prints were everywhere. Used the pots and pans as a drum set until Harry bought him one of his own and set it up in an extra room. The room quickly became filled with loads of instruments, so many that they eventually expanded the interior of the room. The room had instruments, paints, markers, canvases, posters, fake walls to be spray painted on, a recording area, shelves to be filled with vinyls, sketchbooks, and journals. He writes novels, short stories, and poems. He knits and crochets (Molly for sure taught him). He creates and paints pottery. Anything creative James has a hand in it.

Albus Severus who is so incredibly book smart. Starts reading absurdly young. Cares so much about learning about all there is to know that Ravenclaw is a genuine consideration of where he should be placed. Spent almost all his time growing up outside looking to the stairs for Astronomy studies. Loves to be babysat by Neville because Neville has an amazing greenhouse and is always willing to explain what every plant is, its properties and how it's used most frequently. And then in the muggle world (because I’m a firm believer that Harry makes his kids go to muggle school) number one student, the one kids go to whenever the teacher is busy. Doesn’t really have a best subject but he likes Math and Science the most. 

Lily Luna does every sport, every damn one. In her pre-k some girl is talking about gymnastics and Lily is like “I want to do that” and Harry is already used to giving into his kids creative endeavors so he immediately signs her up and she is a natural. Then it just expands, she is on almost every single team that her school offers. Swim, track, cross-country, volleyball, skating (ice and you know regular skateboarding), snowboarding, softball, american football, soccer, every single sport. From the age of 4 every single week the entire Potter family is at some sort of competition or showcase to support the baby of the family. Quidditch isn’t even a question, girl is one of the -if not the- most successful Chaser to come out of Hogwarts.

All of them are very successful in their fields, the Potters have several display cases of trophies, ribbons and plaques with all their names. And while they are all talented in parts of each other's fields, its very select you know? James is a chaser and Albus is a seeker, and considered two of the best of this era in Hogwarts. Albus sketches the plants that he discusses in his notes, and Lily has been known to doodle on her essays. And Lily and James are considered some of the best of their years. All of them are very powerful and talented but they dominate- no competition- in their respective fields.

[felicjana050896]

Hell's Great Dad Song: Charlastor's Analysis (Part 2)

Here's part 1:

Coming back after a break, first for a good mood, the second best character after Alastor in HH (in my opinion):

Lucifer!!!

Cap crushing ;)

And fixing :D

Aside from another big lie and blatantly showing that Alastor is saying this because of Lucifer (his gaze on Lucifer instead of focusing on Charlie if he was actually directing it at her), we don't see Charlie's face here, which if anything is done on purpose because in at this point, Charlie probably wanted to vomit from disgust because of these words :D

Of course, another lie, because Alastor doesn't want to be her assistant, he doesn't want to be at her service, he wants her to be at his service.

In this last shot, let's take a look at the hotel presented by Alastor:

And let's compare it with a photo of the actual hotel:

In the original hotel, on the top of the roof on the left and right we have some kind of horns, similar in shape to Charlie's horns (and Lucifer's horns), because she is the owner of the hotel, in Alastor's vision, these horns turn into deer horns, of course, which shows his desire for power not so much over the hotel , but over Charlie.

Sir Pent's ship, if in the series we also see this ship with an open mouth:

In Alastor's version, he has his tongue stuck out :D

Moreover, it is interesting that we have two pairs of three arrows on the hotel, one pointing to the hotel entrance (Charlie) and the other to the radio tower (Alastor).

Here again a lie, Alastor is a predator and one who in my opinion prefers to spend a little more and try harder to get something he wants, straight paths bore him, I think that even though it is a lie (on Alastor's part), it can be the implication that Charlie may ultimately be more of a challenge than he assumes.

True, we know that Alastor loves his mother very much, but what about his father..., I once read a theory that his father could be a bad person, that he could abuse his family and who knows..., maybe it's true.

Again true, but... Alastor didn't include himself or Niffty in the sketches behind him, this could mean that he doesn't see himself and Niffty as part of this 'family', but it could also mean (due to him being at the front sketches, not next to her) that he sees himself as someone more important to Charlie, he is right in the center, in front of her and he is and should be the most important to her, it can also mean both of these things.

Also, first we have Sir Pent, the first dead and the first to go to heaven, this could be the order of death and ascent, if Angel dies next (and I think there is a high probability of that, because first: Angel is really trying to be better and actually he wants this redemption; secondly, we saw his sister, Molly in heaven:

she even stands out specially from the other characters in the frame, so we will definitely have her in s2. Plus Viv said that the second season will focus more on Vees, which means something could happen to Val, he is the one who is most likely to go to the fire in my opinion (sorry, but I don't believe in Val's redemption, in my opinion he has to die), because of the harassment Angel, he even lick Charlie..., I have a feeling that Val will die in s2, and Angel will then be free and will be redeemed.

Then we have Husker, I see Huskerdust's realationship, I also see that Husker's death after Angel makes sense, the only question is what about his contract with Alastor..., I don't see that having a contract, having sold a soul, someone can ascend to heaven, first the contract needs to get rid of, Alastor is the main character along with Charlie so he won't die halfway through the story, so somehow Husker will have to regain his freedom from Alastor, the question is how?

And the last Vaggie, if this is indeed a foreshadowing of their death and ascent, then Vaggie will return to heaven too..., I recently wrote a post about Alastor trying to steal Charlie:

so the last death and rise of Vaggie would make sense if Alastor wins (because somehow I don't think Charlie will leave hell, and I don't believe in long-distance relationships :P ). You can also see it here:

On one side we have Vaggie, on the other side we have Alastor and Niffty, Charlie is facing Alastor and Niffty, and Lucifer (the angel) is facing Vaggie.

Or here:

First we focus on Vaggie, but soon the frame enters:

Alastor(!!!) and Vaggie is already further, behind him, the frame stops focusing on her. Alastor enters Charlie's space and the relationship between Charlie and Vaggie, followed closely by, of course:

Niffty, which, as I also said in my previous post (which I linked above), is important, just like KeeKee.

Coming to the end of the song, Alastor and his ego... whatever he gets involved in (even if he's not the first) he has to finish ;)

And finally, beautiful photos of Angel straight from his door :D

Thank you for reading and have a nice day, evening or night :)

[greenerteacups]

Hi GT, I hope you are doing well! who is your favorite Weasley?

Thank you! Absolute treat of a question. Oh, man. It's Ron, right? It was always going to be Ron.

So here's the thing: the Weasleys are a really well-characterized family in that you can kind of see a lot of character emerge through limited sketches and contextual information. Bill is Number One Boy, the best at everything, oldest child who was always confident and at peace with his indisputable place in the family; so he's a chill, cool, incredibly competent guy who naturally takes-charge. Charlie is a patented never-grew-out-of-your-middle-school-dragons-phase Weird Kid, but like, mindfully and enthusiastically so, because his parents probably still had plenty of time to support and nurture his interests; plus he's also different to Bill and excels in different ways, so they aren't too competitive (as we see). Percy is the first one to suffer from the pressure of mounting expectations, and he's very quickly followed by the twins, who do the classic "if I can't be the best I'll be the worst" late-sibling trick of acting up for attention, so he gets lost in the shuffle. (The fight between Ron and Percy in Chapter 58 is, hence, in substantially about the relationship between the two most-ignored members of the Weasley family, and that's why Ron is so much angrier at him than the rest of them. Like I've said before, Ron always thinks he's got it the worst, but he takes pride in being able to kinda "tough it out," and nothing pisses him off like other people's self-pity.) Ginny is obviously the baby of the family, a girl with everyone wrapped around her finger, and I love her, but I feel like we didn't get enough grit in her portrait— she's just really successful in everything she does, in a way that can read as flat to some people, and certainly read as flat to me my first time through the books. In fact, Ginny reminds me a lot of Bill: first daughter/first son, described often as "cool" and clever and good at basically everything, charming and generally liked by all. Which is lovely. A delight to read, just like the twins are. But my taste in characters ranges way more fucked-up and mean.

Ron is the last boy, "sixth son of a woman who wanted a daughter" (fascinating line that complicates everything we know about Molly's relationship with her kids — and BTW, how the hell does Ron know that, and how old was he when he learned it? And this also comes into play with Molly's cry of "not my daughter" to Bellatrix which like, as a moment obviously fucking rules, but also — there's a reason she says daughter, not "child," right? Do you see what I'm digging at? Anyway). Ron meets Harry and recognizes himself in how Harry defaults to thinking people don't care about him, or won't help him if he asks, because — although they come from very different circumstances, Ron's home was completely loving, just not as nurturing as he always needed it to be — Ron usually goes in assuming people don't care about him, too. So his first instinct is to go: "Alright. Well, I'll care about you, then, weird stranger. Do you want to share my horrible sandwich, and also my life, perhaps?" Goddamn! Sixth of seven in a house with never enough to go around, and he's immediately like: "fuck it, room for one more." Because he could have been Percy — and you can see it in the way that Ron is mean, sometimes, he's not careful with his words and he struggles with empathy and he's got a vengeful streak that comes out when he's pissed — but he isn't selfish enough, he loves too much and too easily, and it takes shockingly little to earn his loyalty. You just have to pay a little attention to him.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

The Muse Theory

This is all just for fun, BUT it's plausible. Also, it may be completely debunked based on Sydney's timeline - that's still a mystery.

Theory: It would be an epic romantic plot twist if- Carmy first laid eyes on Sydney in New York. He remembers her, at least; he thinks he remembers her. He observed her as she ate his meal- the best meal she'd ever had, and after his shift, he made a sketch of her.

This was inspired by a conversation with @currymanganese and @yangsharperavery fanedit with my favorite song, "Favorite Faded Fantasy," by Damien Rice.

Carmy was going to tell Syd she looks familiar, but in Carmy's mind, it would seem creepy to tell a girl. hey, I remember seeing you at my restaurant, I didn't approach you, but I remembered that moment I first laid eyes on you. He's avoidant that way.

How did he see her eat his meal when he was in the kitchen? I noticed the new kitchen is similar Eleventh Madison Park, We didn't see what was in front of Carmy in the 1x02 episode hands but I'm guessing it was a window- one that Carmy can see through and watch a girl sitting by herself visibly enjoying one of his meals.

Since artists have a keen eye- he remembers her because of how much she inspired him at that moment. When he told Natalie in 1x02 Hands that people loved the food it had to do with watching Sydney eat.

Why keep this a secret? It's because he really liked staring at her - that was an intimate moment for Carmy- to stare at a woman like that - he hasn't experienced that kind of intimacy since drawing Claire.

True intimacy for Carmy is just staring at a woman, really just deep connection like that and I loved to be a part of something like that where it wasn't some sexy naked thing, it was just looking into each other's eyes.-Molly Gordon

Now, how does he remember Sydney when he couldn't remember Claire? Carmy remembers more than he lets on. He remembers Claire's address, but he can't remember the face or that she sat behind him in algebra class? This seems like he's avoiding it since he was ridiculed for expressing himself.

When Claire mentions the drawings- He lies and tells her it was shorts- when really it was Claire.

he mentions the designer that came into his restaurant, and it really inspired him to draw again.

Plot twist: what if it wasn't the designer that came into his restaurant- what if it was Sydney that evening, wearing her signature Thom Brown pieces.

So, during a grueling shift at this restaurant, he sees Sydney. He watches her as she enjoys his meal, and he starts drawing again on a napkin later that evening- the dream to draw again came back because of Sydney.

Is this far-fetched? I think not- this show has some serendipitous moments.

And is it stalkerish? Absolutely not- it's healthy and normal for an artist to have muse- too bad Richie and Mikey gave him a hard time about it.

Why should an artist have a muse?

Inspiration can be a transformative force, allowing artists to tap into their full potential and produce works that are both meaningful and powerful. A muse can provide a sense of direction, helping artists navigate the creative process and bring their ideas to fruition. -link

This could be the best love mystery! For me, at least.

[kaliesuriens]

My math class was boring, so i doodle Sean on my sketch, because i love him very much ❤

🎵 "raising hell with the gang thats where I'm bound, is with those gunslingers dear mollie I roam" 🎵

I want to cry every time I listen to this song

[masculinemiracles]

Few questions (super invested!)

Were Husk and Angel in love at time of conception?

Was Husk ecstatic at the thought of being a father?

Will Whitney have siblings?

More fankiddies in this AU? :)

What'll happen if Heaven catch wind of this... unique situation?

Will Emily, Sera, Molly and/or Sir Pentious play a part?

Is this going to be a full comic or fic or combo of both?

How did Angel get pregnant/the organs he needed to conceive a child? Magic? Curse by Alastor?

Woah! Lemme see if I can answer these all!

Yes! They had been secretly involved for a few months since the Val incident. Husk didn't rush Angel into anything until he was ready the night before the war :)

He is! But it was overshadowed by the worry

That I'm not sure of, two sinners conceiving a child naturally is already near impossible. So they would realistically only have another kid if they asked maybe Charlie or Alastor for one

Yup!

:) Heaven does NOT want this to get out of hand. They specifically do not want the sinners reproducing, especially when hell is as overpopulated as it is. Lute wants to take things into her own hands.

Emily and Sera will! Not sure about Molly or Repentious

I'm honestly not sure! I'm good at doing both, and drawing is a big passion of mine, especially when I see how much people like the end result. Making the comics takes a lot of time. The first part alone took close to 35 hours from sketch to finish because of how difficult drawing on my phone is <\3. I'll probably have some kinda fic going on on the side but I'm not entirely sure yet!

The easiest explanation is that he's trans in my au, but everyone has their own interpretation of how it happened!

[midnightstargazer]

I'm super excited for the @ladiesofhpfest, and I can't wait to share with what I've been working on with y'all! Here are some sneak peeks at what I've got planned for each theme:

Mothers and Daughters

There will hopefully be two fics, a (mostly) fluffy one about Astoria raising Scorpius and a very angsty one about Barty Crouch Jr.'s mother and her decision to take his place in Azkaban. The Mrs. Crouch one is still a WIP - I only got the idea a few days ago - but hopefully it will be ready in time.

Senior Sweethearts

Come join me in an AU where a few things go differently in DH and, as a result, Andromeda gets to grow old surrounded by her loved ones. Also featuring a very sweet friendship between Andromeda and Astoria.

Out and Proud

For last year's fest I broke Emmeline Vance's heart in a fic titled Midnight Rain. This year, she meets Hestia Jones and gets another chance at love and happiness.

Women of the House of Black

For this theme, I'm exploring one of my favorite headcanons: that Iola Black, who was disowned for marrying a Muggle several generations ago, was never forgotten by the women of the family, and her story was passed down as a cautionary tale.

Character Chic

A character sketch of Marietta Edgecombe. What sort of person is she? Why did she betray the D.A.? How does she move on with her life with broken trust, gaps in her memory, and a mistake she made at sixteen permanently scarred onto her face?

Marauders Era Misses

I've been promising an Emmeline-centric first war fic for a while, and it's finally on its way! Despite being a very background character in canon, she's someone I have a lot of headcanons about - and here, I'll be delving into aspects of her story that I've alluded to but didn't fully explore in other fics, especially Midnight Rain and To Have Loved and Lost.

Women of Color

An eighth year fic starring Padma Patil, who returns to Hogwarts after the battle to finish her education and figure out what comes next. How do you go back to your ordinary life after a year like the one she and her peers have just been through?

Rebels and Renegades

The fic version of this Tumblr post: Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon as Riddle Era women who remember Voldemort from their school days and are among the first to join the Order of the Phoenix. This is still very much a WIP and will probably be the longest fic I write for the fest - but luckily, the theme isn't until August, so I've still got plenty of time!

Next Gen Girlies

This was actually the first one I wrote for this summer's fest, featuring Molly and Lucy Weasley. The two sisters are very different people, but they love and support each other nevertheless. It's also yet another excuse for me to delve into the topic of squibs, which apparently I just can't stay away from.

[newtonsheffield]

OHHH molly im able to read LH new chapter now and im dying to see the scene were mary get Tharman Sharma in the floor of her concert!!! hahaha pleaseee

Oh young Mary, she was an absolute wild child. The way Kate flirts with Anthony is tame compared with how Mary flirted in her hey day.

Just after they got engaged, Kate was at home but Tharman had come to her show, both of them still giddy in the newness of their engagement and about halfway through the show Mary sighed into the microphone.

“So… something really exciting happened to me this week.” She chuckled as the crowd roared and her bandmates rolled their eyes at the way she wiggled her eyebrows. “Can you believe, a really cute little man asked me to marry him?!”

The crowd roared and she could see him grinning off stage applauding with everyone else.

“Do you guys want to meet the future Me Mary Sheffield? He’s pretty cute!”

The crowd roared again and she put her bass down on the stand skipping across the stage, and grabbing his hand.

“Mary I don’t-”

“Come on,” she kissed his cheek, adjusting his glasses, “Deep breath, they’ll love you.”

She tugged him out and the crowd roared again as he waved nervously, clinging to her hand as she approached the microphone.

“Everyone, this is Tharman. Say Hi, Tharman.”

He cleared his throat, shifting nervously, “Hi, everyone.”

“Doesn’t he look very sweet in his little vest? His Mum made it for him in her knitting club, Hi to Edna if she’s watching tonight. Can’t wait for you to give me your opinion on what I’m about to do next.”

“What are you…?”

Mary winked at him, “Who thinks the rest of the band should play Red Hot while I give Tharman a little lap dance?”

The crowd erupted and the band started playing, their heads thrown back as they laughed and Tharman looked like a deer in headlights.

“Lay down.” She jerked her head.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?!” He asked, hardly putting up much of a fight.

“I think this is a great fucking idea.” She said pushing on his shoulders until he sat on the stage, and then pressed his shoulder against the stage with the toe of her boot. Swaying her hips in time to the music she started grinding against him as the music swelled and the crowd roared.

And a month later she was barely surprised when she sat on their sofa, Sketching on a T-shirt for Kate to wear who was bouncing in front of her.

“Doesn’t Daddy already know about the baby? Didn’t he order it with you?”

Mary felt her face twitch for a moment, “I… That’s not really how it works.”

“How does it work?”

“Come and try this on for me, baby girl.”

Kate scrambled forward, dropping the conversation for now, holding her arms up for Mary to slide it over her head

“Do I look good?”

Mary smiled as she ran her fingers over the letters on the shirt

Best Big Sister

“Oh sweetheart you always look pretty. Inside and outside.”

[blanche-elizabeth-devereaux]

I'm sorry to annoy you but can you tell me about your Arthur x Molly modern au headcanons?

ah no, of course!!! I love ranting about all my fav ships and headcanons, so you're the one indulging me ♥️ it's kind of a general au rather than separate headcanons lol

background: Dutch owns a mechanic shop that used to be a front for money laundering until they supposedly went straight

Arthur is a mechanic & Molly was the receptionist.

was, because she quit after an argument with Dutch (which resulted in their messy breakup)

her & Arthur got to know each other since he used to spend the few breaks he had sketching in a chair behind her desk bc she was the only one who wouldn't beg to look through his journal

Molly writes poetry and also knits!!

(she might make a scarf for Arthur eventually lol)

they were usually just friendly or civil with each other until one day she happened to see what he was drawing & a convo struck up (them bonding over art is consistent across every universe for me btw 😂)

they realize they have a connection but both refuse to act on it - Molly bc she's in denial & Arthur bc the guilt is too much.

they'd spend so much time talking about everything from art to family - the homes and people they still miss.

after she left, Arthur spends all his break time avoiding everyone in his truck, something Hosea definitely notices

Arthur's truck is his baby btw. he has a smaller, kid safe car that he hates driving & only uses it when he has Isaac on weekends.

SO!! Molly knows nothing about cars. she was only there bc of her relationship with Dutch (something some other employees/gang members were bitter about)

of course it's after she's cut out Dutch that she starts having car troubles and breaks down on the side of the road 👀

she calls the only person at Outlaw Autos she feels comfortable with... Arthur ♥️

and of course Arthur would never leave a lady stranded, so he comes to help in record time.

it's a little awkward at first but soon enough the ice breaks & convo flows again.

Molly admits that the fight was just the catalyst for an inevitable breakup

Arthur casually slips in his she should've ended it a long time ago & that she deserves better.

it doesn't help that Arthur's an attractive man fixing her car & there was already tension between them (he's gone full Hot Grease Monkey)

she invites him out to eat as a thank you for fixing her car

one meal turns into two, then three, then before they know it they need to admit that it's no longer a nice meal between "friends"

I choose to mostly forget that Dutch exists in this au 😂

[wishingicouldfly]

Favorite Fics 2023

Happy 2024! I always have a hard time narrowing down my favorites. A few stats this year, I read 155 fics (according to my admittedly not 100% correct database), and it's low because I've been watching LGBTQ+ media and reading less. I had 50+ fics that I rated 5/5, so narrowing down to 14 was me cutting out shorts, holiday fics, and rereads. These are in no particular order.

All is now Harmed by Fondleeds

It's still that dreamy kind of dark, nothing seeming real, but he knows that it's time to go, to whistle for Pippa and eat whatever he's got left in the fridge and start the drive down to Molly's. He can't seem to open the door. Maybe he doesn't want to face it, this new thing. Having Louis here feels like a betrayal. Harry tries not to think about what his Dad would have to say if he saw the journo sleeping on their pull-out, here to shake a settled sheet and watch the dust fly again. - AU. Harry's a farmer, Louis writes for The Age, and it hasn't rained in the Bourke Shire for six years.

Why I Like It: This is Excellent, but after 123K words, it's a WIP. Unfinished since May 2022, but that said, the writing is gorgeous, and I think that alone makes it worth the read.

2. Angels Fly by LilyBlue28

Harry is a lonely omega in the North Western White River Pack who is uncharacteristically drawn to nature and his now outdated primal instincts. He fills his days with going through the motions and clinging to the one actual friendship he has in the omega Zayn, and when he gets a chance he sneaks away to the edge of their territory to sit with the trees and the wildlife and sketch his favorite part of the river. But what happens when one day he spots the pack alpha, Louis, having an intimate moment with something, or someone, unexpected? Suddenly his quiet, nearly invisible existence gets upended, and secrets he never wanted to know quite literally won't leave him alone, and even when he tries to stay away, he keeps being pulled back into Louis' turbulent orbit. A magical love story featuring a generations long grudge, a menacing curse, and secrets that keep pulling them apart. Will they be able to find a way back to one another through the dark?

Why I Like It: Really integrated plot, soul mates/wolf story. ABO, but more wolf than human. Very involved plot. Well done.

3. Be There by mission2feelike

Niall sits down dramatically, arms flopping to his side before he leans forward and looks right into Harry's eyes. "So, your ex-boyfriend, who broke your heart four years ago, is coming to stay at your house for six weeks? And his daughter, your daughter, is coming to stay tonight?"

Harry nods, worried if he speaks, he'll be yelled at again, but then Niall's face softens, his ever-present smile is back and Harry hears him breathe out a small chuckle. "Okay, for the record, I think this is the worst idea you've ever had, but how can we help?" or The one where their family has been torn apart and their hearts broken, but an accident, a snowstorm, cinnamon rolls, and the adorable Josie force Louis and Harry to finally face the truth, and each other.

Why I Like It: Harry and Louis take custody of Lottie's baby, but Louis breaks H's heart by sending him away. pining. kid fic. Harry is famous. Had some very lovely domestic moments, and some tear jerkers. Louis was a bit of a jerk at the beginning. Side of Ziam.

4. Butterfly Gun by Eravain - no link, this is off AO3, but DM me if you want me to share it with you, as I have a PDF.

Harry has never been much of a fighter, but—as always—where Louis Tomlinson is concerned, a lot of things stop being true. 1940's AU. Even after six years apart, they can't forget their shared wartime childhood.

Why I Like It: I loved this gem--childhood friends to lovers. Historical Fiction. Really well written.

5. Counterbalance by YesIsAWord

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis "Tommo" Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry's class.

Why I Like It: Pretty short but very effectively written story. Pacing was good. Loved the dichotomy of Harry as a ballerina and as a motorcycle driver. 

6. Danger I Can't Hide by CelticSky

"Don't," Tomlinson's voice was low, gravelled, hiding out in the night where only Styles could hear it. "Stop it. Calm down. You can't do anything." Styles' chest heaved. Tomlinson had him pinned against the wall, his forearm strong against his ribs. The night air crackled around them and all he could hear was the overlap of their breath, desperation, exquisite need and pain and desire and longing and lingering resistance. He couldn't take his eyes from Tomlinson's lips. The way they fell open to expel air against Harry's jaw. His tongue darting out to wet them between desperate words, making them glisten in what little light there was. His eyes were lidded and unseeing as he himself looked down to stare at Styles' mouth. ~~~ Flying Officer Styles and Sergeant Tomlinson would have likely never crossed paths in a time of peace, their ordinary lives laid out neatly, predictably before them. But then the world became unrecognisable. All too soon they grew accustomed to fear, surrounded by death and destruction, not even their very freedom a certainty anymore. Until they found each other. Comfort. Companionship. Understanding. Another person to lose.

Why I Like It: Amazing. Research into WW2 and what it was like to be queer and hiding a relationship. loved the love story, but also the human side of the war. Very well told.

7. Have Love, Will Travel by Kingsofeverything

Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series. It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there's something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

Why I Like It: super cute. Road Trip Larry. Lots of state parks, travel. Louis has a crush and of course they end up together.

8. Heading for Limbo by KingsofEverything

Childhood best friends who've fallen in and out of touch with each other since Louis' family moved away when they were thirteen, Harry and Louis find their paths crossing again and again. Each time, no matter how many miles apart or how many years it's been, it's as if no time has passed. They fall back into their easy friendship, until life intervenes and sends them on their separate ways once more. When Harry discovers some life-changing things about himself, Louis is there for him, however he needs. But it's all temporary because Louis has plans that will move his life from New York all the way to L.A. and the distance isn't the only thing between them. The pieces of their twice broken hearts are scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

Why I Like It: I really liked this one. Slow burn, friends to not-friends, to lovers, to exes, to lovers. Word of caution, H has a gf for part of it, but it's a really nice slow awakening of his sexuality. TW for some angst/pining.

9. Glass Closets and Greenhouses by TiredTiredTz

Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters. Sources close to the pair tell us the couple have been dating for a while, with rumours of house hunting, marriage and even kids on the cards! Styles, 29, is as well known for his whirlwind love life as his chart-topping music. Most recently linked to British fashion designer Alex Millet-Sloan, Harry has stayed tight-lipped on rumours of any romantic rendezvous between himself and footballer Tomlinson, 31, yet fans online are convinced that all evidence points to #Tomlinstyles being the real deal.

Why I Like It: Could have been longer. A bit over the top meet cute w/ the twins setting them up, but over all well done. 

10. It's Fine to Fake it 'Til You Make ('Til It's True) by Sunflouwerhabit

Harry dreads an impending visit to his hometown, where he’ll be forced to reunite with a newly engaged ex-boyfriend, a childhood best friend turned near stranger, and a family who never understood just how desperately he needed to leave. In the midst of it all, a ludicrous Twitter proposition brings him to Louis.

Why I Like It: I loved this one. Super cute characters, a little bit of miscommunication, lovely, lovely boys. 

11. Like an Endless Summer by objectlesson - no link, I have this as an epub

Louis is an riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor wh he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two years. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’ formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

Why I Like It: absolutely lovely. GREAT depiction of the uncertainty of a crush liking you. slow burn, but you see it coming the whole way. 

12. The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by KingsofEverything

Louis' life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it'll never be the same.

Why I Like It: really liked this one. TW for cheating. Middle aged man in a loveless marriage realizes he's gay and falls in love with a co-worker. Could totally be a Hallmark movie.

13. Until the Pearls get Lost by LadyLondonderry

London, 1933. Harry Styles, alpha, elusive bachelor and happy third wheel to his coupled friends, receives a visit from one Liam Payne, begging for his help. Liam’s childhood friend Louis is about to become the talk of the city; left at the altar because the mating bond was rejected, Louis will spend the rest of his life in an institution unless Liam can find someone to take him in and care for him as he recovers. Most omegas with failed bonds are never the same again. With rumours swirling around about the reason for the rejected bond, Harry gives in to Liam’s pleas. He hasn’t the slightest idea how that decision will shape the rest of his life.

Why I Like It: This felt like a fairy tale. Great writing. A bit left to the imagination. Almost werewolf-y. 

14. Write This Down by Sunflouwerhabit

"And Louis responds by kissing him. He closes his eyes and presses their lips together and hopes it’s enough to distract from how those words cut and extracted critical pieces of his heart, his soul. Louis kisses Harry to avoid sobbing, yelling, pleading, begging him to never, ever use words like always or never or I promise, because they can’t. They don’t have an always. Nevers will forever remain a mere dream. Time has run out for commitments or oaths or pledges and if Louis is going to be okay- if he’s going to enjoy this time with Harry and then let him go and still feel whole- he can’t let himself start thinking long term. He can’t let this become emotional; something more than silliness and fun and sex. He can’t hear Harry say he’s proud of him when he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see him again after this week. 'I miss you,' Harry murmurs, his breaths warm and equally shaky. 'All the time.' Louis kisses him harder."

Why I Like It: I really loved this contemporary romance. Lots of angst, boys being stupid thinking they are protecting each other by not communicating. But ultimately a lovely story. New favorite.