#i am still on hiatus btw

[thetomorrowshow]

time enough for counting

heyyyyyyy sorry

cw: jimmy is still dead, mourning/funeral stuff, loneliness, brief mentions of blood/being killed

~

I haeve left the artefaktes in the hands of the living gods. Taeke holde of them bothe and defeate Exor.

Scott rubs his eyes, sits back in his chair. He's read through the Alinar's cramped cursive instructions in the back of the book over and over again.

Because they are instructions, strangely enough. As far as Scott can tell, Alinar wrote his entire plan to defeat Conal in the back of this book, as frustratingly vague as it is.

Written several times throughout is 'mine apologies fore any person who is nowe fighting an daemone, as I have been vayge in my writing. I feare that this booke myte fall into the hands of the enemie, and fore this purpose mine detailes are sparse'.

The details are kind of sparse, but not as badly as he'd expected. For one thing, Alinar details exactly what kind of mountain he'd locked Conal in, specifying that it isn't the exact location that matters, it needs to be a strong holding place connected to Aeor's power. And there's an entire spell written for making a crystal that should be able to trap Exor's Champion. Not that Scott is capable of that kind of magic, but he could give it to Gem and she could probably create it.

The actually frustrating part is the artifacts. Alinar won't describe them, or where they are, or how to use them. He just cites the same 'taeke holde of them bothe and defeate Exor' whenever he mentions them, and twice he writes that he left them with 'living gods', whatever that means.

Scott's pretty sure he has one of the two artifacts already. He'd found the golden antler crown in that cave, and he knows it dates at least back to Alinar, if not before. The scholars that have examined it have declared it to be of magical properties, and he knows that it has a strong connection to one of the only living gods that he knows of.

So he has the antlers. But there is zero description of what the other artifact might be, or where it might be, or who it was given to.

And Scott has no clue where to start.

It's his most important work to focus on, but his councils never give him time to work on it. He is, after all, running a war right now.

The forces of Mythland have joined up with those of the Lost Empire to launch a targeted attack on the Ocean Kingdom. fWhip's still biding his time, sending out spies (which frequently get caught by Lizzie) and little armies to test the waters at various borders. Scott's work so far has mostly been in setting patrols for his own borders, and sending soldiers out to aid the Ocean Kingdom—not desperately needed, but a good show of their alliance. But having all those forces concentrated on the Ocean Kingdom? Giving the other empires plenty of time to prepare their defenses?

Why Xornoth wants to take down Lizzie is entirely beyond Scott.

It's actually been a minute since he spoke with Lizzie face-to-face—two weeks, to be precise.

Fourteen days since that meeting.

Fourteen days since Jimmy's death was confirmed.

Nine days since Scott released an official mourning statement, mostly written by somebody else who had no real idea of what he and Jimmy shared.

And three days since Ilphas gently suggested working with Lizzie to plan a memorial service for Jimmy.

The court, far too late, has ruled that he and Jimmy remained betrothed despite their eschewing of the betrothal law, due to the state of emergency. So added to his mourning robes is a veil, simpler than those he and Jimmy wore during the betrothal period, plain black cloth with a matching hood.

Mourning vestments are generally worn for a year when the death was of someone close, such as a parent or spouse. Or, in this case, fiance.

Scott's stuck in a mockery of the betrothal he hadn't been able to finish for an entire year.

And now he needs to plan a funeral for his love.

Before he can chicken out, Scott grabs his communicator from his new satchel that hangs off his chair.

The satchel was a gift from the Codlands and had arrived the same day the Cod Empire fell. It's hand-stitched, from what he can tell, with a design in blue of a leaping stag and a cod forming a circle on the side, the main bag a demure brown. He finds himself, sometimes, running his thumb along the stitches of the cod in a self-soothing motion. Since he received it, the bag has barely left his side.

It's a humble gift, one certainly not fit for a king. But Scott sees in it the hard work of someone, or several someones, who only wished to show their appreciation and acceptance to the fiance of their beloved Codfather.

Scott carries it as if it holds the same amount of worth as his crown, and his advisors know better than to say anything about it.

Have you any time for a visit to make memorial plans?

He sets his communicator down, flips to a new page in the ancient book. He has an Old Elvish to Elvish dictionary, but it takes forever to even parse through a paragraph of the original story. And this is less the classic tale of the Two Stags and more a history of Aeor, and while that's very helpful and educational, it's stupidly difficult to understand.

His communicator buzzes before Scott can even begin reading.

Tomorrow.

Right then.

Scott should probably inform his council.

-

Scott stops in the church on his way out of town—strange, for him, but he's trying to show his dedication to Aeor—and just wanders through the hall of paintings there: depictions of Aeor, and Alinar, and other heroes and times.

He halts, meandering, before a large portrait of Alinar that's never seemed to draw him in in the past. He remembers being a child, here in the hall on his way to his religious studies, walking far slower than necessary just to gaze at all the art but passing over this one with little consideration.

In the painting, Alinar sits on his throne, the whole hall laid out before him. His chin is held high, his robes lavish and deep blue, his crown of antlers shining gold. The hilt of a sword sticks out behind the back of the throne, a brown streak of paint against the beams of light filtering in through the grand windows behind Alinar.

Alinar himself is missing his left arm—a common depiction of the king, one that Scott read a scholarly debate about several years ago. The generally accepted theory is that it represents the distance and early death of his closest friend, a desert nomad tribe leader known to the elves as Lisdes—one of very few non-elves that has been granted a presence in the most glorious of heavens for his heroic works. Other theories include that it is a representation of the civil war fought under his reign—when Conal, his own twin brother, rebelled, it was like losing his arm; or that it is a representation of Alinar's control in many parts of the world, with one hand overseeing the elven colonies of the east (long gone) while the other rules from home.

There are many theories, but none have been found true, especially since the depiction isn't universal. Somewhere around fifty percent of the artists that have created a likeness of him do so without the arm, but the others include it. For all anyone knows, one artist forgot the arm and everyone else decided it was so meaningful that they needed to copy it.

The last one is unlikely. There's a folk tale of Alinar and Lisdes journeying together to a mountain of fire to retrieve his lost arm, so it probably had its beginnings in something other than a painting. Whatever it was, the truth has been lost to time.

In this painting, there is no one near Alinar. There are groups of people milling around in the hall below his gaze, but none of them interact with him, or even look to him.

Scott's always thought, looking at this, that Alinar was rather haughty.

Now, he sees him as lonely.

This portrait was painted only a couple of hundred years after his death, titled simply 'A King'. No embellishments of the ancient hero, none but those painted: the crescent moon halo hanging above his head, the jewels hanging from his robes, the carefully-detailed chain earring looping down around his long ear.

He's a king.

Nothing more, nothing less.

An elf with the role of leadership.

Adorned in gold and rich cloth, secluded above the other elves, looking down almost mournfully upon his people.

It's funny, Scott thinks, that he's never related to this painting. He'd always preferred the one two paintings down, of Alinar plunging a golden sword into a one-eyed monster, a pillar of light shining down on him from a moon above him.

That one seems to hold less wonder than it always did.

In that one, he can't help but see the pain in Alinar's determined eyes.

How much did he lose in his journey to become a hero?

His brother. Citizens of his kingdom. His best friend.

More, maybe, that was never written.

Never remembered.

Will Scott's losses be remembered?

Will Jimmy be more than a quick mark in the history books?

In the 109th year of his life, King Smajor was briefly engaged to the ruler of the Codlands. The ruler was killed in battle.

To an outsider's point of view, that is the maximum relevance that Jimmy has had on Scott's life.

Jimmy isn't some hero, as Lisdes was. He's just . . . just Jimmy. And his time here was short.

Far too short.

Maybe even insignificant. He established—what, ten years of peace in a country destroyed by war for hundreds of years prior? Only for it to be conquered again?

Who is going to remember the only person Scott truly loved?

Now, for the first time in a very long time, Scott sees just how far ahead the road stretches.

If they defeat Xornoth, he will have to survive hundreds of years without Jimmy. He will have to watch his beloved fade from the memory of mortals, as the world changes and he is alone.

Alinar is always alone in the paintings.

And then, after he dies, there will be nobody to anchor any part of Jimmy to this world.

No one lives forever, but even Jimmy's death will not last.

Scott turns away from the hall of paintings, adjusting the veil covering his face. He needs to plan a memorial worth a place in history.

He leaves Rivendell and sets out for the Ocean Kingdom, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

He can't help but think, in future paintings, he will always be portrayed alone.

-

Scott's shown to a meeting room when he arrives (after he's led to a set of rooms to change from his travel wear and throw some water on his face), and as he waits, examining the carvings on the table, he's reminded of another Ocean Kingdom meeting room, from months and worlds ago, when he had waited half-asleep to request an alliance.

He thinks, maybe, that he was in love with Jimmy, even back then. Back when he knew practically nothing about the man, some part of his soul deep within knew that they belonged together.

Which is a stupid and cheesy thought, as true as it may be. After all, he'd been so worried about Jimmy that he hadn't gotten much sleep in days. What kind of person does that without having feelings attached?

There were so many things to love about Jimmy, too. His sense of humor, the dimple in his cheek, his strong hugs, the kindness in his every action, his perpetually tangled hair, his loud laugh, the soft smiles he reserved for Scott, the feel of his lips. . . .

And he's gone.

And Scott knows that.

And now he has to live with it.

"Hey."

Scott looks up; Lizzie stands in the doorway, dressed in a simple grey dress that hangs off the shoulders. She gives him a small smile but makes no move to join him at the table.

Scott, of course, stands. He inclines his head in a bit of a bow, straightens his crown where it's set carefully over his hood.

"It's good to see you," he says, after what's probably been too long of a time. He waits for Lizzie to step within, but she still lingers.

"I wish they had been under happier circumstances," Lizzie says. "Apologies if I have to be pulled away, my armies are active at the moment."

"All going well?"

"Very," she replies. "As it turns out, it's a little difficult to attack an underwater empire when you can't breathe underwater."

Scott chuckles politely. That makes sense.

They stand in silence for a few more moments before Lizzie sighs.

"Look, Scott," she says. "I don't really want to sit here and talk about my little brother's death. Can we walk?"

Scott hurries to obey, shoving his chair in and tripping over his own robe. Lizzie waits patiently by the door, begins walking as soon as he gets out of the room.

"Not to—not to bring the conversation down—" Scott says, lengthening his stride to keep up (for someone who's only five foot something, Lizzie moves fast), "but . . . isn't that what this meeting is about?"

"Hm?"

"You just said that you don't wish to talk about—about Jimmy," he says, willing his voice not to crack. "But—"

"Joel actually offered to take care of it," Lizzie says. She halts, turns to look out the large windows of the passageway they've been walking down.

Scott stops beside her. They're in an underwater portion of the palace, and out the window is the sea.

A school of fish swim by, right beside the window, beyond them the clear blues of a sun-filtered ocean. Scott watches the waves on the surface (they're only just below) lap back and forth, adding a gentle sway to the floating bits of seaweed and the little bubbles.

"Mezeleans do a three day mourning period," Lizzie says after a moment. "Joel felt bad. He wanted to do more. So he asked if he could plan the service, since he doesn't have a forty day mourning period like us."

Scott blinks. "Sorry, forty days?"

"Yes," says Lizzie. She turns to Scott. "Is yours different?"

Forty days doesn't feel near long enough. That means Lizzie has only—what, three more weeks of mourning? And then she has to go on with her life, as if Jimmy never existed?

"For a betrothed, the elven tradition is one year," Scott tells her, watching her face for a reaction.

Her eyebrows raise, her eyes flick over to his veil before turning back to the sea.

"The court made its decision, then."

Scott nods.

They stand there, silent, staring out the window.

"I can't even imagine a year," Lizzie says at the same time as Scott says, "Only forty days?"

Scott mutters an apology. Lizzie shrugs.

"It gives us enough time to remember the dead, then go on to celebrate their life," she says. "Not long enough that we dwell, but long enough that we honor them. The grief is too heavy to carry it for so long. How can you even survive a year of it?"

"We lead a long life," says Scott. "Most elves live to be a thousand years old. A year isn't so long a time in the grand turning of our lives—can we not give it up for our loved ones?"

That's what he's been taught, at least. Standing here at the beginning of it, a year feels like an awfully long period of time.

He can see the appeal of forty days, even if he can't even imagine it. And worse, Joel—three days. As much time as he spent sequestered in Gem's secret library. That was the entire length of Joel's mourning period.

And suddenly, Scott remembers something that he's been carrying around for the past two weeks.

"I have something for you," he says, reaching for his shoulder bag. Right, he'd left it in the set of rooms that he'd freshened up in— "I found it at Crystal Cliffs—"

"I have something for you, too," Lizzie interrupts. "I thought it looked kind of elvish, but I wasn't sure—"

"Can we stop by my rooms, and I can get it?"

Lizzie nods. "Yours is in the Grotto, we can go on the way—"

And with that, she's off at almost a run, back down the way they came.

Scott follows, robes billowing around him, each step a hard slap against the prismarine floor, as compared to Lizzie's almost silent feet. She stops at the set of guest rooms that Scott had been led to earlier, and he grabs his satchel off the hook just inside the door before she takes off again, to the end of the hall, and down down down a long spiral staircase.

Scott follows, legs beginning to burn. In Rivendell, he usually just glides down cliffs or long staircases. He isn't used to the tight spirals here, no room to spread his wings to their full length.

They go down at least five levels. Scott doesn't really like being underground—even Gem's hidden library had been a little too close for comfort—but he swallows back his discomfort and follows, as Lizzie leads him through a dimly lit hallway and then into a dark, smooth tunnel, walls a beautiful deep blue.

The tunnel's made of glass, he realizes about halfway down, after trying to figure out what material could have been used to create such a mesmerizing blue-ish darkness. It's glass, and through the other side is the depths of the ocean.

As impressive as it is, Scott's not sure he likes that. Water all around him, ready to flood in if the glass breaks under all the pressure? Doesn't really sound like his idea of fun. He can't exactly swim all that well—his feathers get waterlogged instantly and he tends to sink fairly quickly. He found that out when he was around sixty-five or seventy, and Xornoth tried to drown him. Good times.

But he follows Lizzie through the tunnel, trusting that she wouldn't take him down any path likely to break. And trusting a bit more, perhaps, in her ability to save him if he does end up drowning.

Then Scott steps into the room at the end of the tunnel, and feels his eyebrows practically hit his hairline.

This is beautiful.

A cave, small but open, lit by lanterns hanging from the craggly ceiling, lined with shelves and stools chiseled out of stone. The cave sparkles, as if the rock that forms it is actually crystal, or rather, that little specks of gold are woven in so well with the stone that the sparkle has become indiscernible from the rock.

The shelves carved into the rock hold all manners of preciosities, from ancient crowns to sparkling jewels to seemingly ordinary items that glow with a magical sheen. Fishnets hang from the cave wall, and from those fishnets hang exceedingly fine pieces of armor and clothing, some so bright they seem to be a patch of starlight, others made of materials that look like they oughtn't be clothes (is that a dress made of driftwood?). Scott sees a tiara made entirely out of sapphires wired together, a pair of gloves sewn of what appears to be a spider's string, a bundle of bejeweled fish hooks, and a clearly enchanted scepter made of glass all on the first shelf, but Lizzie bypasses all of these things without even a second glance and leads the way to the left side of the cave, where she draws back one of the nets.

She turns after a moment, raises an eyebrow to see Scott still standing in the entryway.

"Right, you've never been down here," she says after a moment of staring at each other. "Welcome to the Grotto, home of the Ocean Kingdom's treasures! Ignore them, though. This is for you, over here."

Scott's kind of afraid that he'll knock something over, considering the fragile items on the shelves and stone stools and the size of his wings. But he inches his way through anyhow, keeping an eye on his every side. His thumb runs along the stitches of the cod on his satchel as he steps sideways around a glowing red rock on a pedestal, each movement careful until he reaches Lizzie.

She's holding back the net on this part of the wall to reveal behind it a little alcove, which begs the question of other alcoves all through this room, hiding who knows what. Scott steps forward, peers within.

Inside this little stone alcove is a pair of soft, blue leather boots, tall and folded over on themselves, the laces a faded white. A script that he instantly recognizes as Old Elvish (a bit of a shock to find here, surrounded by so many unfamiliarities) is pressed into the leather, trailing around the foot and up the back of the boots.

They almost seem to glow.

Scott feels something heavy in his chest, as if his breath has weighed all the way down to his stomach.

They feel . . . powerful. Magical.

Gingerly, Scott picks them up (something ancient pulses out through his fingers as they wrap around the soft leather), turns them over to look at the soles. He's not sure what he expects to find—a label? A size?—but the sole is blank, just barely scuffed from wear.

They haven't been used much, then. Barely-worn.

These boots are the other artifact. Scott's sure of it.

He doesn't know how, or why, but he knows.

He's holding boots that Alinar himself wore. Alinar wore these to face off Exor's Champion.

Was Alinar afraid? Did he stand there, palms sweating, feet flexing in these very boots, just gathering the courage to attack?

Did he think he would survive? Did he doubt himself?

Thoughts that Scott's never had before just push into his mind. In the stories, Alinar is always calm in battle, assured in his power, wise in his rulings.

But now that Scott is almost literally in his shoes, he can't help but wonder if Alinar ever felt the doubts he's feeling. If Alinar felt the pain of his losses so profoundly that he wasn't sure he could go on. If Alinar was scared his plans wouldn't work and he would lose the war, lose everything. If Alinar ever was tired of the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

"They felt powerful," Lizzie says. Scott starts—he had forgotten she was there.

She's right. They are powerful, even if he doesn't understand how yet.

"I think," he says, putting his thoughts behind him, "that these are very important."

He doesn't say anything else about them. He doesn't say that he thinks they might end the war. He doesn't say that he thinks this is it, he thinks he has both the artifacts now and that means it's time to take down Xornoth.

Instead, he asks, still somewhat in awe, "Where did you find them?"

Lizzie shrugs. "Well, you know the Mezelean mourning period?" she says. "Three days of total isolation. We thought it was best, since I am the queen consort of Mezelea, that I participate in it as well. So those three days I spent down here, cataloguing the treasures. I don't know what many of them are, after all. I found those right there in the wall. When I tried to touch them, they . . . they burned me."

Scott looks at the boots in his hands, then back at Lizzie. "And you didn't warn me?" he says incredulously.

Lizzie seems unrepentant. "I figured you knew what you were doing."

"What I'm hearing is that you were going to let me get burned."

"That doesn't matter. So—what do they mean?"

They could mean everything.

Scott just shrugs, though, and shifts them to one arm so he can reach into his satchel with the other.

From his satchel, he pulls the ancient book he'd found, with the unfamiliar writings and the little bag hanging from the spine.

(Unnoticed, the smaller book that was tucked inside slips from between the pages of the book, falling deeper into Scott's shoulder bag.)

"Gem found a secret library," he explains, handing Lizzie the book. "We thought this looked kind of Oceanic. Can you read it?"

Lizzie takes it from his hands carefully, studies the cover.

She goes entirely still.

"What is it?" Scott prods.

She doesn't respond. She doesn't even seem to hear him, eyes scanning the cover of the book. Trance-like, she reaches for the little drawstring bag, squeezes it gently in her palm.

Before Scott can repeat his question, Lizzie turns to the stool beside her, sweeps off the glowing wooden staff resting there without a second thought. Scott hops back as the staff clatters against the stone ground, shooting sparks from both ends.

She lays the book on the stool, but doesn't flip it open. Instead, she picks up the pouch, hanging by the cord, and pulls it open. She peers inside, then tips the pouch over onto the stool.

"What is that?"

"I . . . have no idea," Lizzie says.

The 'that' in question is some kind of ball, a little wobbly like jelly, blue and flecked with gold and green. It's not quite round, parts of it sprouting with something like seaweed, little leaves poking out in a couple of different places.

It looks gross, if Scott's being honest with himself. He can just imagine the way it feels, squishy and weirdly sticky but not and—urgh, he never wants to touch it ever. It definitely is the kind of thing that would make all of his hairs stand on end and shivers run up his spine. He wants to gag just thinking about it.

"I wonder how long that's been in there," Lizzie whispers, sounding almost awestruck.

"Well, Gem's library hasn't been touched in hundreds of years, probably," Scott says. "So a while."

"Do you think it's crunchy?"

"Why would it be crunchy?"

"Parts of it look like seaglass." Lizzie, daringly, pokes the ball. It jiggles.

"Why would you touch it?" hisses Scott, just barely suppressing his gag reflex. "Great, now you probably have diseases."

"Say I were to take a bite out of it."

"Do not take a bite out of it."

"I'm not going to! But say I were. Would it be slimy, or chewy? Or crunchy."

"It doesn't matter, because you aren't going to eat it."

"Don't tell me what to do, Smajor."

"Oh, for Aeor's—" Scott cuts off the curse with a little sound—not a scream, or a screech, nothing undignified like that would ever leave his mouth—of fright as the staff on the floor shoots out sparks again, almost seeming to aim for him.

"Your god is mad at you for invoking his name to stop me from eating the thing," Lizzie says somberly. "He wants me to eat the thing."

Scott puts his hands in the air, still holding the boots. He shouldn't try to argue, it'll only make her more set in her ways. "Look, when you die after eating it—because that thing absolutely will kill you, look at it—tell Jimmy that I tried to stop you, and you made the choice yourself."

Lizzie lets out a snort of laughter, something that both relieves Scott (it was an okay joke to make, they're both starting to heal) and scares him (he just mentioned Jimmy and he isn't crying, he made a joke about his dead fiance, it should hurt more than it does).

"Of course. Any other messages to pass along before I experience this delightful new fruit?"

So, so many things. He oughtn't take this seriously, really—they're just kidding around, Lizzie isn't actually going to eat that thing.

"Just tell him I love him," he says, going for a light tone. It falls flat, sad, and Lizzie just looks awkwardly at her feet.

"If I could've changed anything, I would have," she says after a moment. "That warning message you sent? Hours after I got it, we received word from the Cod Empire that the attack had begun. I can't help but feel . . . maybe I should've gone to check on him. Called him to the Ocean for some reason. But . . . . maybe that wouldn't have really made anything better, would it?"

Scott opens his mouth to protest—Jimmy being alive would make things quite a bit better, in his opinion—but Lizzie continues.

"You haven't been there, Scott," she says mournfully. "The Codlands. It's . . . it's bad. And whether Jimmy was there or not, they would've been conquered. At least, with Jimmy's death, they feel like they have a purpose to keep fighting. Keep going. They think if they annoy Sausage badly enough, he'll just give up on them. If Jimmy was here right now, I don't think they'd have the motivation. So if anything good comes of Jimmy's death . . . I hope it's that."

Possibly the most bleak and depressing thing Scott's ever heard Lizzie say, and it absolutely makes him want to cry.

He's not going to cry, though. Despite the fact that Lizzie said the words Jimmy's death twice just then, and said that maybe good would come of it, Scott isn't going to cry.

Instead, he hefts the boots in his arms, and Lizzie, still looking away, picks up the book again and loops the cord hanging from the spine around her fingers.

"You have the boots," she says, voice a bit thick. "I have the book. Sounds like a deal. Want to shake on it?"

Scott does his best to smile. "Of course," he says, shifting the boots more to his left arm and extending his right.

Lizzie's hand meets his, cool and soft, his thumb brushing against a scale on her knuckle.

Maybe it's his imagination, but as his hand grips hers, something sparks up his arm.

Something electric courses up through his veins, up his arm and through his shoulder into his throat and down to his toes, and Scott doesn't move, frozen by the feeling, but Lizzie's hand jerks a little and he looks up to see her wide-eyed, a frown creasing her brow.

They stand there, hand in hand, unmoving.

All is silent.

"That felt important," Lizzie says in a hushed tone.

"That was some sort of deal with destiny," Scott agrees, looking down at the boots in his grasp, the book in Lizzie's.

These are both something very, very crucial.

And now to get to work.

-

He isn't able to get straight to work, though, only managing to find two books on artifacts and their qualities before he receives a summons to Jimmy's memorial service.

It's held at the Overgrown, and Scott arrives in his best mourning vestments, the Cod-made bag on his shoulder. Ilphas accompanies him, along with three guards.

Lizzie is seated beside him, at the front, hair braided behind her and dress long and layered, gently melding from light grey at the top to black at the hem. Joel sits behind the pulpit, anxiously shuffling papers for the eulogy, dressed normally but for the black sash across his purple coat. Katherine is across the aisle, her normal lavender dress replaced by a blue floral-patterned one, flowers weaved into her hair.

Shelby takes her seat behind Scott, a handkerchief clutched in her hand, dressed in a brown three-piece suit. Gem sits beside her, squeezing Scott's shoulder briefly, wearing her normal but in black.

Pearl finds a place behind Katherine, wearing a sunny yellow shirt under a grey dress, her sunflower crown sparkling on her head. The place beside her, reserved for Pix, remains empty.

The next three rows seat their various guards and advisors, one row left open for the three leaders that had to be invited, but know better than to show up. Scott won't hesitate to kill a man at his fiance's funeral, and he imagines that there would be a bit of a line behind him to pummel the dead bodies.

And behind them, the chapel is full of various minor royals that had been able to make the trip. Scott recognizes several elves, a Mezelean duke, and a representative from the Grimlands who seems very uncomfortable beside the fae that he's seated between.

There are also, to his surprise, near the back of the seats, a handful of Cod people, their finest clothes shabby and their heads bowed.

Scott turns back around in his seat when he catches Ilphas glaring at him. It isn't proper to be peering over his shoulder at all those who file in. He's a king, his job is to look kingly.

So he stares, blankly (hoping he looks at least somewhat enigmatic), at the pulpit.

And the service . . . the service is nice. Joel gives a nice eulogy, and Katherine says a couple of words, and about halfway through the service, the group of Cod refugees perform a traditional Cod song of farewell, which absolutely brings tears to Scott's eyes.

But it doesn't really feel like Jimmy. Jimmy was awkward, and hotheaded, and loud, and funny, and full of so much love. And even though Joel calls him an idiot three separate times during the eulogy, Scott just feels like the whole ceremony is too stiff and polite for it to be right.

And then Lizzie stands up, and makes her way to the pulpit for her closing remarks.

She gazes out among the people, chin held high and eyes solemn. When she speaks, her voice carries all the way to the back of the airy chapel.

"I knew the Codfather better than anyone," she starts, regal and measured. "I knew his character, his dreams, all his likes and his dislikes—or, most of them. Some of them I had no interest in knowing, but I'm sure Lord Smajor can tell you all about them."

A light chuckle ripples through the crowd. Scott feels his cheeks go just a tad bit paler. Lizzie catches his eye to give him a bit of a smile before turning back out to the congregation.

"I knew Jimmy," she continues. "And I know that my brother would never run from a fight. He was brave, and stubborn, and maybe a little stupid—which I can say, because he was my little brother. It was that bravery, that stubbornness—that loyalty that he had, that kept him from backing down. Even at his last moment."

She pauses, eyes on the back of the crowd. "Jimmy fought until the very end," she says, the words strong. "Even as the sword of a Mythland soldier drove past his armor, he fought. Even as his lifeblood spilled from him, he fought. Even as he fell to his knees, he fought."

Her voice is shaking suddenly, not with grief, not with anxiety, but with anger—hot, radiating anger. And Scott's face is wet, the veil sticking to his cheeks, a lump in his throat that he keeps trying to swallow away; he'd made it this far without crying but he hadn't heard those details and he can't control the tears.

Where did Lizzie get details about Jimmy's death?

"My brother fought for your freedom, and died for your freedom," declares Lizzie fiercely, tears sparkling in her eyes. "I would therefore urge you to defend your people, your country, and fight back against the evil of this demon! Don't let Jimmy's death be in vain. His people are currently in the captivity of Mythland, subjected to poverty and brutality, and if there is anything that we can do to keep the memory of the Codfather alive it is fight. Fight for their freedom, for your freedom, and for the eternal freedom of all who have already lost their lives in this war. Fight for Jimmy."

And on that dramatic note, she steps away and sits down. Scott can feel (not quite hear, more the sight of her shoulders shaking in his peripheral) her breathing heavily beside him, somehow managing to sound angry without even making a noise.

Silence.

Not a member of the crowd so much as coughs.

After a long moment, Joel stands again, steps up to the podium.

Scott expects him to be anxious, awkward. He can't well look around behind him, but he can imagine that quite a few of both Katherine's and Pearl's people would be unhappy with that speech, as both empires have currently declared neutrality in the conflict. He expects Joel to make some sort of vague statement about how everyone is doing their part, and maybe remark on how bold Lizzie's words had been with a nervous little laugh.

Joel doesn't do that, though. Joel levels his steely gaze at the crowd and says, words precise and cut-off, "Thank you for your words, your majesty. I'm sure that we will all find them enlightening and instructive."

Joel's mad, then. Scott's seen Joel's performance anger, his blustering and shouting and shaking of his head. He's never seen this frigidity, so perfectly the opposite of Lizzie just moments ago.

He's a little bit glad he turned down Joel's invitation to speak. He doesn't know how he would have competed with the two of them.

"Thank you to all who attended, especially those refugees from the Codlands. Our hearts and swords are with you in this time of loss."

Joel takes another moment just to look out over everyone, face stony, eyes cold. He nods sharply.

"Have a good evening."

Nobody moves. Scott resists the very strong urge to glance around.

Then Joel steps away, and Katherine stands up, and there's the great bustle of everyone else standing and whispering and gathering their things.

Scott doesn't get up. Instead, knowing that he's being watched, he turns toward Lizzie and shakes her hand with a small nod.

"How do you know what you said?" he mutters to her.

Lizzie smiles in return, brushing a pink strand of hair that's pulled loose from her braid behind her ear. "Everarda, a Cod refugee in the Ocean Kingdom," she says in a similar tone. "She witnessed it. She only managed to escape last week."

Of course people witnessed Jimmy's death. He doesn't know why he subconsciously assumed that no one had.

Scott can't even imagine watching his fiance die like that. He can't even imagine Jimmy on his knees, pain in every line of his face, soaked in blood, yet still swinging his sword at anyone who comes near, desperate to defend his people even until he eventually collapses.

He can't imagine the hoarse cries tearing from his throat as he's stabbed, the shuddering of his shoulders as he strains to lift his sword, the clanking of his armor as he falls to his knees, the tears in his eyes as he watches his people fall around him.

And Scott definitely can't imagine that maybe, in those last moments, he'd turned his eyes upward and begged for Scott, searching the skies for his first and final hope.

"Scott," Lizzie murmurs, a note of warning in her voice.

Scott blinks, and a tear falls from his lashes. Not good. He's meant to be stoic and unfeeling and respectable, and this is the second time he's cried in public in the past hour. In the past ten minutes, even.

People are watching. Ilphas is probably going to kill him. Kings aren't supposed to cry, they aren't supposed to actually have feelings.

Hopefully it isn't too noticeable. He has his veil, after all, but his eyes do get uncommonly red when he cries. Anyone could easily see the way his eyes scrunch as he wills himself not to cry, the tears, the splotchy redness, the way his shoulders tremble just the slightest bit.

"Have you heard from Pix lately?" Lizzie says suddenly, staring past Scott to Pix's empty seat. "He was one of Jimmy's closest friends. He should have been here."

Scott doesn't know. He hasn't seen Pix since the End.

He doesn't think about it for long.

He sits there, and thinks about nothing, particularly not Jimmy, until it's time for him to leave.

And when he gets home, he dives right back into his books.

Two days later finds him alone, in his study, head achy from crying, angry at the fruitless searches and his own inaction.

And Scott's done waiting. He's done researching, done preparing. Lizzie's speech hit a chord near his heart.

If the fight won't come to him, he'll bring the fight to Xornoth.

Scott reaches into his satchel, hanging from his chair, and grabs the boots.

[advancement-made]

U gud bro

I'm extremely depressed and slightly anxious, so no. Thanks for asking. 👍

[housecow]

i WISH t shirts looked like this when they’re tight but i gotta hold them to make that happen. anyways, another before n after :3

[eldrichfuck666]

you're faithless, for you pitched me against your holy father and it seems that I am winning

[nemotakeit]

i remember the first time ever i listened to SO i was like pfft rap? get out. (i was cringe) and then when i gave it a listen again a few months later i was a changed person... so i binge listened to their entire discography immediately and was genuinely shocked because how could ALL of their songs be bangers, like i couldn't believe it was possible it was surreal........ i wish i could turn back time (lol) to experience that pure shock again

[sheryl-lee]

i was away from tumblr for like only a week and i missed it so much 🥺 i hate this website but not nearly as much as i love it (and the very lovely humans on it 🫶)

[seddair]

.

[sennqu]

ohhhhh i am so excited!! now if only they can just LET ME PRE-ORDER THE SONG

[dawntheduckrb]

Low resolution borb chilling on the curb

[thetomorrowshow]

cold, empty, lonely

have a short little fic about death and disconnection :)

cw: canonical character death, description of dead body

~

He finds her body on the side of the hill, crumpled upon itself, red hair dulled against the cold, yellow grass.

Bdubs doesn't touch her, at first. He just watches, waits for some kind of movement.

In the weak light of the moon, the chill wind that blows almost makes it look like her chest is slowly rising and falling. Her hair flicks up a bit, blown like the grass around, and her clothes shift a little, and if Bdubs squints his eyes almost shut and stares at one spot long enough, he could swear that she was just sleeping.

They aren't actually breathing, though. And when he opens his eyes wide, lashes not blurring his vision, he can see again the red that shines against her grey shirt.

They had brought him her armor. It was cheap stuff, iron, held together by whatever leftover straps she'd been able to scrounge up after her good set of armor had been claimed as loot by the Red Army. They hadn't wanted the new set, and had brought it, bloodstained, as proof of their conquest.

Bdubs had pleaded with them for what felt like hours for the location of her body.

He needn't have. He could have looked out a back window and seen it, if he hadn't been so distracted with everything going on.

Their body lies just above the little river that feeds into the Crastle's moat. The river has begun to freeze at the edges, little broken-off sheets of ice forming from the rocky shore, frost touching the red-spattered stones and pebbles. And their body is just beyond that, where the stones and grey dirt turn to dying grass and bare shrubs as the slope climbs upward into a squat hill, alone in the darkness of the night.

He stands there, at a distance, watching their body for probably ten minutes.

Her body looks so lonely.

Cold. Empty.

Lonely.

Bdubs sighs (his breath puffs out in a mist before him—winter really is coming, isn't it?) before crossing the distance between them, crouching down beside the body.

Their flower crown—the one that Bdubs had collected the flowers for—has come apart, a crushed halo of daisies, partially obscured by their hair, a petal weaved in here and there.

Her hair is long, tangled, spilling out around her head like the rays from the sun, curling around her throat and caught under her body.

With a gentle touch, Bdubs brushes their hair away from their grey lips, where some strands have stuck.

Her cheeks are almost colorless, the few stubborn freckles faded. Their lashes are long, soft, forehead unwrinkled and face expressionless.

There's no twist of her mouth, no scrunch of their eyes, no desperation in their brows to denounce pain. There's nothing else, either, though—no peaceful relaxation, no joyful grin, no angry glower.

She's simply blank. It's as if she never lived, never felt.

Her face is cold. Empty. Lonely.

There's still sticky blood on her shirt, her chest slick with it, the ground stained. A lucky stab, straight to the heart. A cleaving of lifeless flesh, right through their chest, somehow missing the bone frame that once held the body together.

Bdubs pulls her shirt a little bit, rearranging it to cover the ugly, open wound. He's not quite sure why he does it. He'll just bury her, anyways.

But he does. He touches the shirt, stiff and sticky with blood, and tugs it over the wound. He pulls more of her hair away, where it's become plastered to her body with blood. He arranges her body so that it isn't half curled on its side, but fully on its back.

They look almost as they always did. Just missing everything that made her alive.

She wasn't supposed to die first. It was always supposed to be him, everyone knew it. Not her.

They probably worked so well together because of how reasonable she was. Bdubs doesn't like being reasonable, likes to kill first and ask questions later—or, if he feels like it, let them sell him a coffin first and ask questions later. She preferred to observe, keep track of enemies and allies, sneak around quietly behind the scenes and make chaos of her own kind.

Which is why Bdubs should have died first. He's so publicly provocative of the Reds, so eager to spill blood.

If anything, she was fairly peaceful. Not genuinely, but she always chose to take a step back from conflict and find a way to profit from it.

It was their Red blood that got to them, Bdubs thinks idly. They hadn't been Red for long enough to let the bloodlust acclimate, and had just gone on the hunt rather than let it simmer.

And now they're dead.

He needs to bury the body. Preferably now, when it's night yet and the battles haven't resumed.

He doesn't wait any longer.

He gets to work, picking up the shovel that he'd brought with him and stabbing it into the earth. Again. Again. Again.

The rough wood of the handle pokes into his palms, but he doesn't stop. The pain reminds him that he needs to keep going.

Every so often he pauses, wipes the sweat off his forehead, looks over at the body.

Then he keeps shoveling.

The world has lightened by the time he finishes, bathing the hill in grey. Bdubs shakes some clumps of dirt off his shovel, whacking it against the ground a couple of times.

Without further ado, he hops out of the shabby hole he's dug and tosses the shovel to the side. He gets on his knees, back creaking, and looks down at his hands.

He should wash them before he touches her, probably. Dirt is packed into every crease of his palm, his nails torn and muddy, grit between his fingers. A couple of splinters sticking out of his skin here and there.

Not that there's any point to washing them. Dirt goes to dirt and whatnot.

So, gently, Bdubs gathers up the body in his arms. He slowly turns, scooting a little on his knees, until he's facing the shallow grave.

Bdubs sets the body down, carefully, supporting the neck so their head doesn't loll. He moves their arms over their body, one limp hand placed over the other.

They wouldn't have liked this. They didn't like being touched.

He doesn't touch her any more, then.

Bdubs grasps the first handful of dirt, holds his closed fist over the grave. A couple of grains of dirt spill out, running down her shirt.

He holds it there, for longer than he should. Long enough that his arm grows weary. Long enough that somewhere, a bird starts chirping its wake-up call.

He needs to let go.

Probably, the worst part of all this is that he's doing it alone, he thinks absently. It's always been the two of them.

And there are others who could be here. Other friends. Other allies. Enemies, even. He shouldn't be alone in this. He shouldn't have to bury her alone.

It still looks like her.

He drops the dirt. It lands on her face, on her grey lips, on her bloodless cheeks.

Then he picks his shovel back up and gets to work, heaving load after load of dirt back into the grave.

And when Bdubs returns in the windy morning, the impromptu occupants that he'd left in the Crastle the previous night are all gone. It's just him, in a small castle that used to belong to two.

And Bdubs is cold.

Empty.

Lonely.

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

[evan4ever]

could you write some smut ab evan being jealous?

I Don’t Share

Evan Peters

TW smut smut smut. Pretty dirty. 18+

Let’s just pretend I didn’t just take a 4 month hiatus 🫣. Anyways😅 enjoy! Didn’t proofread btw!

—

“Are you always this funny?!” Finn (Wittrock) laughed along side of you, his hands on either side of his head as if you blew his mind. Your own loud laughter filled the dressing room, your head nodding to his question in confidence.

“I…” you start, struggling to catch your breath, “I am, in fact. I find myself to be quite the comedian!” Your laughter simmers to a quieter giggle, your eyes still looking at him confidently. He nods along, agreeing with your statement.

“I believe it! I can’t believe I haven’t sat and visited with you like this before. You really help lighten the mood and take some pressure off.” You smile at his light praise, not thinking anymore into it other than a new friend who happened to find you as funny as you like to think yourself to be.

“I try to stand back and not get in the way. I really enjoy watching Evan in his element. Meeting all of you happens to be a great plus.” You shrug lightly, nonchalantly.

“You’re something else. God, a mood, really! I’m glad I had the chance to finally have a real conversation to you. And not disappointed in the least!” He nudges your arm lightly with his as another string of giggles leaves both of your mouthes.

“I’m glad I could be at your service!” You joke, lifting your chin proudly.

As your conversation with Finn continues over the next hour, Evan frowns in the middle of his scene once again, overhearing it from the distance, causing the scene to be cut.

“Peters?!” The director yells in question. “The hell is your problem? Stay in character, this is the FOURTH time we’ve had to cut a scene for godsake!” Everyone glanced at Evan curiously, though he just lets out a deep breath and nods. “Right. Let’s take a break people!”

Everyone begins filing out for their short break. Even stands watching everyone while his ears zone in on the sounds of yours and Finn’s laughter still filling the whole building. He has no reason to be jealous, he wholeheartedly trusts you, but that pit of burning rage in his stomach can’t be helped. Usually, you’re out here, watching him, laughing with him. Usually, he gets to admire the beautiful sound of your giggles and the stunning sight of your smile. But today, you’re out of his sight, laughing with someone else, someone else admiring you the way he does. And it just doesn’t help that it’s a great coworker of his.

Finally, Evan peels himself from his spot in the middle of the set up and makes his way to the dressing room. The laughter between you and Finn loudens and the jealousy within Evan grows.

Before he marches into the dressing room, Evan manages to stop himself at the door and gather himself enough to make it less noticeable that he’s jealous. He clears his throat and knocks at the door before opening and walking in. Unfortunately, the sigh of you on the couch with Finn next to you, practically on and drooling over you, only furthers his jealously.

“Hey babe!” You grin at Evan, whose eyes are only on Finn. He quickly shoots you a smile before dropping it and clearing his throat, again.

“Hey, y/n, can I steal you for a minute? Got something to show you.” His smiles lessens to a tight lipped grin, and you quickly realize something is off with him. Your once giggling self now serious. You nod to Evan before looking over to Finn who gives you a knowing smile and nod.

Pushing yourself from the couch, you make your way to Evan who guides you past him and out the door, closing it behind him.

“Is everything oka-“

Your quickly cut off by Evan pulling you into a dark room, shutting the door and locking the two of you inside.

You stand in the middle of the small room, the smell of bleach and other cleaning products suggesting it’s the janitors closet, staring at Evan with confusion, what you can see of him on the dark anyways.

“What is up with you?” Your demeanor changes as you cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side with an annoyed look on your face.

All you can make out of him is his body standing before you, still. Until his arms moves behind his head and the sound of scratching suggests he is, awkwardly, itching the back oh his head.

“Evan, seriously, what’s your-“

“Finn.” He interrupts you. You raise your eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What about Finn-“

“He was flirting with you!” Evan barks loudly. Taken back, you drop your arms to your side and squint at him trying to see him better but to no avail.

“Jesus, is there not a light in here?!” You huff, turning and moving your hands all over the wall feeling for a light switch. You weren’t trying to divert the statement, but you just didn’t realize that’s what was happening, if it really was.

Through your quick hand movements against the wall, you suddenly feel Evans body move closer to yours, till he was practically against you. Your hands again drop to their sides as you stare into the darkness where Evan is. You can feel the tension, so thick you could cut it with a knife, but fuck was it turning you on. You could hear his deep breaths mixed with yours, feel the heat radiating from his body onto yours, you wanted nothing more than to fall into his lips but it was like you were paralyzed, wondering what was going through his mind.

Your body jolts slightly in surprise as the light suddenly turns on, looking above you and seeing Evans hand releasing the long beaded rope to the single lightbulb on the ceiling. A half chuckle escapes from your lips nervously as you look back to Evan, his dark eyes already peering into you, making the wind feel as if it’s knocked from your lungs.

Not often do you see this side of Evan. He’s a kind, gentle man. Even in bed. If you want it rough, you have to practically beg him because he just isn’t. It isn’t in him, despite what’s seen on TV. He’s an actor, after all. So to see him now, looking so dark and almost cold — it’s different. But damn, does it turn you on like nothing else.

You clear your throat as you attempt to stare him back down, but failing miserably.

“I didn’t know he was flirting with me, Evan.” You glance back to his unfaltering stare before looking away. “Really. He sat down and we just started visiting. I cracked a few jokes because the entire cast seemed on edge. It lightened the mood. That’s all it was to me. If it was more to him, I had no idea.” You explain in all honesty. It was a good time laughing with Finn, but you never looked at it more than a friend and a friend having a good time with a few good laughs.

But Evan didn’t find it funny. And he knows your part is truth, but it doesn’t stop the jealousy on the other end.

You are his, and his only.

After a few more awkward seconds of silence, you groan, shifting from one foot to the other. “Evan, seriously!” You whisper/yell, now finally looking into his eyes as he was yours, but within the second, Evan had you pinned against the closet wall. It had taken you by surprise, a breath drawn in and being held as you piece together what had just happened.

His face was so close to yours now, and all you could do was stare at his perfect, pink lips.

“I don’t share.” Your eyes flicker up to his in surprise at his words. Your lips part to say something but before you had a chance, his own lips crash onto them in a deep, passionate, open-mouthed kiss.

You melt into him, his arms holding you up by your waist now, until you find the strength to slide your arms up his biceps and onto either side of his face pulling him to you more if it were even possible. He allows you to hold onto him, pull on him, whatever it was you wanted to do he’d let you, because he was just as much yours as you were his.

Finally pulling away for some air, he looks back down at you noticing your now perfectly swollen pink lips, a half smile appearing on his own with pride. “I don’t share.” He repeats.

You gaze up at him in awe, a complete desperate mess against his body.

You nod slowly. “I don’t want you to.”

Evan let’s out a deep throaty sigh, quickly grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it up with your sports bra, your arms raising to allow them to slide off you with ease, his hands immediately returning to your waist and gripping it so tightly it almost hurt, and pulling you back into a kiss.

Your hands quickly slide down his body and find the buttons of his jeans, fumbling with in an attempt to get them off him. His hands meet yours as he helps in undoing them and pulling them down enough to give him some freedom before moving to your athletic leggings. His fingers hoop underneath and slide them down your legs, wriggling yourself out of them as well and leaving you bare.

Without hesitation, Evans hand scoop you up from under your thighs and rest you against his waist, the wall helping hold you as well as your legs that wrap around him. His lips quickly meet your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down to your collar bone.

“I would’ve liked your shirt off..” you hum, your head falling against the wall as you take pleasure in the feeling his lips have against your cold skin. You hear a chuckle from him, smiling slightly at knowing he was feeling less tense about the situation.

Evans head lifts and his eyes meet yours again. He takes a moment to gaze at you, taking in your beauty and rejoicing in the feeling of knowing you felt the same, regardless of the jealousy he had previously endured. His hands lifts from your waist and soothes some stray hairs that had fallen onto your face back before letting it rest gently against your head.

“I love you.” He hums, his thumb caressing over your cheek one onto your temple. You breathe in, enjoying this moment while it lasts, before pulling his face back to yours into soft kiss.

But as quick as the moment came, it went, feeling the kiss deepen into more passion and hunger for each other. Evans hands find your own that we’re holding his face, taking them in his and guiding them against the wall. He slides them up until they’re completely above you both, taking them into one of his hands easily and pressing them hard against it now so you had no chance of moving them.

He parts from you just enough to see what he was doing, your eyes watching his every move carefully and excitedly. He grabs ahold of his erection that had been pressing against your thigh this entire time and strokes it, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling and only turning you on further. It almost hurt how badly your pussy was aching to feel him inside of you.

He finally guides his dick to your entrance, lining it up perfectly and allowing himself to slide into it with ease. Your mouth parts as you moan in unison with him, your head falling back against the wall.

“Fuck…” he hums, “you’re so wet. All for me?” He glances up at you, still in excitement, and you nod quickly, almost aggressively, just ready for him to fuck you.

“Yes, yes” you whimper, attempting to rock your hips for some kind of friction to ease the ache that was still there. “Fuck, please Evan..” you open your eyes and meet his with a desperate pout. Evan grins, his eyebrows raising playfully.

“Please, what?”

You groan quietly. It’s so rare that he makes you beg for him to fuck you, but it was so goddamn hot when he does.

“Please.. please fuck me.” You beg, squeezing your eyes shut as your hips continue their attempt to rock against him for some relief.

“Tell me your mine.” He demands as he pulls out slightly. “Tell me how you only want me to fuck you, that you want Finn to watch so he knows you belong to me.” He’s now almost pulled from you completely, leaving behind a worsening ache and throb in your pussy.

“Fuck Evan! I’m yours! I’m only yours” you take a deep breath trying to control your uneven breathing and trembling, “I want Finn to watch you fuck me so good that he never wants to look at me again” you whine, fulfilling his wishes. You gasp loudly as he thrusts back into you hard, pulling out immediately after.

“Keep going.”

You meet his eyes, surprised with the complete dominance he’s taken right now. And you were happily going to oblige.

“I want Finn to see your cock fucking my dripping cunt so he knows just how wet you make me..” Evan slams himself back into you causing another moan to escape, “I want him to know just how good you make me feel, I want him to know that no one else can fuck me like you do.”

Evan repeats his thrust into you, speeding up with every word that leaves your tongue. His grip on your wrists tighten so much that it’s sure to leave a few marks, but the pain is nonexistent as you disappear into the complete ecstasy feeling that overtakes your body.

“Fuck, yes… I want Finn to watch you make me cum all over your dick.” You moan out, the sound of his hips slapping into yours so loud that surely, everyone has to hear it.

Your legs wrap around his waist tighter as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier. His head falls against your chest, his free hand gripping your waist tightly to keep you in place.

“He’ll know only i can fuck you like this..” Evan repeats your words in a deep groan, his teeth taking your delicate skin on your chest between them and nibbling hard, until a dark purple mark is left. “Only I can mark you when and we’re I want.” He moans, kissing the bruise and resting his forehead against you.

“Fuck yes, don’t stop fucking me Evan” you whimper, your fingers attempting to grip onto his that are still holding them. “I want you to make me cum so good that he can hear it from in here.” You beg.

He grins against your skin, releasing your waist and letting his hand find its way between your bodies until it stops on your clit. He quickly starts circling it with his thumb, your mouth parting in a gasp and your body jolting at the new overpowering sensation.

“Oh right there, yes Evan, fuck!” You whimper put more moans, Evan moaning at the beautiful sounds you make and speeding both his thrusts and his thumb up to help you reach your high. “Oh god, I’m gonna cum” you nod to him as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten more and more with every move he makes.

With one final hard thrust, you crumble into him as your orgasm takes over your body, a long string of moans filling the small closet as your high makes Evan reach his, pulling out and stroking his dick to ride his out, his thumb working on your clit to ride yours out.

As your moans quiet, your legs shake as they attempt to keep themselves wrapped around his waist. Evan slowly releases your wrists from above your head and carefully helps you stand, his hands holding your waist again for support as you catch your breath. You lean yourself back into the wall, lazily smiling up at him as you watch him tuck himself back into his boxers and jeans.

He glanced at you as you watch him on awe and shoots you a nearly embarrassed smile before reaching down for your clothing. He hands your shirt and bra to you before bending down and opening one pant leg and letting you hold onto him as you slip your foot into it, then he opens the other pant leg and slides them up onto your waist. You take a moment to put your shirt on, then lean back into the wall as you stare at each other.

“I’m not sure where that came from..”

“It was hot.” You cut him off. He blinks a few times, his cheeks reddening before pulling you to him into a hug. Your arms wrap around him gently but tightly.

“You never have to worry where my head or heart is at Evan,” you reassure him, feeling him nod into the crook of your neck. “There is not one person on this planet that could ever make me want to give you up. You’re all I could ever want.”

You hear him sigh, feeling his body relax more into your hold.

You hug each other for a few more minutes before finally pulling away, meeting the others eyes.

Evan clears his throat and looks around the room. “Um, I’m pretty sure the whole studio heard us so… sorry for what’s to come when he walk out.”

You press your lips together tightly trying to hide the embarrassed smile, but nod firmly and take ahold of his hand in yours.

“We walk out confidently.” You state, glancing up at him as he tries to stifle the laugh, only making you giggle with him.

—

Tags: @evanpetersmood @witchsbitchestime @demxnicprxncess @yes-divine-ruler @shjjpm @evanpsrealwife @iruzias @jangsuzchap @quicksilversg1rl @submissiveforahsmen @angelmenace @lovelizzie-blog1 @justa19 @daylas-life @simp4petermaximoff @totta69

[kanmom51]

This one is kind of personal and a lot mushy

(And as I'm writing this, a bit of a rant as well)

*Be advised.😅

Been a bit.

Well, I was kind of busy. On one of those 'once in a lifetime' trips you take to celebrate a big one, this one being my 30th wedding anniversary.

And while I was on this trip (and I am sure to share some pics, cause why not, seeing we got some spectacular ones) I got to thinking about Jikook. Because, who doesn't think about Jikook on their 30th anniversary trip, right?

Let's be real for a sec. Who doesn't think about Jikook ALL THE DAMN TIME?

Obsessed much?

Hell yeah!!!😂

Proudly admitting it!!

Look at those two:

Can you seriously blame me?

Nah, but seriously.

I couldn't help but think about who I am, where I've come from, how my partner and myself came to be, our love and respect for each other, how we fought through everything life swings at you and how our love not only survived all of it but seems to have flourished even more. I can honestly say that I love my husband today even more than I did when we got married. It's a different kind of love. A mature love. A love that survived many trials and tribulations. Some you know of when you tie the knot but many more you don't expect.

And thinking of us I couldn't help but think about those two young men and how they met, what brought them together, how they connected, how they have been through so much together, the hardships, the struggles, the amazingly good and the terribly bad, all making their bond even stronger.

There are those that cannot fathom how 2 young beautiful talented men could be in a committed relationship when they have this whole smorgasbord of beautiful people just wanting to lay a hand on them. Everyone wants a piece of them and here they are in a committed relationship with each other? A long term committed relationship? How ever could that be?

When you love someone to the core, which is exactly how those two feel (people can deny it all they want, but it won't change the facts, these two have chosen each other every single time over anything and anyone else), when you get to know that one person and fall deeply in love with them, know their ins and outs, know their flaws and issues, seen them at their best and at their worst. When they are happy or sad, healthy or sick, elated or furious, and find them attractive through and through, still want to be by their side.

No.

Need to be by their side.

Want to be there when they are happy, share their joy, but also be there when they are sad or down and stand by their side to support them through it (even with and despite all those flaws and issues and difficulties that at times can also infuriate you and basically make you want to ring their necks at certain points in time) there is no love (between partners) deeper than that.

I do know, we all should, that what they experienced and how they are living cannot be compared to us regular folk. Their circumstances are such that they have to deal not only with an industry and society that deems them as 'wrong' (that includes a big chunk of their own fandom btw), but also a lifestyle that is nothing like the one we know or have experienced. The hours, the cameras in their faces close to 24/7 (up until their break and hiatus and even prior to that during the pandemic - which btw is one of the reasons people have gone mad at that point given we stopped getting an influx of BTS content for such a long time), growing up and maturing in the limelight, enjoying the fame and exposure at first and then fighting for privacy and 'anonymity' when you realize there is a price to that fame. None of us have experienced that. Yes, we can find the similarities and by extension make conclusions about them, but at the same time we always need to remember that their lives are different than ours and that we cannot always hold them to the same standards of behavior that we are used to in our own lives and relationships.

This is beside the point that every relationship is different. I will just say this. A healthy long term relationship is built on 2 or more (I ain't judging) individuals that stand as their own person and chose to be with the other/s. They don't necessary have to have the exact same interests or likes. What they do need is to love, respect, trust each other and understand that part of that is allowing your significant other to do what they love, even if it means doing it without you. Even if it means doing it with someone else. You all know where I'm getting with this right? Going out with others, travelling with others, drinking with others, spending time with others, choosing to spend time alone without your significant other, none of them diminish from your relationship if indeed it's building blocks are solid. And brace yourselves (well, those that are in long term relationships know this already...), but all of the above actually helps maintain your relationship. Can make it better and stronger.

I've been lurking a little on SM, even while away, only to find that once again, or should I say still (surprise surprise... NOT) there are those that are doubting the bond that these two young men have. It's solos and cultists trying to create an alternative universe in which JK and JM are not close and even distanced (some would love for them to actually hate each other - good luck with that psychos). Or it's once again those insecure 'Jikookers' that seem to need that constant affirmation from a real life queer couple that most certainly will not be giving them that. I keep asking myself why is it that a couple like JM and JK need to constantly prove they are together (all while they actually can't come out and say it due to their circumstances - industry and society they live in), when a heterosexual couple, say Zendaya and Tom, for example, are not expected to? How come a blurry clip (which I still say is fake) released at a very suspicious point in time, together with other obviously edited clips and serious claims of misconduct that are clearly made up and were intended to cause JK harm, have more of an impact on them than years and years of interactions, talk, actions (including just before the clip was released and after it as well)? And now another blurry clip that people are going all crazy over. Like seriously, what is wrong with people? Is the lack of content driven them mad? No drama so we need to create it? Well, thing is that when you are in a healthy committed long term relationship there is not much drama. That's the way it is when you are settled and happy and know who you are and who you love and know that they feel the same about you. Arguments, disagreements, bad days - sure. That's life. But at the end of the day if people want drama they should go watch one on TV.

So, how do I put it to make is as clear as possible?

These insecurities we get from some of the fans, they work like clockwork. Every single time, in the past, when we didn't get much from the two there were these whispers and question marks regarding their relationship. Not even if they are still together, but down to the core of their bond, as to even question if they are close or friends. This phenomenon goes way back.

But since end of 2021 beginning of 2022, when they were on their break and later the hiatus into 2023 it blew up like a full on hydrogen bomb.

This got worse after they were assigned their own 'personal' IG accounts and went on their break.

The misconception by many that these accounts were somehow their private accounts that they use to interact with each other, I can't call it anything other than delusional. Sorry not sorry. And if people did not realize that themselves if only from the lack of posting or interaction with whoever, then we had the members themselves telling us that they regularly interact within their own private chat groups. That photos shared on IG with us have been previously shared with the others in those groups. These IG accounts were created to maintain contact between the members and their fans, knowing that the group is going into hiatus and that they will each be promoting their own individual solo projects. Yes, the group Twitter (X) account could be used for that, but there was an attempt to create a more 'personal' connection between each member and Army. These accounts were work, as simple as that, and them reacting to other members or talking with each other through these accounts was not an indication what so ever to whether they were in touch or not otherwise.

At the time, back in early 2022, when people were reeling over the lack of interaction between the two on their IG accounts I tried to explain that a. not seeing something most definitely does not mean it's not there (something those two made sure to prove time and time again over the past couple of years), and b. that the lack of interaction can actually be an indication to them spending most of their time together, as there is no need to comment on another's post when you are right there to tell them whatever it is you want to tell them to their face. Not to mention, and this part is all me, so take or leave it as you will, but some of said IG posts, well, how do I put it? I guess I just say it as it is... some of these photos posted were either taken by the other or they were right there or really near by when it was taken. There. I said it. In any case, the fact that these were the only two not to interact with each other in front of Army's face, out of the whole group, that, to me, meant they were the ones spending most of the time together.

Oh, and let's just address the whole fanservice stupidity surrounding those two once and for all.

If they were all about fanservice, how is it that since that during the break in 2021-2022 and then during the hiatus and their solo endeavors, we were robbed of said fanservice? Wouldn't you expect that the fanservice couple, the scripted couple, be pushed during each other's promotions? How is it that we have seen during these periods of promotions every single other coupling other than JM and JK. Even JK visiting JM during his rehearsals was heavily edited. How come, if we are being sold a fake bond? No JK being forced to go visit JM when performing at the music shows. No JM being forced to do the same with JK. JM paired with Suga for an add for Busan (? that one was really an odd one for me). When did we see them? So yeah, people can scream fanservice all they want, but deep down inside they know it's a crap claim. I won't even go into JK's lives. There was not one ingenuine bone in his body, and that excitement seeing JM's comments, that coquettish behavior while interacting with him (especially during the bed live, OMG!!!), the reactions to the JM centered content he CHOSE to watch during those lives, none of that is scripted nor acted. It's all JK. All him. And JM's reaction when JK shows up at his documentary viewing live, that little butt wiggle in his chair (reminds me of Bam when happy to see his dad/s, as shown by JK), the face lighting up, the genuine worry on his face talking about JK working hard (during another couple of lives), again, not faked.

So yeah, not fanservice.

I digressed, I think.

Let's get back to 2022 why don't we?

On their break these crazy stories of heartbreak and breakup and hate and suffering and god knows what, only all to be thrown out of the window as soon as we got to see the two together again during the Seoul concerts and then LV. Oh LV. That was a wild ride.

Then BTS went on hiatus and the solo era began. And we were getting less and less ot7 content, and once again the insecurities. These ups and downs (you know, the whole JITB party stories about them not being together - that was countered by the BTB that followed a while after), then Busan concert's high, then 2023's downs and ups and downs and ups and fruck it all, I'm sea sick from this stupidity.

Same exact stories were repeated in 2023!!!

Especially after THE CLIP "which shall not be named" dropped.

SAME EXACT TO THE T STORIES!!!

But again, I digress.

Insecurity regarding the two and their bond (seeing they aren't in the public eye) followed by realization that everything is as it was (if not even better and stronger) once we see them together again. And the reason we don't see them together while on break... wait for it... is because they are a private couple living their everyday life, not for the cameras, not for Army, but for THEMSELVES.

Who would have thought.

And when they are together, as in working together, either filming or shooting or performing, well their bond can't be hidden, as much as they might have to wind it down at times (which is mainly not when they are on stage hyped up on adrenaline, lol), seeing that this is still Kpop, with fandoms that feel ownership over them, not to mention them being a queer couple. You know. All the usual reasons.

This idea people have that these two owe us something. That they constantly have to prove their bond, their connection, their relationship. What utter bull.

Anyway, what a slap in the face (for some a good wake up call, for others a well deserved one) the news of them choosing to enlist together was for so many.

Bottom line is, repeated for the millionth time, that these two young men have shown us time and time again that when push comes to shove they will chose one another!!!

I feel like I'm all over the place here. Came to talk about my trip and ended up talking about fanservice and insecurity and god knows what. I guess it's the jetlag (yeah, let's go with that and blame it on the jetlag).

In any case I will go with my favorite saying as of late:

Why this whole long word vomit, you may ask (or you might not ask, who knows, lol)?

What the hell does this have to do with my trip?

Nothing...?

Probably, lol.

But I am going to try to connect the dots. Even if they did make sense in my mind when I first started writing this post and no longer do...

How about the fact that the two chose to take these trips together?

See how I did that? Connecting the unconnected?

Not even going to ask the egg-chicken question here, as I am quite positive it was always about the trips and the show/content for army was the excuse that allowed them to travel 'for work', and a little bonus of content for army when they are away - not to mention perhaps even an opportunity for a soft outing, who knows.

They wanted to spend this time together before enlistment.

We know of at least 3 trips. Connecticut, Jeju and Japan (the Jeju trip may or may not be part of that 'show').

We are yet to know what exactly this 'show' will be. Will it be an actual show, style BV or ITS? Will it be a Vlog? Will we be getting actual episodes or several minute clips? But one thing for sure. Whatever we get, it will be a drop in a lake of the time they spent together. They went on these trips to be together. They shot this 'show' to allow them to be on these trips. This 'show' will give us a glimpse, no more than that, of what they got up to while together. Bottom line - it's about them, not the show and definitley not us.

So yeah, tripping together (lol, as in traveling, just felt like using that fun word, which can mean so much more as well) is something couples love to do, and going on said trips prior to a huge life changing event (let's be real here, going into the military for 18 months, especially knowing that to be able to enlist TOGETHER, they will be placed in one of the harsher units and environments, knowing that even though they will be together they most certainly will not have the freedoms they enjoy prior to enlistment), well that is something they would do as well.

To sum this whole rant up:

I came here to show off some pics from my trip...

If Jikook are allowed to (and god help them all if we don't get that show eventually...), then so am I...

The scenery...

And the wild life

So there you have it.

I managed to talk about my trip and about Jikook all in one long ranty post.

To those that managed to work their way through it I have this to say:

[thelikesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday

Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show. 

I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:

SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3

Apologises in advance for the long post btw

@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)

Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.

believe in one thing (i won't go away)

This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.

◊

@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx

Say It All Out Loud

Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!

How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition

The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.

◊

@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic. 

When Were You Under Me?

Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet. 

You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3

◊

@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:

Color Him Father, Color Him Love

I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love. 

Unless You Ask Me To

Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read. 

◊

@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty. 

Everything But (temptation)

This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace. 

Could Have, Should Have, Would Have

Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it. 

◊

@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx

Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations

For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend. 

Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll

◊

@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss

◊

@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3

Almost Almost Almost

This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll

Under Kitchen Light

SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen. 

◊

@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.

Cleanse

Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.

build me a home underground (free from light and sound)

This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him. 

◊

@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine

out of ashes

Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!! 

◊

@jobairdxx hello lovely xx

Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night

Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside. 

Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3

◊

@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3

love is on its way

I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).

Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)

Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic! 

◊

@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!! 

there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.

◊

@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx

lose yourself in the feeling

I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him. 

start me up, open my eyes

Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well. 

◊

@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!

with a bird at your door

Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay. 

◊

@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx

(tell the gravedigger) better dig two

Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!! 

◊

Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.

Love, Meegs xxxx

[mitamicah]

I will be on hiatus while on music summer camp the next two weeks so I leave you with these sketches I did using your (and people from IG) suggestions 💚🤗

More about the hiatus and seperate files under the line

Suggestions from top to bottom:

Top left + middle; Cat!Jure and Cat!Jan on piano suggested by @j-restlessgeek (bonus Cat!Kris as Marie from Aristocats)

Top right: Bojere eating spaghetti like Lady and the Tramp suggested by windows95fan (IG)

Top-middle left: Pupjan (Puppy!Bojan) and Cätrijä (Cat!Jere) suggested by ehaapassalo 8IG)

Top-middle middle: Chelsea suggested by @formulalakana

Top-middle right: Bojan and Jan on swings suggested by @hazzybat

Bottom-middle left: Barve Oceana Bojan suggested by maja_sether (IG)

Bottom-middle middle: Bunny ear Kris suggested by r4t._art (IG)

Bottom-middle right: Jere and Frank suggested by kiarabeaugrand (IG)

Bottom right: Jan and Igor suggested by this_wei99 (IG)

Bottom left:Jere kissing Bojan's hand suggested by @feral4kaarijasquat

I am yearly attending a music summer camp at the end of july- if you read this between July 21 and August 3/4 2024 that means I am away. My experience tells me I wont have a lo of time to check tumblr that is why I say this blog is on hiatus. However if you see me hanging around from time to time it is probably just me needing 5 min. break - however I wont be able to draw (I don't have my tablet with me for digital art or a scanner for traditional art) and the internet at the camp is not always great so it will probably be very minimum what you see of me.

If you are in need of contacting me you are still very much allowed to do so either here, in my IG dms or if you know my discord then on discord - however I might take a bit of time responding for the same reason as mentioned above.

I will be home around August 4 yet may need a day or two to recover.

Thank you all for suggesting these lovely prompts as my last drawings before the hiatus btw - I plan to restart commissioning when I arrive home again if anybody's interested :3.

Seperate files:

[monikashinswife]

Laurrr it's me hi I'm the problem it's me jokee I trulyyy love your story please I'm obsess 🥹

This is my another request hihi uhm monika and the reader is in public relationship she's part of prowdmon like during the evaluation they're targeting the reader, and the whole group prowdmon specially monika is fuming while reader is like chill something like that btw the reader is like soft spoken person and like super light vibe person, very comforting looking person, so when she dance everyone was shocked because she's the opposite when chilling 🫶🏻

Show Them

(Monika Shin x Reader)

➺ thank you saur much Anon, here is your request. I apologize because this took way too long. Anygays I hope y'all are doing well.<3 You can skip to 2:00 mins to get the vibe of the battle ♡

It's been a while since I made appearance in battles and made noise in the dancing scene. But my presence is always mentioned even though I don't appear. It's not gonna be easy for them to get rid of my name. Especially with how many I contributed to the community.

And for that people recognize and appreciated me. I appeared in battles globally and gave recognition and wins while representing my country. I made way for them to be recognized, and even though I took a hiatus. Because of an injury, it was not lethal but it required me to rest for a while.

People still wanna get involved in me. And my business and personal relationships. It's not a secret that I am in a long term relationship with who is known as the Professors of Dancers. They constantly wanna get updates about what's happening with our relationship.

While we're in the middle of our dinner date, in our favorite restaurant. Monika suddenly opened up about the new opportunity. "So I was offered to create a crew and participate in a new show." She said, not beating around the bush.

"That's great love!" I said enthusiastically, still enjoying the food. "Can I?" I asked softly, knowing from her expression that my question is bugging her. I observed her hesitant face.

"Sooni knows right?" She nod, almost hesitantly. She gave me the look. The look that's telling me that this is bothering her. But there is still something inside her that wants me to join."Please?" I reach for her hand to further convince her.

"You're injured" She finally let out, I let out a small sigh. "I wouldn't wanna risk your health." I just stared at her, Monika started to bite her lips as she observed my reaction. She waited nervously for any answer, her grip on my hands tightened as worry seeps inside her.

"Darling? Say something..." Her voice so small, she doesn't know why she's feeling nervous. Probably it was because she still didn't know if I would or could continue dancing.

"I'm already healed... Please Monika, I'll be very careful" the look of anticipation spread all over my face as she played with my fingers. A moment of silence passed between us before I asked.

"What's the show?" she almost relaxed and explained what show it is. And that confirmed my question. As the producer also contacted me about it but I still haven't responded. Because I know that they'll contact her and I wanna be with her in this competition.

It's heartwarming that they are finally recognizing dancers. "Alright, I'll do it with you." I squealed and kissed her in celebration. "You promise to be careful?" She asked, the doubtful thoughts made its way because of my situation.

Suddenly, the people in the restaurant is forgotten, Monika placed her chair next to you, she took both of your hands with hers.

"You deserve to be there Y/n. You could be the judge because of how big of a contribution you made. And I know this has always been your passion, but I wouldn't want you causing yourself harm because of doing something you love. So promise me, please?." She begged for my safety, she knows how carefree I can be when I'm in my element.

But for her, I'll be careful so I wouldn't worry her. I nodded sincerely at her. Promising her wholeheartedly.

"So what's next?" Just then the mood shifted into something lighter. We're already suggesting ideas with each other. Picking the crew member and the name of the crew.

The competition came sooner. Luckily, years of experience came in handy. You came back to practicing and even teaching classes at Monika's studio, trying to get used to it again so I wouldn't get overwhelmed. And it's honestly good to be back.

And into the dance battle you go. When you descend down the stairs. You look at each crews there. PROWDMON's presence is certainly overwhelming, you can see how nervous the other crew are. But PROWDMON greeted them with energy, especially Monika who's making jokes as we made our way to our seat.

"I like this." I blurted out to Monika. While smiling at the crews. Monika's arm is wrapped around my waist as we settled. I am honestly happy. I was about to point out the energy when our crew performance is flash on the screen.

"That's us." Monika pointed, and we immediately payed attention to the screen moving closer to see it better. YGX was the first to comment, and it was safe. The other crew pointed out MoLip's career and mine.

It was all jokes and laughters between other crews because of their comments about the age. But then it took a completely different turn.

When other crew mentioned my name, I remained focus. My eyes on the screen as I listened to what they are saying after complementing me and my contributions.

"But y/n saem, has been on hiatus." Other crew pointed out and the rest of the other crews followed, "so I'm really curious to see her."

"I wonder if her skill reduced"

"Would she still be the same after that injury and break? I doubt that she'll still be the same."

"She looks far too soft here."

I nodded calmly at their words. In my peripheral vision I can see that those who said their words were nervous. But I gave them an assuring and comforting smile. But Monika is certainly not happy with their words.

Disbelief noises left PROWDMON's members they all commented and defended me proudly, looking at crews who said those words as they stare at them in warning.

Monika and I remained silent, me because I was still focused on the screen while Monika because she did not like their comments. Not one bit. The look on her face changed, and she would voice it out.

"I hate that." Monika's authoritative voiced echoed around the room. Suddenly, the air was tense. When the energy of PROWDMON changed. They all remained silent, some not meeting our eyes. They have all the nerves to say those words when we are not in front of us.

But where did those nerves go?

Before Monika could say something else. It was my turn to wrap my arm around her waist. Finally, the torture has ended and we returned to our seat with the members heavy footsteps. Monika looked at the crews once again, warning them with her commanding eyes.

"It's fine" I took her hand and kiss it to calm her down. Her breath heaved as she tried to relax. "Calm down babe, it's chill." I calmly stated but Monika would not tolerate such behavior.

The other crews saw the interaction you both are having, they gulp as they saw you tame the beast which is Monika. Some of them whispering how you prove their point about you being "too soft" because of your attitude this time.

The show's MC was introduced and the program continues. And the no respect battle was introduced. Dancers are given some time to change into something comfortable that they can dance while wearing.

Prowdmon are in their hideout doing their own thing, you're fixing your sleeves when Monika made her way closer to you. She present her arm, and you chuckle before helping her fix her white sleeves.

"Don't mind them okay?" She tuck your hair behind your ears before she caress your cheeks affectionately. But your serious gaze made her say something, "I don't like their words towards you." You gave her a soft smile before Hyo Won came for your defense.

"They don't know what they're talking about." The other members chants follows "Show them! Show Them!" We all gather together for a group hug before the screen told us to go back.

Once the crews are settled. The battle began, and as much as this is a competition. It is also a show. And the crews enjoyed the performance of those in the battle ground.

"The dancer that I can beat is..." there was a long pause in Rihey's words as she scan the crews one by one. Until our crew name PROWDMON came out. I smiled, knowing who it is already. It was expected as she was one of the many that says a lot about me.

"PROWDMON Y/n." They let out collective gasps and wows. My team stayed silent with proud faces as they know what's bound to happen. I just smiled as I walk to the stage.

Just happy to be back. I nodded my head at Rihey not dropping my smile. The MC introduced us before the song started playing. I gave her a nod, acknowledging that she will go first.

Her body started following the rhythm as she started dancing. The look on my eyes and face changed. Suddenly the tension became heavier as they thought that this would be a light hearted moment.

I tilted my head, my face stoic as she tried to taunt me while dancing. I gave a small smirk while she bounced and dance desperately. She is good, I gave her that.

I approve but I'm not her to evaluate her. I'm her competition and Competition I am.

"Switch to PROWDMON Y/N!" Loud cheers erupted, I let myself soak in their cheers. Completely turning into the person that they all know.

"Make it bounce up, Make it bounce up" the crowd cheered as I lip synced the lyrics. I step up. Calm before the storm.

Then, me and the music became one. I managed to kneel in the first few seconds. Bouncing while on my knees as I popped.

As I move my whole body. The audience move with me. The unity and cohesiveness of my dance is undeniable and unmatched.

There was no denying that when you dance, you stole the whole room's attention. Your presence demanded and attracted them. And it doesn't help that your expression is perfect. The way you convey the mood through your face.

The way your body sways with the music. You flow like a wave, smooth and hard, your moves crystal like the water. And your dance range wide like the ocean. You orchestrate the room with your movements.

They all scream when they saw how impactful you are. You gesture to the now mesmerized Rihey. Making her dance like she's someone being sway by the wave. Your influence and presence is totally unmatched.

You look like a different person. You, but still different. Whoever underestimated you is now proven. You did not grow weaker. But you came back stronger despite having something that would make you weaker.

Your audience screamed and clap once you're done. You bowed in respect. You heard them talk and they were overwhelmed with the battle. Rihey and you put out a legendary fight.

You laugh when they threw their shoes and some threw their banner. Rihey makes her way closer to you and she bowed. You gave her a sweet smile before giving her a hug.

"That was WOW" the Daniel shake his head and let out an impressed noise. "Indeed it was, I can't believe I'm blessed to witness that" Boa added, your eyes twinkling as you wait for their vote.

Monika's voice is the loudest when she saw how you won with unanimous vote. You bowed to your opponent and hopped back to your teammates.

"I'm so proud! I'll definitely treat you later" she marveled with you in her arms. You melted into her arms for a moment before the rest of PROWDMON went in for a group hug.

You laugh altogether before you settle back to your seats, faces all proud. Victory is certainly a good look in your team. And not only were you marveling in victory but also you were all genuinely happy to be there.

Once the episode shoot is finished. You said goodbye to the rest of the crew with the next mission in mind. You all decided to have dinner together some other time.

Your smirk went back on your face as you look at Monika mischievously. You brought your face closer to her ear, making sure to caress her hand as you whisper, voice slow and low.

"I can't wait for that treat"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(not proofread)