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mylostloversbookmarks · 1 year

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thank you!! My request is: Joel x female reader. Age gap. They met after Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, they started to know each other, at first they kept it a bit like a secret but then, when things started to get more serious, they didn’t hide anymore. Things got so serious that after a while (not immediately, like a year or two) Joel asked reader to move in with him and Ellie.

Ellie loves reader and she’s more than happy that Joel found his special someone. Could you add a scene where reader is with Ellie one afternoon and they see Joel with a woman, acting really intimate, which connects to reader’s thoughts about Joel being a bit weird the previous days. She thinks he’s cheating on her, also because the woman is really close and intimate to Joel in that situation.

She wants to leave before he sees her but Joel notices her presence, tries to talk to her but doesn’t deny the accusations at first, (so a lot of angst!!!) which makes reader think she lost the love of her life.

They don’t talk for a few days and try to ignore each other when possible, despite living together. Ellie is sad and suffers from this situation. Joel loves reader too much to ruin things so he puts his pride aside and tries talking to her. They eventually talk it through, he was not cheating (choose whatever the alternative to that is!!) maybe a little fluff at the end or also something else? You choose!

also, if you have any rules or have triggers about something that I requested please let me know and change the story how you need to.

And I’m extremely sorry if this request is too long and detailed.

thank you!!!

Guiding Lights - a Joel Miller one shot.

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count - 8.7K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, , Sus!Joel, Soft!Joel, insecurities, suspected cheating, no actual cheating, I think thats all?

A/N - @addictedtotlou This is my first ever fic request and I cannot thank you enough for sending it through, and also for dropping into my inbox to let me know it was you that requested it! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy <3

Feedback, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

You often find yourself reminiscing on the day you met Joel and Ellie, it feels like forever ago now, though it has only really been a few years.

The winters in Wyoming were never kind, but that year, Mother Nature had been particularly cruel. Strong winds and vicious snow blizzards reduced visibility to almost nothing. You had heard those posted to the lookout stations talking over lunches and complaining about how bad the conditions were getting.

So in a bid to keep the good folks of Jackson safe, Tommy and Maria decided to double the number of patrols around the commune in an attempt to keep an eye on the horizon for any potential threats who could be hiding just beyond their sights.

Needless to say, it had been a rather slow work day in the Tipsy Bison, with the usual counting and re-counting of stock, checking on the latest brew of beers and whisky, ensuring everything was going as planned, and cleaning of the already immaculate bar, all finished in record time.

Expecting the usual after-work rush that never came, you sent the other two bar staff over to the mess hall to see if the kitchen needed any help with preparations for tomorrow's meals.

As the two said their goodbyes over their shoulders, you heard one of them mumble a shocked "What the hell?"

With your interest piqued, you stepped out from behind the old wooden bar and crossed the floor to the large square windows at the front of the building. Your eyes followed their gaze and watched as the afternoon patrol crew filed through the large wooden and steel-clad gates of the commune.

You waved as a few of your regulars passed you, a few tipping the brims of their ten-gallon hats. You quickly realised what had drawn your colleagues' attention when your eyes landed on two new faces in the middle of the crew.

The first newcomer was a man; he wore a thick brown winter coat and jeans that looked like they could stand up on their own, and you could see the toe of his work boot was mended with what looked to be duck tape. His eyes were sharp and focused, darting around him as if in search of someone or something.

Instantly, he gave you the impression of someone who had been on the road for quite some time. Having been there yourself, you felt a surge of sympathy for him, but you were still wary of him, not knowing why he had been brought inside the walls.

The second was a girl, whom you assumed to be the man's daughter; she was small and looked to be in her early teens. Strands of her tawny brown hair peek out from under her winter hat. big, bright eyes, taking in her surroundings in wonder, while the man stared straight ahead. The girl seemed to be unaware that all eyes were on her, from those who stood on the street to others standing in shop windows, just as you were.

You followed the other barstaff out to the porch and offered the girl a small smile as your eyes met, she quickly looked away without returning it. It wasn't often that Jackson took in new people, opting to keep off the radar to try and protect what you had here. Maria was on this afternoon's patrol and had no doubt made the call to bring the two into the commune.

As the crew passed, heading further into the small town, you saw the man's head snap to the left, and he opened his mouth.

"Tommy!" he shouted, his deep, booming voice ringing in the silence. In an instant, he was off his horse and running in the direction of the scaffolding that had been put up to repair some of the damage to a neighbouring building.

You watched on in stunned silence as the two men ran towards each other, unsure of what the newcomers intentions were, but before you had made it down the two steps of the porch, the man wrapped his arms around Tommy and began laughing, disbelief colouring the sound.

The two men stood embracing each other, both breathless from laughter, and you knew immediately who the newcomer was. This was Joel, Tommy's brother.

Tommy had spoken of him before; usually after one too many whiskies at the bar, he would open up to you about how guilty he felt about staying off the radio. He would say things like, "It's only a matter of time before he comes looking for me, Y/N; what am I supposed to do? Turn him away?" and "One thing about my big bother is that he's persistent."

You had always offered words of understanding and comfort and almost always cut him off and sent him home after those conversations, knowing that no good could come from him drinking any more alcohol.

Part of being the town's main bar tender was also being a listening ear whenever someone needed it, but with Tommy, it was different. He and Maria had become your closest friends, and you would always be there when either of them needed you, working or not.

You always got the sense that something had happened between the two men that couldn't be fixed. As you watched the brothers reunite, you realised that the thought couldn't be further from the truth.

Maria caught your eye as she dismounted from her horse and jerked her head to the side, beseeching you to join her. You nodded at her and crossed the road to where she was standing, hitching her horse to one of the many posts dotted around town.

"Maria, is that who I think it is?" You asked her quietly, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation.

"Yeah, it is," she spat. "I don't know how the hell he found us out here." She continued, venom dripping from each word.

You knew that Maria had never actually met Joel, but from the stories Tommy had told you both in the early years, she knew what he was capable of and decided then and there that she did not like him. You, on the other hand, had a more objective outlook on things.

You were not involved in the same way Maria was, of course; she and Tommy were married after all, so you could understand her reservations when he opened up about his past with his brother and the things they had done and what they thought they needed to do to survive.

The problem was, Maria had been in Jackson longer than you and Tommy and therefore had less of an idea what a brutal hellscape it was outside the walls. Maria wasn't stupid; she knew that it was dangerous, but it had been so long since she had to live like that, to really be surviving, not trusting anyone you met along the way, not knowing where your next meal was coming from, or if you were going to make it to worry about the next meal.

You, on the other hand, had lived that life for longer than you would like to remember, and though you didn't have innocent blood on your hands, they were far from clean. So you could sympathise with Tommy and the demons that clearly kept him up at night. So you felt the hatred that Maria has for Joel was a little unfounded.

"I'm happy he found him again," you admitted, unable to help the undercurrent meant by your works. What you really wanted to say was "This should have happened a long time ago if you had let him respond to Joel's calls on the radio" Meeting her narrowed eyes, you saw a flash of anger in them. No doubt you will get an earful for that comment later.

You knew what she was going to say: that Joel wasn't going to fit in here in Jackson, that Tommy was better off without him, and that you should keep a safe distance from him. But she didn't have the opportunity, as Tommy was already walking towards the two of you.

Joel had walked back to where the girl waited on her horse; a worried, almost disappointed expression crossed her face as he gestured towards Tommy. You watched as he gently helped her down from the animal, making sure she was steady on her feet before the pair followed behind Tommy.

"Y/N, Maria, ah… this is my big brother, Joel," Tommy announced, his tone a mixture of pride and nervousness.

"Hey, it's good to finally meet you; I've heard a lot about you." You smiled kindly at him; he nodded once in response, his expression guarded.

"I'm Ellie! It's nice to meet you," the girl chirps cheerily before shoving her elbow into Joel's ribs. "Joel, say hello," she all but hissed at him, which makes you chuckle.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ellie." You beam.

"It's, uh, good to meet you," he managed quietly.

Two years later...

A loud knock at your front door startles you. Your hand flies to your heart as you curse under your breath. Who the hell would be calling on you at this hour of the morning?

You pad down the hallway and open the door to find Joel standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He seemed keyed up, and your heart drops to your stomach; something must have happened.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is Ellie alright?" You squeaked at him, the panic rising in your chest causing your voice to go up an octave.

"Yes, darlin, everything's fine, Ellie's good; don't worry; I just need to talk to you about something, that's all," he assured you in his thick Texas drawl.

"Everything's good… but you need to talk to me about something at 6 a.m." You questioned him dubiously, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I promise everything is fine; I have morning patrol and was hoping I could catch you before I head out," Joel explains, the ghost of a smile playing on his plump lips.

"Ah, okay, that makes sense, sorry; c'mon, handsome." You laugh as you open the door for him to enter and close it after him.

He follows you down the hall into the small kitchen, lingering in the doorway and studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your figure as you pour him a cup of coffee. Strong, black, no sugar—just the way he likes it.

Turning with the mug in your hand, you let out a breathy laugh at the sight of him. He looked wired, far too awake for this hour of the morning. Was he sweating?

"Joel, baby, are you alright?" You ask curiously as you hand him his coffee and take your usual seat at the end of the dining table.

"Yeah, I just…I wanna ask you something but I don't know how" he confessed sheepishly, his large hand coming to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.

"I'd like to think you know me well enough by now to know you can ask me anything." You said it with a smile, hoping to calm whatever was causing his nerves.

"Yeah, no, I know, I just don't want to freak you out; there's no pressure, and I understa-"

"Just spit it out, Joel." You interrupt him. In the two years you had been with Joel, you had never seen him struggle for words with you, and it was making you anxious.

"Okay," he huffs out, pulling the dining room chair out so he could sit facing you. He takes a long drink of coffee before continuing, and the suspense is killing you.

"So I was speaking to Ellie, and you know we both love you; hell, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me!" He chuckles fondly: "Look, we've been seeing each other for a while, and now that everyone knows, I think it would be good, you know, f-for Ellie if she had a…I dunno, like a mother figure on a more permanent basis." The words were falling out of his mouth like an avalanche. He desperately hoped he was making sense, but you still weren't understanding.

"Permenant basis? What do you mean?" You ask, confusion clear on your face, making him laugh again.

"Yeah, like on an everyday basis," he enphasises. Urging you to grasp the meaning of his words.

"Okay, um, I mean, yeah, I think that's a great idea. I love that kid. I will tell her about making an effort to hang out every day." You promise him sincerely and are touched that he thinks of you as a mother figure to his daughter.

"That's not really what I was thinking, baby; I mean, on a permanent basis, like you would live in the same house." He husks softly, his eyes searching your face for your reaction, and his heart sinks to his boots as he watches your brows knit together.

"Did you have another fight?" You ask him, reaching your hand up to stroke the side of his face, your thumb lingering on the heart-shaped patch of his beard where the hair refused to grow. "Ellie's always more than welcome to stay here when she likes, but Joel, I don't think her moving in here is the answer."

He takes your hand from his face and holds it between both of his; he huffs all the air from his lungs and slowly takes another deep breath. Straightening in his chair, he locks eyes with you.

"I knew this would be an easy ask, but I didn't imagine you making it this hard on me," he says exasperatedly, huffing out another loud laugh.

"I don't understand." Confusion layers your tone, and you are sure your face is doing the same.

"I'm not asking if Ellie can move in with you; I'm asking if… if you would like to move in with us Y/N" He admits. His brown eyes are soft and lingering on your face, and his thumb is tracing small circles on your wrist.

This was not the conversation you were expecting to have over your morning coffee; your brain was barely functioning, and your mind started to race. The last two years of your life, with Joel and Ellie passing by before you in a blur of colours and memories.

You had sympathised with Joel's struggles to adjust to life in Jackson, and given that you worked in the only bar in town, he quickly became a familiar face. You ignored Maria's warnings to stay away from him; after all, she didn't know him from Adam, and you felt it was unfair to judge someone on the things they had done as the world fell apart overnight.

So, slowly but surely, you found yourself at work, hoping each night that he would stop in so you could get to know him better, and he always did. Always opting to sit at the bar, despite there being plenty of more comfortable booths to sit at.

At first, it was always you who initiated the conversation, asking him how his day was, how the patrol had gone, and how Ellie was fitting in, and you listened tentatively to what little information he would give you. Until eventually, after a couple of months of the same routine, he started to open up to you.

He would ask you how you were, how your shift had been, if you had a good day off, and on occasion he would let slip that he "missed you yesterday" when he called in for a drink on his way home from patrol, only to be disappointed that you were nowhere to be found.

It made you giddy; he was on your mind constantly; it made you feel like there was a swarm of butterflies in your belly, but you thought it was only harmless flirting as there was a considerable age gap between you both, with Joel being in his fifties and you in your early thirties, you didn't think Joel would be interested in a relationship with you.

But how wrong you were! After a couple of weeks of late-night drinks after the bar had officially closed, Joel had bitten the bullet and asked you out, though he asked if you wouldn't mind keeping it between the two of you as he didn't know how Ellie would react to him seeing someone and you gladly accepted.

You understood that Ellie was and always would be his first priority, and you admired his unwavering dedication to her, especially after finding out that Ellie wasn't his blood relative; he had taken her on as "cargo," as he affectionately put it. As a way to get one step closer to finding his brother, but she had worked her way under his skin, much like she did with everyone she met. It was so difficult not to like her. With her quick wit and foul mouth, she never failed to make you laugh. She was definitely his daughter, blood or no blood.

The thought of Ellie brings your mind back to the question at hand: should you move in with them? Was now the right time? Was Ellie even okay about this? Did she even know Joel had asked you? Each question raced through your mind until your mouth found one it could form words around.

"What does Ellie think of this?" You asked Joel intently, reading his face for any signs of worry or panic at your question, but there were none to be found.

"I mentioned to Ellie a few months ago that I thought it would be nice if you were around all the time, and she agreed, and then I sat her down yesterday and told her that I was thinking of asking you today, and she was all for it. I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, though; it's okay if it's too soon; you can say no, and we won't be offended in the slightest!" Joel assures you, his voice is low and genuine.

He lifts his right hand to the side of your face and gently brushes the hair out of your eyes, his calloused thumb stroking back and forth as you lean into his touch, allowing your eyes to fall closed. Taking a deep breath, you throw caution to the wind.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, your voice drops to a whisper. "Yes, I'll move in."

Suddenly your body was moving, and not by its own volition; your eyes were still closed, so your brain was having trouble registering what was happening. When your eyes flashed open in surprise, you were caught up in Joel's arms, spinning around your small kitchen with your feet no longer planted on the floor.

"Joel!" You squeal through breathy laughter, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

"Are you sure, baby?" He asks, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"Yes, I'm sure handsome, but I have one condition!" You warn him, arching a fluffy brow.

"Name your price, sweetheart," he smirks at you through the whiskers of his full moustache.

"I get to tell Ellie," You beam back at him, your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers scractching lightly at the curls that have formed there.

"I think she'd like that," he ghosts against your lips, lightly brushing his nose against your own until you lean up and crush your mouth to his.

Three years later...

It has been a hectic few weeks for the community in Jackson, working through yet another savage winter. You were just through the middle of it, and the end was in sight. The snow storms were not as frequent and the winds were not as wild.

Work has been keeping you busy. You are still the main bartender at the Tipsy Bison, but much to Joel's dismay, you have also picked up a few patrol shifts to lend a hand to Tommy as a few of the older patrol crew stepped back into other work duties due to ill health.

It has felt like months since you and Joel have spent any quality time together, despite living in the same house and working in the same community. Whenever you were both home, he seemed distant and preoccupied, as if there was somewhere else he wanted to be. You tried to engage him in conversation, but he would only give you short answers before retreating into his own thoughts.

At first, you thought that he might just be stressed out from work duty or the weather, as bad as it has been, but as the days turned into weeks, you started to feel a growing sense of unease. You have never seen Joel act this way before, not with you at least, and you don't know what to do.

You miss his closeness; the late-night conversations at the bar while you finished up your shift—all of that has stopped, and no matter how many hours you spent trying to figure out why, you always came up blank.

So needless to say, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with Ellie this evening to help take your mind off your worries. You had stood under the shower for longer than you intended, just enjoying how the steaming water rolled down your tense frame.

With a sigh, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in your towel, headed into your bedroom to get dressed, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that the house had heating, an especially rare commodity with the world's current condition. Jackson really was a paradise of sorts.

"Ellie! C'mon kiddo, we're going to be late for the movie!," You shout from the bottom of the stairs, shrugging into your winter jacket.

Movie night Fridays have quickly become a tradition for you and Ellie, especially now that the winter has rolled back around and it's too cold to spend much time outdoors.

"Alright, I'm coming; Jesus, keep your hair on!" Ellie mutters as she makes her way down the stairs, where you wait for her.

"We only have 20 minutes before the film starts, and I know you're going to want to get snacks, so we've got to make tracks." You laugh as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Alright Mom," she mocks, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"You're such a little shit, you know that, right?" You tell her fondly with a warm smile.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," she grins.

"Ah, I see, and does Dina know all about your charm?" You playfully jab her ribs with your elbow, wagging your brows up and down.

"Ugh, you're so annoying; you know that, right?" Ellie counters, always so quick-witted.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," You repeat her words back to her, earning another eye roll.

The two of you leave the house and trudge out into the snow; thankfully, the blizzard has calmed, and now fat, fluffy flakes of snow flurry around you like something from a movie scene.

As brutal as they can be, you have never seen anything more beautiful than Jackson in the winter. It was like something you would see on a postcard of a ski village in the French Alps, all timber buildings and string lights illuminating the small town.

On Friday nights, the mess hall was turned into a makeshift movie theatre for the youth that lived in the commune, offering them some respite from the grind of daily life. It was complete with candy, drinks, and, of course, pop corn.

At first, Ellie hadn't seemed all that interested in going, not knowing many kids her age, but after a lot of coaxing and the promise that if she didn't like it, she didn't have to go again or even stay for the full movie, Though she quickly found her feet with Dina, the rest was really history.

"Where's Joel tonight? I thought he was going to come with us." Ellie asked curiously.

"Oh shit, I meant to tell you earlier; he said Tommy asked him to cover the evening patrol tonight, so he can't make it." You explained, not really sure why Tommy needed him to cover after already doing the afternoon patrol, but it must have been important, so you didn't give it a second thought.

You and Ellie walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful walk through town. You were about to ask her how she was getting on with her work detail when she came to a standstill.

"I thought you said Joel was on patrol tonight?" she demanded, her face contorting in confusion.

"Uh yeah, Ellie, I just told you that." You confirm, your own confusion mirroring hers.

"Then what the fuck is he doing in the bar?" She fumes, gesturing behind you to the window of the Tipsy Bison.

Sure enough, there he sits at the bar with Jenna. Joel was nursing a whisky, and she was playfully peeling back the homemade label of her beer bottle. They are sitting in the corner booth by the window, leaning towards each other to the point where their heads are far too close to be appropriate.

In that moment, your breathing stopped. Your stomach sank to the floor, and an overwhelming sense of panic and dread began to claw viciously from your chest up your throat, resting heavy on your tongue.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks nervously, not really sure what to do or say in this situation. It could be nothing, but even to her, it definitely looked like something.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Ellie, why don't you go on down to the mess hall, and I'll meet you there in a few?" You tell her more than ask, your eyes never leaving the window.

"No way fuck that I'm staying with you!" she demands, her eyes growing wet around her long lashes.

"No, Ellie, I need to talk to Joel; I will catch up with you in a few, okay?" You meet her eyes and nod in the direction of the mess hall. She only nods in response; your tone is final as she turns on her heel and storms towards the makeshift movie theatre.

What the fuck is happening right now? You trusted Joel; it never bothered you when the ladies in Jackson would bat their eyes at him or when their glances lingered a little too long. You took it as a compliment; hell, if you were them, you would stare too.

Your relationship was built on a foundation of honesty and trust from the very beginning. You have told him things you have never shared with another living soul, and he has done the same with you. Never in your life did you think you would be lucky enough to share a connection with someone the way you have with Joel, let alone after the world had ended.

And now here you stand in the middle of town, watching the man you love cosy up with another woman in plain sight, not even having the decency to try and hide it from you.

You stand there for another few minutes, watching how he leans across the table to talk to her, laughing and caressing his arm in response. It sets fire to your blood, and you can feel it moving like molten lava in your veins.

You're moving before you realise you have made the decision to do so, your feet carrying you furiously forward, up to the short creaking steps and through the entrance to the bar, and then there you are, looming over their table. Your eyes bore holes into his skull. He jumps in his seat and scrambles frantically to hide the notebook that was sitting open on the table between them. You didn't pay it a second glance.

"I didn't realise the bar needed patrolling this evening," you state pointedly at him, ignoring Jenna, who is doing everything she can to avoid eye contact with you, fidgeting in her seat, and clambering to get her things together. Grabbing her coat and scarf from beside her.

"Hey darlin, I thought you and Ellie were heading to the movies." He asks, his voice rough with his attempts to hide his nerves.

"We were on our way there when she saw this cosy scene from the street." You gesture with your hand towards the table, your voice icy as you let your hand drop to your side with an audible slap, which made Jenna flinch.

"I think I'm going to head out…" Jenna murmurs in a small, quiet voice, still avoiding your gaze.

"That is a wise decision" You agreed without taking your eyes of Joel.

She throws Joel a cryptic glance before clambering out of her seat and quickly making her way to the door, shooting Joel an apologetic glance over her shoulder, which only fuels the rage bubbling up in your throat.

"What the fuck?" You growl at him, doing your best to keep your voice under control. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene. Especially not at your workplace, regardless of whether you were on shift or not.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, genuinely confused by your anger.

"Please tell me you're joking," you seethe.

"What? I can't have a drink with a friend." He scoffs, incredulous.

"Seriously Joel? Since when have you had to lie about working to have a drink with a friend?"

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?" he countered, avoiding the question.

"No, I really don't think I am. How could you do this? How could you do this in front of Ellie?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel huffs back at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes begin to prick with anger fuelled tears; the feeling of betrayal rips through you, leaving you exposed to his hard gaze. You can't take any more of this. It feels like the room is closing in around you. That you will suffocate if you don't leave right now. You look at him once more, and the fact that he hasn't denied it or assured you that this is anything other than what you fear it to be ,allows your world to crumble around you.

"Alright," you manage in a broken whisper that comes out as a choked sob.

With that, you turn and bolt for the door, desperately gasping for air but unable to get enough to fill your lungs. You have to brace yourself on the railing of the porch. You can feel his eyes on you as he watches you leave from where he sits frozen at the table, but he makes no move to follow after you.

Willing your legs to move, you push off the railing and slowly make your way to the mess hall, slipping in just as the movie is starting. You can see Ellie is sitting in the middle of the crowded room, and she has saved you a seat beside her.

You make your way to the restroom, taking in your reflection for the first time that evening. Your face is red and splotchy from crying, your eyes puffy, and your lips swollen from your teeth worrying at them. With shaking hands, you reach out to turn the tap on, splashing the icy cold water over your face as you try to make sense of what has just unfolded.

You knew Jenna; she is one of the few people trained in blacksmithing in Jackson, but you had never been especially close with her. She would frequent the bar and chat with you about her work day and vice versa, but that was the extent of your relationship with her, and you have never seen Joel interact with her. It just didn't make sense; why would he throw everything away for a fling with someone who lives in the same commune? Did he really think you wouldn't find out?

You do your best to shake the thoughts from your head, focused on spending the rest of the evening with Ellie, you will do everything in your power to shelter her from this. So with a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and left the restroom, smiling and waving politely at familiar faces as you made your way to your seat, stopping by the makeshift concession stand to grab Ellie some popcorn and a soda on your way.

"Hey, I've got you some snacks, kiddo." You whisper to her, not wanting to interrupt the film.

"Thanks, are you okay?" She murmered with a small smile. Taking the snacks from your outstretched hands.

"Yes, of course everything's fine; there was a mix-up with the patrols, so Joel didn't have to work tonight after all." You reassured her softly.

It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.

You weren't really sure what movie was even playing tonight, so lost in your thoughts that it was just a blurry hum in the background. Ellie had to nudge your shoulder several times to tell you that the movie had was over. Glancing around to find a steady stream of people filing out of the mess hall.

"Sorry, Ellie, I'm just a bit distracted tonight; work has been so hectic recently, and I have so much to do when I open tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off. Hoping that she will let it go and that she wasn't being as observant tonight as she usually is. The girl misses nothing.

"It's okay, the film was a repeat anyway," she shrugs, not pressing you on the matter, though you know all too well that the questions will come eventually.

"Shall we head home? It sounds like it's getting pretty rough out there," you noted, as another howl of wind wipped around the wooden building.

"Sounds good; I want to have a shower before Joel uses all the hot water again," she ribs in a peel of bright laughter that sends warmth radiating through your now hollow chest.

When you reach the house, you find it in darkness. Joel hasn't made it home yet, and although you are beyond angry, you can't help but worry about him. Of course he can look after himself, but it isn't like him to be out this late if he wasn't on patrol.

The seething voice in the back of your head reminds you that he could be with her. You try to push those thoughts out of your head, but they linger like a dark cloud, casting a grim shadow over what was your perfect - or as perfect as it could be - life.

"I'm going for a shower and then head to bed, you okay?" Ellie asks, once again pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, of course, kiddo, no worries. Do you need anything? You want some tea?" You offer as you head to the stove and place a pot of water on to boil.

"No, I'm good. Thanks though, g'night!" She calls over her shoulder, and then you are alone in the small kitchen.

"Night kiddo," You call quietly to her as you reach for the herbal tea blend that you and Ellie grew in your little garden last summer.

As you wait for the water to boil, your mind starts to race with worry and anxiety. You can't help but think of all the possible scenarios that could be keeping Joel out this late, and the thought of him being with another woman makes you want to break things. You have tried to push those thoughts out of your head so many times this evening, but they keep creeping back.

A few hours later, you are sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, desperately fighting to keep your eyes open, but in the end you give up, gently placing your book on the coffee table and removing the blanket from your lap. You look at the clock on the wall, and it's just after 3am.

You pad into the kitchen and leave your mug in the sink, too tired to wash it now; that's tomorrow's problem. Heading up the creaky stairs to your bedroom and crawling into the cold sheets. It feels wrong going to bed without Joel by your side, but he is god knows where right now, so you lean over, turn the bedside lamp off, and sink into a restless, uneasy sleep.

You wake to the wintery morning sunshine seeping through your bedroom window. Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Slowly sitting up in bed, you stretch your tired bones, sore from your restless few hours of sleep, and swing your legs out of bed. It's only 7 a.m.; you don't usually open the bar until midday, so you have plenty of time to get ready.

You slink down the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie as you do so. Heading into the kitchen mid-yawn, you stop in your tracks as you find Joel standing at the stove, hovering over a pot of boiling water on the closest ring to him.

"Mornin'," he husks without turning; he must have heard you yawning with his good ear to the doorway.

You ignore him, knowing full well that it's petty and childish and ultimately will not resolve anything, but with the way he behaved last night, you feel the cold shoulder is justified.

You both continue with your morning rituals in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn't know where to begin broaching the subject, and the more you stewed over it, the more you felt he should be the one to open the conversation with an explanation, but if you were being totally honest with yourself, you were beginning to worry that you may have jumped to conclusions.

But when you thought about the way they were huddled together, her hand on his arm, and the way she tipped her head back in laughter at each thing he said, the pit in your stomach grew. As did the silence between you.

Things went on like this for days, with the two of you skirting around each other and avoiding eye contact. Only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary, like dinner times, and giving each other your work duties for the week.

You could see the effect this was having on Ellie; she has been especially quiet the last few days, so once Joel leaves for work, you sit with her on the couch and try to get her to open up.

"Ellie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

"I don't know. You and Joel have been acting weird lately, and it's making me tense." She shrugs, not meeting your gaze.

You take a deep breath, knowing that you can't keep avoiding the issue. "Yeah, we've been having some problems. But it's nothing you need to worry about, kiddo."

"It doesn't seem like nothing," she retorts. "You guys haven't spoken in days. It's not like you."

"I know, Ellie. I just don't know how to fix it." You sigh.

"Maybe you could start by talking to him," she suggests.

"It's not that simple, Ellie. There's a lot going on." You shake your head.

"Well, maybe it would help if you talked to me about it," she offers.

"Thanks, Ellie. But it's not something I can really discuss with you. Just know that Joel and I are working through some things and we'll get through it." You smile softly at her, grateful for her kindness.

She nods, not looking convinced but not pressing the issue. You sit in silence for a moment before she stands up. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. Need to clear my head."

"Okay, kiddo. Be safe," you say, watching her leave.

You're left alone in the quiet house, the weight of your problems still heavy on your shoulders. You know Ellie is right; you need to talk to Joel. But the thought of confronting him is daunting, and you don't know if you want to hear what he has to say.

What if he doesn't want you anymore? What if he's not happy and hasn't been for a while?

You decide that enough is enough. After work this evening, you are going to speak to him and attempt to clear the air, hear his side of the story, and try to move forward, if not for the sake of your relationship but for Ellie. It's not fair to have this weighing on her shoulders; it's not her fault, and you hate seeing her unhappy, and you know that Joel will feel the same about his if nothing else.

The workday drags on uneventfully; the only thing standing out was that Jenna had come to the bar for the first time since that evening. She gave you a small smile, and you returned it with a polite nod. You were at work after all and took it upon yourself to remain as professional as possible.

Jenna approaches the bar and orders her usual, which you pour for her without issue, though it makes your skin itchy to be this close to her.

"Have you spoken to Joel yet?" she asks quietly. Wiping her fingertips across the bartop.

You stare at her blankly; the audacity of this woman boggles your mind.

"No," you respond curtly.

"Okay, well, when you do, come and find me. We'll have a lot to discuss." She states matter-of-factly, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Before you have the chance to give her a piece of your mind, she is walking away from the bar, her long auburn hair swishing to her lower back. What the fuck is her problem?

You try to get through the rest of your day without dwelling on the conversation you had with Jenna, focusing more on the impending conversation you are going to have with Joel this evening. Thinking about what you were going to say to him, how you were going to explain how you felt, and how hurt you have been over the last few days.

You lock up the bar and head towards home for the evening, taking a little more time than you usually would, feet dragging, dreading the fight that would likely ensue once you had spoken to him. You tell yourself you will keep a level head, but you know deep down your temper would not allow that to happen if he gave you some bullshit excuse.

As you approach the small, snow-covered pathway that leads to the back porch of your home, you pause there, unable to bring yourself to go inside. So you take a seat on the second step and watch the flurries of fluffy snow as they make their way through the air to join the pillowy blanket that covers everything in sight.

You sit there for what feels like hours. Jackson was always quiet; it needed to be in order to keep what you have here safe, but as you sit in the darkness, the only light coming from the dim porch light and the light seeping through the thin linen curtains from the living room, it feels eerily silent and still. The sound of the backdoor creaking open made you jump. The heavy footsteps that followed, however, were all too familiar.

"You gonna stay out here all night?" He asked quietly, his voice low and soft.

"No, I was just… well, I don't really know what I was doing." You offer a small laugh, void of any humour.

Joel takes a few steps and groans loudly as he lowers himself to join you where you sit. He is quiet for a few moments until he finally speaks.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the other night and how it must have looked. I'm sorry for not explaining to you then and there what it was; I didn't want to tell you, and I still don't really. But I promise you on my life that it is not what you think it is, Darlin," he says softly, regret heavy in his tone.

"I don't understand Joel; I just want to understand what the fuck has been going on," you pleaded, hating how desperate your voice sounded.

"I know, baby, and I'm going to tell you. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise. I also didn't want to tell you without speaking to Ellie first, but I spoke to her at dinner, and now she understands." He assures you, his hand coming up to brush your cold cheek for the first time in days, and it was impossible not to lean into the heat of his palm.

"Okay, so now everyone knows but me, why were you all cozied up with Jenna? Why did you lie to me about going to work?" You challenged him, removing your face from his touch.

"Hold on," he huffs, shifting his weight to one hip as he fishes for something in his back pocket before continuing. "It will make more sense once you see this, or I hope it will at least," he offers as he hands you a beaten-up, leather-bound note book.

"What is this?" You ask him, you remember seeing it on the table in the bar the other night.

"Would you just open it?" he sighs, rubbing his hand through his patchy whiskers nervously.

You do as he says and open the notebook, and what you find takes you aback. The notebook is filled almost front to back with little sketches of rings and little notes about different metals and gems in his familar handwriting and another that you don't recognize.

"Wh-what is this?" You repeat, stunned. So many thoughts racing through your mind and you are beggining to realise that you have completely misread the situaiton the other night.

"I know I was going to have to tell you about it eventually, you know for your size and all but I was planning to do that after I asked you…but then with the other night I wasn't sure what to say and I was kind of pissed off that you where angry at me, I didn't stop to think that you weren't in on the secret and what it must have looked like to you," Joel's hand came to rest on your knee squeezing reassuringly as he explained the circumstances that lead to what you saw in the bar.

"I have been meeting up with Jenna over the last few weeks, she's the only blacksmith in Jackson that used to make jewelry…specifically engagement rings," he paused allowing his words to sink in before finishing his explination.

"We've been trying to figure out how to make you one, what metals mix well from what I have found on supply runs, whether to hold off if I could find a stone or a gem, or if we could make it without one,"

You stare at him, a mix of astonishment and disbelief washing over you. The pieces start to fall into place, and you realize the truth behind Joel's actions. The anger and hurt that had consumed you begin to melt away, replaced by a flood of emotions, the most promanent being embarrassment.

"You were planning to… ask me?" you stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The weight of your accusation hangs heavy in the air as you struggle to comprehend the situation.

"Yeah, I was. I've been saving up for months, looking for the right opportunity, and I wanted it to be a surprise. Jenna's been helping me because she's skilled at crafting intricate pieces. I wanted to make something special for you, something that would last a lifetime." Joel nods, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Tears well up in your eyes as the realization of your mistake dawns upon you. You reach for Joel's hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Oh, Joel, I'm so sorry," you say, your voice trembling. "I jumped to conclusions without knowing the whole story. I never thought…I feel like such a peice of shit, I'm so sorry"

"It's okay, darlin'. I should've communicated better, explained everything to you beforehand. I understand why you were upset." He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

"But why did you lie about going to work?" you inquire, still wanting to grasp every detail.

"We thought it would be best if we kept it a secret until it was ready. And I didn't want you to suspect anything. I wanted the proposal to be a surprise, and I was afraid if I told you I was hanging out with Jenna, you'd figure it out before I had the chance." He shrugged.

"Joel, I can't believe you're doing this. You've put so much thought and effort into making something special for us. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I have been so awful to you over the last few days," You let out a shaky breath, your heart filled with a strange mix of relief, shame and joy.

A soft smile graces Joel's lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Don't say that, sweetheart. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tears stream down your face now, but they're tears of happiness. You lean in and rest your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. The weight of the misunderstanding lifts, leaving behind a newfound sense of trust and appreciation.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch and for overreacting. I should have known you'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Hey, we all make mistakes, darlin'. It wouldn't be the first time I've got pissed at you for something I misunderstood now is it?." he chuckles quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I guess no ones perfect," you echo his laughter leaning into him further.

As you sit together on the porch steps, surrounded by the beauty of the snowfall, you realize that the snow isn't the only thing that's melting. The icy barriers that had formed between you and Joel are slowly thawing away, leaving behind a comfortable quiet.

"So, now that the cats out of the bag, will you…?" he asks his deep voice thick with emotion.

"Will I what handsome?" You look up at him teasing, your eyes twinkling.

A playful grin tugs at the corners of Joel's mouth as he meets your gaze. "Will you marry me, my beautiful, stubborn, and occasionally misunderstood partner in crime?" he asks, his voice laced with a mixture of nervousness and hope.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a surge of excitement courses through you. You pretend to ponder his question, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I don't know, Joel. I mean, after all that's happened, can I really trust you with my heart?" you tease, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel feigns a look of hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Oh, come on now. I've endured snowball fights, kitchen mishaps, you and Ellie ganging up on me and even your questionable taste in movies. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

Laughter bubbles up from within you, and you lean in closer, pressing your forehead against his. "Joel, you are my love and my rock. Of course, I'll marry you," you say, your voice filled with so much love.

In that peaceful moment, wrapped in the calm of the snowfall and the safety of his strong arms, you realize that there will be silly arguments, misunderstandings and cold shoulders, but you will always find your way back to each other. You let out a sigh of contentment as Joel presses silent kisses against your head, happy to sit here forever wrapped up in him.

Knowing that Joel and Ellie will forever be your guiding lights.

#joel x reader #Joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller #ellie wili #joel and ellie #joel x you #joel x y/n #Pedro pasca #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fic #fic request #mylostloversbookmarks

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lunchtimebedamned1997 · 5 days

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Vee's Studies!

(scroll to the end for timelapse :3)

I'm like, kind of obsessed with them lmao. While I've drawn Vox quite a lot (I've been working on a Vox animation thing over the last month-ish) I hadn't done much of anything when it came to Val and Vel. I knew I'd want to do something with them all later on, but I wanted to get a good understanding of their designs, shape language, and the differences between the three of them so I can play a lot more when it comes to doing them (heh) in my own style.

So, since I was most familiar (and most obsessed with out of the three lol), I started with Vox :3

While I've been working on the animation project, it had kind of been an 'adjust-as-I-go'/'let's-bullshit-this' process, rather than doing the work of understanding why certain things looked more correct than others, so I still learned a LOT from this one study. (Plus the scene makes me wheeze and I happily took the excuse to use that moment as his study reference haha)

Obviously Val is... an asshole, to really undersell it. But this is hell, his character is interesting and his design is immaculate. I think I had the most fun with studying him tbh. Without his santa wings-coat he- *coughs* - yeah. Uh. Good design. I can actually believe that Angel fell for him at one point. Manipulative bastard - sorry tangents. ANYWAY! XD

VERY fun to draw, and a very good balance within these designs of showing off character attributes but also not taking themselves too seriously (The HATS these boys wear! *wheeze* did Velvette just give up fighting them on it? I've gotta know haha)

I missed color too much by this point to make them all match perfectly, and frankly - trying to draw canon Velvette without hue differentiation is AWFUL she has so many details and overlapping elements. If I ever have to draw Vel from 1x03 again I might cry.

Something about her 1x03 look actually makes me feel viseral irritation just by seeing it (like, even b4 I made myself draw it), but then I see her in 1x08 and I wanna draw her forever???? She's so fucking cool? So fucking cute????? The duality of man ig lmao

Anyway, the TLDR is that actually being conscious of how things are represented when drawing a character can lead to surprisingly immense insight... I feel like I not only understand so much more about how to represent their characters, but also a much firmer grasp about how the shape language in the show works.

These designs are immaculate and I had so much fun. I actually have a lot more I could say about this, but my period came today and I'm tired and this post is already massive so I'll leave things here for now! But yeah! Hopefully more Vee's in the future bc I love them!

Wishing you all well! <3

#my art #digital art #fanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hellaverse fanart #hazbin hotel vox #valentino hazbin hotel #velvette hazbin hotel #vox fanart #valentino fanart #val fanart #velvette fanart #character studies #vees fanart #the vees #the vees hazbin hotel

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marketfreshfics · 9 days

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The Stratagem Strain - Part III

Plot summary: Arriving at Hogwarts for an advanced graduate program on the direct appointment of the Minister for Magic himself, Paisley Gallos anticipates a successful sixth year of classes. Unbeknownst to her, she is a pawn in a sinister ploy orchestrated long before the start of the school year.

WARNING: This chapter contains scenes of graphic violence, blood and gore.

Theophilus Harlow was never fond of taking orders, despite his immaculate delivery on the follow-through. Were it anything else besides this momentous occasion, he’d employ one of the handlers at Horntail Hall to check this mess off the to-do list. His compliance was bound to Rookwood's authority and reinforced by the occasional galleon payment. Thus, albeit warily, he resolved with a trademark determination to see this task through to its conclusion.

No stranger to the grittier aspects of his line of work, this assignment would undoubtedly earn him a prominent mention on his professional dossier. The honour was not lost on Harlow; he understood the weight of the curse that churned within his gut—a responsibility he considered both a gift and a source of potent authority. Every detail of the forthcoming endeavour had been meticulously planned, and he stood poised to initiate the chain of events with unwavering resolve.

Naturally, there was a sense of accomplishment. Pride and prestige for being entrusted with setting the components in motion, toppling the first domino, privy to watch as the rest of them fell on the next in line, the forward momentum of disaster and death brought on by his move. He could watch from his vantage point at the start of everything and see the fruits of his labour sprout, bud, flower, and decay in that kingdom of the beginning of the end. The prospect made his mouth swim.

Still, the idea of whetting his whistle with swill this evening fouled his insides.

“Mudblood little bitch.”

“What was that, boss?” The Ashwinder recruit piped up, tugging his snake-emblem bandana over his mouth and nose.

Harlow let out a curt groan. “Keep an eye out. They’ll be along any moment now, and I want to get the jump on ‘em.”

The recruit fidgeted with his wand, tossing it between his palms. "And, the plan?"

“She’ll be travelling with another student,” Harlow interjected with a steely edge. “Make quick work of them, y’hear? Can't leave any witnesses.”

The Ashwinder shifted his weight uneasily, swaying back and forth like a jittery pendulum in an attempt to quash his nerves.

Harlow sighed wearily, the weight of impatience palpable. “Oh come now, don’t bloody well tell me you’re one of those soft ones. You let an Ironbelly singe your arse hairs off, but the idea of snuffing out a mopey teenager is too much?”

“They’re just kids, boss.”

Harlow threw him a loaded cannon of glare.

The Ashwinder relented, throwing his hands up. “Alright, alright! I’ll get it done.”

Harlow sniffed the air, catching a faint lick of life on the barely-there breeze. Even through the slight mist, he could discern the subtle aroma of two heartbeats, synchronized in rhythm, growing more tantalizing with each step forward that carried them closer. It was a slow build to savour, a crescendo of anticipation, waiting for the wren to perch so the fox could snap it up. The sensation thrilled Harlow to the core, matched only by his unrelenting thirst.

As footsteps scattered pebbles on the path, marring the scent of blood with upturned dirt, an involuntary growl bubbled within Harlow's throat.

“Which one are you taking, again?” The Ashwinder wielded his wand, his gaze darting toward Harlow for guidance.

Harlow pinched the brim of his bowler hat, his gaze filled with predatory intent.

“The girl. Dispose of the boy, whatever means possible.”

It wasn’t every day that Paisley found herself comparing ratios of Bertie Botts bean flavours based on package size, but Sebastian seemed intent on making it a topic of debate, no doubt to help distract her ping-ponging fears. His freckle-dusted grin broadened before he popped another unsuspecting bean in his mouth, and his complacent expression deemed it savoury. “Honestly, I think the amount of bad versus good beans depends on how the candymaker was feeling that day.”

Paisley couldn't help but emit a derisive snort. “You cannot be serious.”

“There’s a kernel of truth to it,” Sebastian argued. “I’ve been a loyal customer to Honeydukes since my first year, even had the odd treat of stopping in before that when my parents were still around.”

A twinge of discomfort knotted her insides at the underlying tension there. Instead of addressing it, plenty dredged in the difficult anxiety of the present, she deftly changed tack. “Do they change flavour varieties often?”

“Nah.” His response was a chew of sound, of gelatin lodged between teeth. “They’ve been pretty consistent since I was a child, I’m guessing far beyond that as well. But I often wonder how they decide which boxes receive more good beans than bad." A sudden spark of animation lit up his features. "I swear, there was one week when I indulged excessively, and every box I opened contained nothing but delightful flavours! It felt like striking gold. Must have been a stroke of luck from the sweets-maker himself..." “Perhaps someone warmed his bedroll.”

Sebastian nearly choked on his candy. “That’d do it-”

The paradigm shifted so abruptly, so entirely, as Paisley was snatched up before her brain could detect the threat, a blur of broad, striped waistcoat dragging her into the dense cover of the Forbidden Forest. A silencing charm swiftly cut off her shrill scream, planned and executed with chilling precision.

And before Sebastian could even react, dropping the box of sweets to retrieve his wand, he was already dodging a blasting curse from an Ashwinder.

“Paisley?” The underlying silence behind the zips and thrums of spell barrages heading his way caused Sebastian's voice to become tense mid-battle. He prioritized shield charms, suspecting, correctly, that the dark wizard would employ some more unsanctioned forms of magic. A hex narrowly skimmed his shoulderblade, passing over the arc of his shield spell, and the Slytherin countered with Confringo.

The Ashwinder was fast on his feet, tucking and rolling in the nick of time, and as he took a moment to right himself Sebastian bolted off the main path, diverting towards the Forbidden Forest, sprinting along the dirt path and past the countless signs foreboding the danger within.

Caught in Harlow's overpowering grasp, Paisley found herself ensnared, her resistance futile against the immense force. She made twisted attempts to break away, but she was entangled in his sinister hold, her flailing movements a tragicomic dance of rebellion against an unchangeable force.

As Harlow's eerie laughter echoed through the air, Paisley's heart sank as she realized how far they had travelled in what seemed like an instant. A chilling sensation enveloped her as she struggled to make sense of their inexplicable journey, of the distance traversed in moments. Her logical mind desperately sought answers, even in the face of danger.

“Your little friend is trying to find you,” He looked at her with disdain, his breath fanning heat and horror on her face. She sensed the spell that had silenced her starting to weaken, her audible grunts of resistance serving as proof, while Harlow continued chiding her. “But I doubt he’ll be so friendly once he does. Perhaps he can be your first meal…”

“What the devil are you talking about?” Still confused by his uncontrollable power over her, Paisley mumbled under her breath as she writhed in fruitless attempts to break free. It terrified her, for more reasons than one.

Harlow grinned darkly at her, then leaned in, mouth open wide, targeting her throat.

“Diffindo!”

Paisley's spell struck Harlow point-blank, the abrupt impact freeing her. She took advantage of the moment to scuttle backwards, creating distance, but the outcome of her quick wandwork was nightmare fuel in itself. The spell shredded through his shoulder cap, flaying his skin, altering his silhouette. The sight of his exposed bone, with its pale pink and white hues, was disturbing enough, let alone the flesh torn asunder to reveal the pulsating agony beneath. The dark wizard howled more in shock than pain, exhaling forcefully through his flared nostrils as he glared knives into her.

“You bitch…”

It would have been an ideal opportunity for escape then, but as Harlow composed himself, Paisley observed in startled fascination as his shoulder miraculously started to heal right before her eyes. A network of muscle fibres wove around his humerus, connecting with the sinew of bone and nerves, while a fresh layer of skin and visceral enveloped it all, similar to wrapping meat in butcher paper. The bizarre nature caught Paisley off guard, and as Harlow approached, he smirked with irritation. “Well, that pissed me off.” He lunged toward her, but she managed to evade the forward motion, relying on her agility to navigate through the thick bramble around her. She winced as the thorny branches snagged on her forearms, leaving angry, red, weeping scratches on her skin. Her sole focus was to escape from his line of sight, so she could stun or maim him further.

Harlow's head twitched, the scant scent of blood piercing the veil of focus, and a snarl-turned roar ripped from his throat. In an instant, her attention shifted behind her, fully aware that his threat dug beyond the mere barrier of simple harm. With determination, she raised her wand and unleashed another spell, this time shooting Glacius with intent.

The freezing charm struck Harlow's dominant arm, fusing his wand to his palm. With determination, he clenched his jaw as he shook off the layer of frost, raising the conduit of his dark magic to hurl a stun toward Paisley, which she promptly dodged.

Engrossed in an intense exchange of magic, the two ventured further into the Forbidden Forest, the canopy of trees growing denser, the daylight diminishing rapidly. And despite how steadfast she was in her resolve, Paisley couldn’t help but sense that fate had already predetermined the predicament. She glowered at Harlow, before dodging a disarming spell, countering with---

“Bombarda!” Sebastian nearly swung a full rotation around a tree trunk, narrowly evading the Ashwinder's attack. With wide eyes, he observed the enemy preparing to cast another spell his way. Ducking each of his limbs behind the sprawling white oak, he anticipated the impact of the spell on the tree. As the fractured bark shattered and splinters flew outwards, he seized the opportunity to unleash a torrent of Incendio toward his attacker.

“Ah!” The Ashwinder yipped, evidence that Sebastian’s spell hit paydirt. The wizard shook off the stray flames, caught on his pant leg, but it wasn't enough to hinder. “You’ll get raked for that!” He hollered, but Sebastian was already on the move, rolling down an embankment to transition to an entirely different path, intent on confusing his pursuer as he ambled upright into a full sprint again. He refrained from looking back, as the audible crunch of gravel beneath his feet served as a constant reminder of the Ashwinder's near pursuit. Projectiles of red swiftly passed by in close proximity, his erratic running pattern seemingly far from foolish for how effective it proved, and at one point he observed that he managed to dodge a stray tail of green light from a spell he had never seen before--

“Petrificus Totalis!”

Sebastian's body went stiff, his arms rigid at his sides, and he collapsed to the ground, letting out a pained groan as he felt the sting of broken skin along his forehead. The shit-eating grin of the Ashwinder evolved to a guffaw, much to Sebastian's chagrin. He approached Sebastian, panting with self-assured swagger, as if he had just proven himself by outsmarting a student. “About time you stopped trying to scurry off, little rat.”

The dark wizard nudged Sebastian’s petrified form and rolled him over, rendering him face-up. He sneered down with disdain in a sordid, pathetic demonstration of authority. “I’ve got you now…” Sebastian sensed the wane of the petrification charm, though he remained motionless, not letting a single breath escape. Drawing upon his duelling experience, he awaited the moment when the unsuspecting Ashwinder would raise his wand, providing patience over power. There would be one opportunity, no more; with the incoming Expulso spell at such proximity, the sheer force of impact alone would likely stop his heart.

Once the spell manifested, Sebastian immediately flicked his wand upwards, uttering, “Protego!”

As expected, the shield deflected the spell. It ricocheted and returned to the caster, sending the dark wizard flying backwards in a somersault through the air. His cry came to an abrupt halt as he collided with the nearby cliff face, a sickening crunch sealing his fate.

Wholly unprepared to investigate after the Ashwinder remained still for several heart-wrenching seconds, Sebastian pivoted on his heel in the direction where his newfound companion had been taken away. He hoped above all else that the last of his luck had not run up just then.

Luck was not generous to Paisley. Her competencies in magic combat were remarkable, with spellwork finessed from dedication to her craft, Still, she was not prepared to take on Harlow, deftly avoiding her spells and leaving her in frustrated awe of his dexterity. He appeared to defy the laws of physics with every blurred sidestep, and Paisley couldn't help but wonder whether he had enhancement beyond what mere mortals could achieve.

“Accio!”

Paisley was abruptly pulled airborne towards her kidnapper, who yanked her wand from her dominant hand with a grin before she hit the ground. Her struggle only amused her impromptu captor, his smirk a testament to dominance.

Harlow caught Paisley’s leg, and despite her kicks and thrashes, his inhuman strength managed to keep a hold of her, dragging her through the underbrush without cause or care for the scrapes and bruises she acquired along the way. “Let, me, go!” She grit through a clenched jaw, curling her torso upright to claw his arm, anything to get him to release her or loosen his grip, but her attempts were met with cruel indifference.

“Ah, a fighter are ye?” Harlow’s snide remark sunk in, wholly entertained as he pinned her to the dirt with an elbow pushing between her ribs, forcing the air from her lungs faster than she could welcome it in. “ That’s good, you'll need it… but for now, you’re just makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be, kid.”

His mouth opened wide, angled at her neck, his intentions clear. When the realization hit, panic surged through Paisley, her cries of terror rending the air as she pleaded for salvation, her mind racing with thoughts of escape, of rescue. Had Sebastian managed to escape from that other wizard?

In the depths of her terror, Paisley clung to a desperate hope, a fervent wish that she alone would bear the weight of the impending tragedy. It was a selfish plea amidst the chaos of her ordeal. She prayed, with every fibre of her being, that she would be the sole victim of Harlow's depravity this fateful evening. For in that moment of anguish, the alternative was too monstrous to contemplate — the thought of another soul enduring the same fate, the same agony, was a burden far too heavy at this moment. And so, amidst the turmoil that harassed her hopeless soul, she clung to that solitary hope, a fragile thread of solace in the darkness that threatened to consume her whole.

His razor-sharp incisors lacerated her jaw as he missed his mark once, twice, then thrice, still a novice to feeding on something so alive and virile.

Paisley was determined to thwart his progress, writhing and coughing through the pinch point of his arm to her chest. Harlow muttered an expletive, withdrew his wand, and prodded her chin.

“Arresto Momentum!”

Paisley was rendered immobile, and her fate was sealed.

Harlow gave no pause or reprieve, finally biting into Paisley’s throat.

Suction pulled her jugular into his mouth, and he consumed her blood, her accelerated pulse practically flushing it to him willingly, as each heartbeat became a morbid offering. Paisley's final scream rent the air as the stopping charm faded, its fruitless attempt at intervention fading into obscurity, and the darkness swallowed her gargled pleas.

At that moment, Sebastian let the echo of her howl guide the way, his heart clenched with a mixture of dread and despair. The flicker of hope that sustained him faltered, its fragile flame threatened by the relentless onslaught of despair, like the first unsuccessful attempt to blow out a candle, bending the flame to near extinguishment.

“No…” A cold dread settled over him in a suffocating shroud. Sickening certainty assured him that his intervention would come too little, too late, a bitter realization. The burden of self-doubt bore down upon him with crushing force, doubling his center of gravity until he felt liable to collapse under its oppressive weight. He couldn’t manage to keep a classmate safe on a routine trip to Hogsmeade; what good was he for even attempting to cure his sister? Paisley’s already sapped strength was being let out entirely, her heartbeats slowing, her lungs rendered dormant. But for all the pain of holding on, therein lay a tranquil acceptance of the inevitable. As her life came to a close, she felt a strange sense of peace wash over her, as if the forest itself conspired to cradle her in its embrace. In the stillness of that fateful moment, the spectre of death loomed ever closer, its gentle whispers beckoning Paisley forth with a solemn invitation, and it was an all too familiar friend in the end.

And yet, amidst the darkness, a yearning stirred within her.

Oh, how she wished she could see the stars one last time…

Before she lost consciousness, she witnessed Harlow slash his finger, inserting it into her mouth, and then spreading his blood across her tongue. Fortunately, at that point, she lost the ability to taste.

And then Paisley slipped into the very last sleep she would ever experience.

#the stratagem strain #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy oc #sebastian sallow #paisley gallos #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt #amit thakkar #garreth weasley #natsai onai #hl fanfic #hl fanfiction #hogwarts au #hogwarts fanfiction

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crowtrobotx · 4 months

Text

A small Christmas gift for @vodkafolie who is AMAZING and always drawing such beautiful things that I can never repay because toddlers with chewed up crayons put me to shame. But I can write stupid little unfunny drabbles - I hope you enjoy your little Across the Heisenverse gift! ❤️ I am smashing our OCs together like Barbie dolls and making them be friends. 😤

(Hazel and Toast belong to Vodka, Lottie and Kris belong to me)

Title: Metal & Ginger

Words: 1742

Warnings: None unless you’re not cool with cursing

(Apologies for any weird formatting, I am on mobile and fighting for my life)

“Are they still having a go at it out there?”

“Yep. Looks like my Karl took a snowball to the face… yours lost his hat somewhere. Haven’t killed each other yet, though.”

“Think we should intervene?”

“Nope.”

“Good - me neither.”

Kris smirked and turned away from the frosty kitchen window, fresh coffee in one hand and tea in the other. Hazel sat cross legged on the living room floor, roaring fire to her back, lightly biting her tongue as her focus returned to the task at hand: the already huge and growing larger by the second gingerbread house occupying half of the coffee table. She was so engrossed in perfecting the details of the immaculate candy garden she’d made that Kris had half a mind to offer her a spare pair of tweezers to help ensure not a single sprinkle was out of place. It was a damn shame that the thing would be eaten and destroyed within seconds of the Karls returning.

The Karls. Kris shuddered. It was a horrifying phrase, one that had Hazel not been present to corral her own diabolically insane engineer might have finally sent Kris to the loony farm. Kris had grown so used to totally unhinged happenings that when, earlier that same morning, she’d stepped outside to see if Karl was done in the garage and ready for the Mom Mandated Family Holiday Activity Day only to find a swirling dimensional portal in her backyard along with a slightly differently dressed Heisenberg swearing at the top of his lungs and a very exhausted woman holding an overly perturbed chicken, she’d barely reacted. She only rolled her eyes and gestured for the woman to come inside from the cold with her bird, leaving the two men to hurl accusations at one another over whose experiment exactly had gone wrong and who exactly was responsible for the tear in time and space that would surely have the city sending them a strongly worded letter.

And here they were, several hours later, having a fine time, thank you very much.

“Lottie, bug, are you sure you don’t want any more hot chocolate?” Kris turned her attention to her nearby daughter once she’d settled down comfortably on the floor across from Hazel.

Lottie, positioned at the head of the coffee table, only shook her head. She was staring with a sort of frenzied, wide eyed fascination at the chicken, who sat puffed up behind the gingerbread house like an overly critical construction overseer. Pinky the rat peeked out of her overalls pocket, content to mindlessly chew on his hard boiled egg snack - something that Kris was almost certain had come from the bowl in the fridge labeled “for Christmas - DO NOT EAT,” but that was a battle she simply did not have the energy for today.

Hazel paused her meticulous sugar powdering along the candy floss hedges to lay a gentle hand on Lottie’s shoulder. Kris found herself admiring the floral embroidery on her jacket again, wondering when the best time to unleash the full madness of her own fiber art habit on her new friend might be and how many extra sweaters and scarves she could convince the woman to leave with.

“Lottie, I’m sorry, this must be very strange for you. Seeing your Papa argue with his, er…. clone. I promise they’ll get it sorted soon and this will all just be a funny memory.”

At last, Lottie seemed to snap from her poultry hypnosis and looked at Hazel with a sort of profound confusion. “It’s not weird,” she insisted. “Papa fights people all the time. He fought the neighbor because he brought Mama some soup when she was sick. He fought the grocery store cashier because he said Mama’s outfit was nice. He tried to fight the mailman last week because he waved at Mama too long while walking by—“

“OKAY,” Kris slapped her knees. “I really should get back to decorating the little gingerbread occupants, don’t you think? What’s the point of a house with no one to live in it, after all.”

Hazel sat back, either used to her own Karl’s overprotective nature or wisely choosing to stay out of it. She’d only just began to pick up where she’d left off before groaning in exasperation.

“Well, there goes the shed roof again… pass the piping bag, would you, Kris?”

“Sure - here you go. I suspect I might know the culprit behind your architectural woes, though.”

Hazel nodded knowingly before throwing an accusatory glance at Toast, whose beak was suspiciously speckled with gingerbread crumbs. The bird looked rather proud of herself, an expression that - had Kris not known better - said ‘and I’d do it again.’

Moments passed before there was more shouting from outside, the two men clearly no closer to resolving their issues.

“Well you’re the one who fucked it up! You figure it out!”

“Me!? How do we know it wasn’t your dumbass who forgot to tighten a bolt somewhere?”

Hazel and Kris exchanged withering glances, but said nothing.

Lottie, after carefully setting Pinky and his egg on Karl’s recliner, crawled forward to inspect Kris’s work so far on the gingerbread people. There were five - one to represent each human occupant and guest. Fortunately, Kris had baked extra in the event of a mishap - though, the mishap she’d anticipated was “Karl ate three of them before they even got around to decorating” and not “the convergence of two universes occurring on the lawn at 10am.” She was working on her cookie self now, carefully piping her curls and debating how much of her sleeve tattoo she wanted to portray.

“You know what’d be fun?” Lottie poked her head under Kris’s arm, putting on her best innocent child eyes. “If we all made each other. Like, I’ll make Papa, the other Papa can make Miss Chicken—“

“Her name is Hazel, honey,” Kris interjected. Hazel mumbled a hasty it’s fine, I can be Miss Chicken before Lottie continued, unbothered.

“—you’ll make me, and Papa can make you!”

“That’s a sweet idea, bug. But unfortunately Papa is banned from depicting me in any art form after an incident that happened when we tried this before you were born.”

Hazel looked up and met Kris’s eyes. “Don’t tell me - he went into, ah… way too much detail?”

Kris’s shoulders slouched in defeat. “Anatomically correct gumdrop boobs, I’m afraid.”

Hazel nodded knowingly.

The side door of the house banged open suddenly as Kris’s Karl stormed in first, followed closely by Hazel’s. They looked like two alley cats who’d gotten in a tussle, but at least less manic than before. Hazel sat up expectantly.

“Did you get it figured out?”

“Yeah,” her Karl threw an accusatory glare at Kris’s. “But the damn thing needs to reboot which will take at least another hour. Then we can get out of this weird hell hole - the fuck you say this place was called?”

“Ohio,” Kris’s Karl snarled in barely concealed annoyance.

“Well. We’re not in any hurry,” Hazel called, before patting the empty pillows to her left. “Why don’t you two come and help us finish this?

The two men glared at one another - Kris wouldn’t have been surprised at this point if they’d stuck their tongues out, frankly - before stalking over to the living room and plopping down, both no doubt ready to start eating their partners’ hard work before it was done.

Lottie scrambled into her father’s lap and excitedly began pointing out the parts she’d made, while Toast - who had been leaning ever close to the delicious shed again, neck extended to a near comical degree - suddenly clucked in fury and leapt off the table to situate herself between her own Karl and Hazel in a sort of avian Make Room for Jesus gesture. Predictably, Hazel had to immediately slap her Karl’s hand away from disturbing the perfect M&M garden path she’d crafted.

“What the fuck’s the point of making it if we can’t eat it?”

“Didn’t say you can’t eat it, but you have to admire it first,” Hazel said indignantly.

“Well, how long I gotta look at it for?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m satisfied,” was all Hazel offered. She smirked at Kris who gave a wink in return - they each respected the particular variety of strength that was born from having to handle This Particular Man.

“Karl,” Kris turned to her own husband. “I didn’t get to finish the gingerbread garage on this side - why don’t you do the honors since it’s your favorite room? We can just take this part out here and—“

“That’s a load bearing wall, Mama” Lottie rolled her eyes in mock indignation. “You can’t just take it out.”

“Yeah! You tell her, Butterfly!” Kris’s Karl puffed his chest out with pride at his daughter’s engineering prowess. She shot him a furious look before he followed up with a hastily mumbled “s-sorry, babe.”

Toast clucked approvingly.

“You know,” Hazel ventured after a long pause. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the portal just… remained operational. It doesn’t have to be on all the time, but you never know when you might need to do some shopping… in a parallel reality.”

“I agree,” Kris said. “Or when you might need to borrow vegetables from… a very specific garden.”

“Or take a feral little child to the park together.”

“Or bitch over a warm beverage about whatever unholy fusion of human and machine your man concocted this time—“

“Are you two gonna kiss?”

If the look he’d gotten from Kris before could kill, her Karl was lucky this one didn’t erase him and his entire bloodline.

“Okay, we get it,” Hazel’s Karl grumbled finally. “As long as I don’t have to see him all the time - handsome fucker, though he is.”

“Indeed,” Kris’s Karl sniffed. “I suppose I can put aside your clearly inferior intelligence for my wife’s sake - call it Holiday Spirit. I’m feeling generous.”

“Well, isn’t that nice - too bad your genetics weren’t generous with brain power since it’s clearly your fault that the reactor blew—“

“Oh, here we go again! Trying to deflect from the fact that you admitted your motherboard was on the fritz—“

“I don’t like your beard.”

“It’s YOUR beard, jackass!”

Kris and Hazel met each other’s eyes before wordlessly and carefully sliding the gingerbread house to the other end of the table, resuming their task in blissful peace

“Merry Christmas, Hazel.”

“And you.”

#okay to reblog I just don’t know if this is too niche/specific for the main tags lol

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sgkophie · 2 years

Text

Man's World - Chapter 4 - Heat? I Eat Chilis Raw

Pairing: Female!Leclerc reader x Carlos Sainz Jr

Warnings: slow burn, eventual Smut, enemies to lovers

Rating: Mature

AN: Did we like the Carlos POV from the last chapter? I think I might add some more Carlos POV if we think its fun! Thanks for all the lovely comments and messages - make me so excited to post!

Mini Synopsis: Georgia Leclerc is one of Bugatti's two female drivers. As the newest team in Formula 1, Bugatti has a lot to prove - especially since Team Principal Isabelle Binotto has decided to make the team a pre-dominantly female run team - from race engineers all the way to drivers. But even though Georgia has had an impressive start to her career, the press have labeled her a sassy hot head, nothing like her twin brother Charles.

With sponsorship money on the line, Ferrari and Bugatti come up with one solution – fake a relationship between Georgia and Carlos with the hopes that the Sponsors will see the drivers in a new light. An easy task – if the drivers didn’t hate each other.

Check out the full intro synopsis here!

------------

Thursday morning arrived and much like Wednesday, it was full of more publicity stunts and small media stories. We did a visit to the local children’s hospital in the morning, which was pleasant. I had always loved children and visiting the children’s hospital and speaking to the young girls truly brightened my day. That is, until we got to the track and Lizzie reminded me that I had a track walk with Carlos scheduled after the mandatory Drivers meeting run by the FIA.

I wanted this FIA conference to last forever, but to my dismay, this one ended up being one of the shorter ones. Before I left for the Ferrari garage, Lizzie slid another index card into my hand with even more questions – because the other ones had gone so well last time, I mused to myself. I thanked her and headed off with my Bugatti hat and Ray Ban sunglasses. Figured they might remind Carlos what was at stake, and if it got under his skin, then even better.

When I arrived at the garage I smiled sweetly, waving at Mattia Binotto, the Ferrari team principal and husband to Isabelle. “You here to see Charles?” He asked, a nice little twinkle in his eye. It took everything within me not to roll my eyes at him. The bastard knew I was here to see Carlos, but he wanted me to say it.

“No, actually Carlos promised me a little walk around the track,” I said casually, “plus I figured it would be a good time to get all the details on this weekend’s Ferrari strategy,” I added with a wink. His face told me he didn’t think the last part of my sentence was particularly funny, but I didn’t care – Susie Wolff would get a good laugh out of it.

Mattia nodded and gestured for me to come with him. The Ferrari garage was beautiful, and well designed. I was impressed, but I guess that’s what decades upon decades of Formula 1 races got you – a well oiled machine.

As we approached Carlos’ room, I knocked on the door gently.

“Come in,” he said and I entered. I’m not sure what I was expecting from Carlos’ driver room, but it definitely wasn’t this. I suppose I was expecting whatever I saw when I walked into Charles’ room – an absolute mess. But instead, I was greeted with what could only be described as serial killer cleanliness. His room was in immaculate shape.

He must have noticed the shock on my face. “Not all men are slobs like your brother.”

I wanted to retort something sassy back to him, but in all honesty, it was good to see. “Shall we go?” I responded.

He nodded and we exited the garage, heading towards the track. The Miami track was brand new to F1 in 2022, so several of the teams were out, walking around the track and analyzing everything from the curbs to the width of the straight. As we continued to walk down the track, I saw a bright color papaya shirt up ahead of us.

“Danny!” I called out, causing the papaya shirt to turn around. Carlos groaned, clearly not interested in chatting to Danny, but I ignored him.

“If it isn’t Little Ms. Sassy Leclerc,” he said, running up and giving me a big hug, lifting me ever so slightly off the ground. He nodded to Carlos, who nodded back, doing his best to avoid his eyes anywhere but Daniel’s face.

“Enjoying Miami?” I asked. I knew Daniel lived in Los Angeles, and he visited to Miami often, but there was still no hiding his excitement every time he visited the city.

“It’s marvelous as always. How about you, Carlos, enjoying the deeply rooted Spanish culture and cuisine?” Daniel knew the answer; there wasn’t a cultured bone in Carlos’ body as far as either of us were concerned, but it was still fun to watch Carlos squirm.

Carlos only nodded, clearly looking around the track, searching for a way out of this conversation. Where was Lando when he needed him?

“So Lando says you’re all going to drinks this evening. That sounds fun.” I knew Daniel was itching for an invite, but we needed to sell this an in intimate drinks between a couple and their two closest friends.

“Don’t worry, we’ll save the good drinks for Sunday once we celebrate my win,” I said winking at him. He grabbed my shoulder playfully, giving me his big Daniel laugh.

“Well, if we’re going to get to these drinks this evening, we better finish this track walk,” Carlos let out bitterly, clearly done with this conversation.

I nodded. There was still a lot to do before tomorrow’s Free Practice sessions. We finished the rest of our track walk in complete silence. As we passed Pierre on the way out of the track and back to the pitlane, he waved at me, giving me a little squeeze on my arm and a wink as he walked by. I gave him a look that said, “please, god, save me” but he was gone before I could force him to talk to me.

I dropped Carlos back off at Ferrari and headed back to the Bugatti garage.

“Have a nice track walk?” Susie asked, raising her head from her computer screen. I gave her a look that, in my opinion, said it all. She chuckled and handed me an iPad. “Here, go finish reviewing the track with the analysis. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” I spent the rest of the afternoon at the track, reviewing the track analysis and discussing various race strategies with the team.

“Alright Georgie,” I heard from behind. I set the iPad down and turned to see Lizzie, all smiles and bubbles as usual. “Ready to go conquer the world!?” She asked.

“You mean ready to go feed the media dragon?” I asked sarcastically, raising one eyebrow at her.

“Same thing,” she quipped back. I laughed – never a dull moment with Lizzie.

We made our way to the media center where all the other drivers were waiting. Truth be told, these media days were some of the better ones because at least I had 4 other drivers in the conference room with me. They always split us up between 4 groups, five drivers per session - so you were never with your teammate. If a couple of drivers had a crash last race, the FIA would also put them together. The more drama, the better, especially if Netflix was filming that press conference for Drive to Survive.

Typically the FIA put Charles and I together. They enjoyed the sibling banter back and forth, although they learned their lesson when they once added Lando into our session. I don’t think the media got any of their questions answered, and Lando spent half the interview in literal fits of laughter.

I walked into my segment and of course sitting next to my seat was Carlos. Oh FIA, how you never let me down, I thought to myself sarcastically. Undoubtedly there had been some whispers in the paddock after our dinner last night and track walk together. While it hadn’t blown up on social media, the team was expecting this press conference and tonight’s drinks session to give us the push forward that everyone wanted – well, everyone except Carlos and I.

I nodded at Carlos, who got up and gave me a mini hug. “Twice in one day, cariño, lucky me,” he said quietly, but not quiet enough so that the front row of journalists couldn’t hear. I just smiled and sat down, thankful that Lewis was to my right. He gave me a fist bump and a knowing look. Nothing got past the 7-time world champion. From my understanding, Lorenzo had filled him and Sebastian in on the drama because they were the most likely to say something to me about it, and they were always the first two drivers to defend me during bad press interactions.

The conference started with the usual questions on the track and what we all thought about the FIA’s new jewelry ban. Soon the conversation moved onto the heat of the afternoon and the weather. Miami in June was known for rain, and tomorrow’s weather report was inconclusive, as Susie Wolff had said. It would either be blistering heat, or pouring rain. No in between.

“So Georgia, how does it feel to be back in America, racing Formula 1 cars?”

This was a simple question, I told myself, I could answer this. Nice and easy… but as I went to answer I could feel my hands start to clam up. I looked to my right and saw Lewis, who was smiling brightly at the camera, but I could see his eyes shift ever so slightly towards me. He wiggled his finger at me as if to say, “you got this kid.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s nice to be back.”

The journalist nodded at me. “Since you’ve raced in the South before, do you think you’ll be ready for the heat tomorrow? I heard several of the drivers dropped several pounds today due to the heat.” It was true, the heat was bad and I had left the car considerably lighter then when I had went in.

I wanted to roll my eyes a bit – they had neglected to ask Lewis, Carlos or Yuki if they could stand the heat in the car, but I decided not to let it bother me. Still, I guess my internal conflict was taking too long because before I could answer I heard Carlos say, “Please… I can’t think of anyone more prepared to fight the heat – last night at dinner I literally saw her eat a chili pepper raw,” he joked, turning to me and winking.

I turned to face Carlos, my face clearly a little shocked. I could feel myself blushing, a slight heat rushing to my face. To my right I heard Lewis giggle, followed by Yuki and Alex. I saw Alex wink at me, clearly getting Carlos’ inuendo.

Carlos nickname was Chili, a sort of joke from his childhood that had spun up into a fan favorite name used not only his entire family, but also the F1 community. Everyone knew him as Chili; his helmet even had a red chili pepper on it.

If the journalist also got the joke, he didn’t say anything, although he did let out a laugh. “Fair enough,” I heard him say.

The rest of the conference went well. Fortunately, the journalists let me off with just a few more easy questions, which after Carlos slightly embarrassing response, actually felt fairly easy to answer. I guess Susie was right – Carlos was good at media, and I could use the help.

-----------------

Lizzie met me inside of my drivers room once the press conference was over. Typically she would walk me back to the garage after the conference, but a meeting with Coco, Carlos’ manger, had distracted her.

“Right, Georgia, time to head back to the hotel and get ready for drinks tonight,” Lizzie said, popping her head into my drivers room. Chris, my personal athletic training, just wiggled his eye brows at me and helped me off the massage table.

“Ah yes, another date with the infamous, but devilishly handsome, Carlos Sainz,” he chimed in. I rolled my eyes at both of them. I knew Lizzie was secretly loving this. Chris, on the other hand, was openly loving this far too much.

I grabbed the keys to my Bugatti and bag from the table and headed to the parking lot. As I was getting into my car, I saw Lando pass by, waving his hands at me. I rolled down my window and he gave me the world’s biggest high five.

“Not the hands, Lan, gotta save those for driving tomorrow,” I quipped.

“I don’t know, Georgia, as far as I see it, if I remove you from the grid, I get to move up a spot,” he joked.

I simply waved my hands at him and yelled, “See you tonight, loser.”

Drinks tonight were to be at a bar fairly close by. Again, Carlos was to pick me up and drive us to the bar in his Ferrari. This time I had grumbled about why we always had to take his Ferrari, especially since I actually knew how to drive in America, but I was told to shove it and move on. Apparently no one in my all female team had wanted to hear about the sexism of a woman constantly being told she couldn’t drive to dates. Isabelle gave me a look that told me to give up, so I did.

You win some, you lose some.

I decided not to be late to meet Carlos this time. Truth be told, I was excited to see Charles and Lando, and figured the quicker I got there, the quicker I could start ignoring Carlos’ presence. I put on a cute top with some new jeans that Luisa, Lando’s girlfriend, had given me.

I met Carlos again at the front of the hotel. He was wearing a nice, purple button down shirt. Of course he decided to wear my favourite colour; guess someone was listening during last night’s ‘question time’. As much as I hated to admit it, he looked really good in the purple button down and Lucky branded jeans. As I approached he looked up at me and smirked, obviously noticing me staring at him.

Cocky bastard. Fine, Georgia 1: Carlos 1. Well, maybe .0.5

When we arrived at the bar, I immediately ran up to Charles and gave him a big hug. My anger from Tuesday had simmered down, and we had managed to get a few more chats in throughout the last two days. Lando gave Carlos a big hug, which surprised me. I knew the two were friends since they were teammates for two years at McLaren, but I didn’t realise they were ‘hugging friends.’ Figured they were more, ‘friends because we had to be’. Plus, Lando was friends with everyone. You could give him a rock and he’d manage to make it his best friend.

“Carlos, Georgia, good to see you both,” Lando said, wiggling his eyes suggestively at the two of us. He quickly stopped when he saw both of our faces. I have no idea what expression Carlos had on his face as he looked at Lando, but I imagined it looked like mine – unimpressed and disinserted in Lando’s antics.

Charles laughed awkwardly, ever the peacekeeper of the group. As the teammate to Carlos and my twin brother, I have no doubt that he wanted to play the situation very delicately. The four of us took a seat at the table, Carlos and I sitting together with Lando and Charles across from us.

“So, how is the car feeling for tomorrow, Lando?” I asked.

“Breaks are going to be rough with the heat, but we’re hoping for some kind of breakthrough,” he replied, a tint of sadness in his voice. Lando loved McLaren, but the car they had given him just wasn’t up to his ability – at least not yet, as he would say.

I nodded. “It’s going to be willfully hot this weekend, not looking forward to it. Whoever thought racing in Miami in May was a good idea should be fired.” Lando and Charles chuckled. I supposed Carlos was more used to the heat, having grown up in the warmth of Spain. At least, he never seemed concerned about it.

As we chatted some more, a group of guys came up to us and asked for a photo. Here it was – our big moment as a small group. Needless to say, these kinds of photos always made it across social media. By tomorrow, everyone who was interested would have a photo of the four of us at this bar.

We scrunched together and before I could protest, Carlos had his hand on my waist, pulling me ever so slightly to him so I leaned into him for the photo. Before I had time to react, I smiled for the photo, remembering where we were and why we were doing this. I felt flustered all of a sudden. On one hand, Carlos fucking Sainz had touched me and I was annoyed, but on the other hand, Carlos Sainz had touched me – and in a way that I hadn’t been touched in a long time. His movements were soft and sweet. I hated to admit it to myself, but it felt nice. As the group thanked us, I noticed several other people around us sneaking photos of our group. I guess after the commotion of the first photo, people had started to notice us. Carlos let his hand slip from my waist, but kept it on my back, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. Not enough to where it was super noticeable, but enough where with all these photos of us, someone would capture the moment.

I can see why they paired me with him. Without even saying a word, Carlos was a master at manipulating both the fans and the media. While those absolutely closest to us, like Lando, Charles and Danny, knew this was a farce, to the rest of the world, we were this close group of friends – with some of us becoming closer than others.

“Peaches? …Earth to Georgia?” I all of a sudden snapped out of my thoughts and turned towards Charles, who was looking at me. “Want another beverage?”

“No, thanks, I’m good. I already broke my no alcohol rule twice this week – no need to push it before Free Practice tomorrow.”

“Always focused on racing – do you ever relax?” mused Carlos.

“Yes, after I win,” I quipped back. He scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance at that comment, but let it go.

The boys each got one more beer, and then we closed the tab. We continued to chat a bit more about our cars and the track, keeping it light and easy. Lando, Charles, and Carlos discussed a bit of golfing that they had done earlier in the week. Once the beers were drunk, we all got up and Carlos and I head back to his Ferrari. I hugged Lando and Charles good-bye and wished them both luck tomorrow, as it would be unlikely I’d see either of them before the Free Practices sessions.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, but at this point, all of our rides together were quiet.

“Here’s an interesting question,” I said, breaking the silence and pulling out the piece of paper Lizzie had given me earlier in the day. “Who is the most important person in your life?” There was an awkward silence. Perhaps I had asked a question too personal, but Carlos didn’t strike me as someone who much cared about that kind of stuff.

“My father,” he said suddenly. I motioned for him to continue, but he didn’t, so I just nodded. I understood that. I came from a very close family, and before our father had died, he was my #1 supporter.

“I guess I would have said the same when our father was here,” I said with a gentle sigh. “Currently its all of my brothers; my family is the best thing to happen to me.”

Carlos took a moment, as if he was thinking about my answer. “Surprised you didn’t just say Charles; you two are always joined at the hip,” he sneered. I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I just scoffed.

“I love all my brothers equally,” I snipped back. Asshole.

“Of course you do,” I heard him whisper under his breath. As much as I wanted to say something, I thought against it and let us continue the rest of the ride in miserable silence.

Friday – Miami GP

The weather on Friday wasn’t quite so brutal, quite being the operative word here. The weather was rough, but the clouds had given us some shelter. When I arrived at the track, the paddock was buzzing with excitement. There were cameras and fans and media everywhere. I waved to a few of the cameras, but made a b-line to my garage as quickly as I could.

As I entered the garage, I stepped into my drivers room, only to see Lily, Chris and Lizzie all circled around Lizzie’s phone.

“And to what do I owe this honour?” I asked.

Lily’s squealed a bit, clearly eager to tell me what was going on. “Your little stunt worked – look at these photos of you and Carlos!” I hobbled over to the desk where they were all huddled and took a look. There we were – Carlos and I at the restaurant – both drinking our wine and staring into each others eyes. I knew that couple next to us were taking photos of us, I thought to myself. As I scrolled down the Instagram feed, I saw countless photos of me and Carlos – both at the restaurant and then at the bar from last night, including photos his arm around my waist and on my back. Such little touches that meant so much to everyone.

“Looks like your little plan is working,” Chris chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. “The fans seem to love the two of you.” I rolled my eyes. Of course they did.

“Oh, look at this one! The dinner date looks so romantic,” Lily said, sighing a little, as if she was jealous of this ridiculous conspiracy I was now apart of. “It even says you’ve been dating for weeks – now that speaks to your chemistry.” She winked at me, clearly aware of how much she was getting under my skin.

“Did you happen to ask him any of the questions I wrote out for you?” Lizzie asked, eager to see if her plan for us to get to know each other was working. I just nodded, attempting to make it clear that I had no more interest in discussing this.

“Annnddddd…?” Chris looked at me, clearly wanting to know more about this new, mysterious boyfriend that had been thrust upon me.

“I learned he likes the color red,” I responded simply.

“Good thing I put you in that red dress then,” Lizzie said winking. With that, she, Lily and Chris burst out laughing. “He must have thought he had died and gone to heaven!”

“I doubt it,” I quipped back. Little did they know. Carlos probably thought the red represented the hell he was also in.

“Now if you don’t mi-“ I began, but before I could continue, Chris pulled up a new Instagram post.

“Now look at this one!” I motioned for Chris to read it for me. I think I had seen enough social media for one morning.

“It says ‘Rumour has it Georgia Leclerc has moved on with a new driver in the paddock – Carlos Sainz. Sources tell us that rumoured ex-boyfriend Pierre Gasly is fuming at the match.’” At that, I rolled my eyes and let out the biggest groan I had ever heard myself utter. Apparently I had better luck getting fake boyfriends than I did real ones, since I’d managed to snag two fake ones in just a couple of days vs. my one actual real one I had when I was in America.

“I am sure Pierre will love that,” I said sarcastically. For years the media and fans had speculated that Pierre and I were dating. Sure, he was flirty and handsy and we were close enough to where it might look less than platonic, but the truth was, Pierre was my brother’s best friend – and Charles had made it very clear we were both off limits to each other, something we decided to respect.

“Well, I am glad your little publicity stunt is working, but I must be off to get ready for Free Practice.” Lily announced, getting up from her seat and giving me a small hug. “Good luck out there!” I nodded and gave her a hug back.

Free Practice Sessions 1 and 2 went okay. I came P3 in both, which, considering the heat and issue with my front wing in the second practice, I figured was okay. I was annoyed that both Max and Charles had beaten me… but at least I had beaten Carlos, who had come in P4 and P6 respectively.

After the sessions were over and I had properly reviewed the data with my race engineer and Susie Wolff, I caught the eye of Lizzie, who was motioning for me to come over. I knew what she wanted – it was time to stir the rumour mill and give the fans a little something extra.

It was time for the dreaded garage visit. Garage visit #1. If I didn’t die during this visit, I was to be sequestered to a second visit tomorrow. Just lovely.

@ferrarifwendvale @ihearttheoriginals @lightsoutpierre @starxqt @internetgremlin @ashf1 @lovingroscoee @ccloaned@xheera @markluv4u @kashee-h @questionslostinmoments @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @questionslostinmoments@jpotterdilf @oyesmendes @groovy-slytherin @hnmaga-blog @zoobabystation @opfire

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ecargmura · 7 months

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Frieren: Beyond Journey's End Episode 3 Review - Retracing Past Steps

Some people might not like slow-paced fantasy stories, but I do. I love getting immersed into the world and seeing what it has to offer. Not all stories have to get into action right away. Some stories have to take time and patience for the broader aspects to show up; that’s how I’m writing my own fantasy story right now. Frieren is a slow-paced fantasy story, but I think that’s the charm of it.

One can tell that this new journey is helping Frieren develop more. Had she been the same indifferent person she was in the past, she’d not care about Fern’s birthday and probably would have given her something worthless. However, with her regrets about not getting to know Himmel more after her first journey’s end has caused her to want to connect with people more. That is why this new journey is her wanting to retrace her past steps in order for her to learn more about her friends. She takes the first steps into getting to know Fern more and to show her apprentice that she does care. I think that Frieren is doing a good job with this; it’s obvious she’s not used to this but she’s trying. Also, I honestly thought she was going to have a brawl fight with those scary-looking adventurers at the tavern, but they were actually nice people who helped her find a good sweets shop.

This journey is also helping Fern learn more about Frieren as a person and what made her the way she is now. At first, Fern is something who is always on the lookout for her master’s reckless spending; this is evident with the way she tailed her throughout the entire day. By the end, she realized what Frieren was trying to do and accepts her kindness by putting on the hair clip as an update to her current attire. I actually like this aspect of this story too. It’s nice to see that this journey is of growth for both characters. I also like how Fern is learning more about magic from her master; they even practice even though Fern is great. I love how the constant practice of defensive magic is used here. Fern doesn’t understand why she is being taught defensive magic, but the way Frieren attacked her is similar to how Qual attacked her when they fought him. This is also another big step for Fern to learn more about her master.

I think the biggest aspect of this episode is how the past moves people forward. Frieren’s journey is to retrace her past steps in order to learn about her human companions and about humans themselves. This is evident with how she regretted not forming a stronger connection with Himmel so she decided to form a connection with Fern this time around. It’s also evident with how she insisted with making Fern learn about history so that past mistakes won’t be made again. Retracing her past steps also lead her to reawakening a demon named Qual who was too powerful that she had to seal him away. Qual is the owner of a power killing magic called Zoltrak that has caused many casualties in the past. Throughout the eighty years, humans have spent years trying to find ways to counter the spell to the point that magic has became stronger and Zoltrak has become nothing more than a simple spell. I feel like this part was Frieren trying to close one aspect of her past. I found the scene where Frieren recognized the old man with the straw hat as the boy who flipped her skirt decades ago and Himmel was freaking out because of it; one detail I liked is that Himmel was still friends with the straw hat boy decades after his adventure.

Speaking of which, the fight scene with Qual was the first time we get action and it was good! It was so well-animated with how Fern’s barriers deflect Qual’s magic, which is a call back to her training with her master from earlier in the episode. The flute that played in the background was immaculate. Seriously, flute should be in more action sequence songs! Overall, I really love how the fight scene in this episode involved two mages and they still kicked ass because they each played a role with Fern being defense and Frieren being offense. I think it was creative.

I’m anticipating on where these two will head next and what sort of fight scenes will happen. Will they be as creative as this one? One last thing before I end this review, the opening song is really getting to me now. I just need to get adjusted to the ending song now. I’ll let you know how that goes in a future review. What are your thoughts on this episode?

#sousou no frieren #frieren beyond journey's end #frieren #fern #qual #review #anime #anime review #ecargmura #arum journal

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folklauerate · 1 year

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The styling discourse made me think about what kind of style queen kate would adopt. I am not English and I am always quite baffled by the amount of articles written about the Royal Family and dress codes and being boring or too audacious etc. So what’s her style? Especially compared with her style pre engagement/wedding. (And if you want what’s the style of the various family members?) Thank you!

Thank you SO MUCH for asking because I LOVE talking fashion and I’ve been a royal style watcher for most of my life lol! I actually have spent the better part of an hour and a half pulling things and making moodboards!

To address your question about royal protocol and style and stuff; I’m going to go with what I’ve learned in the Harry and Meg doc, which is that there’s no set rule book given to them, but there are expectations that come with being a member of the royal family and you must dress accordingly! Royals will often wear pieces from local designers if they’re on tour, giving a nod to the country/city they’re in, and otherwise usually develop relationships with certain fashion houses and designers that help inform the rest of their looks. Almost all of them have a team of stylists. Royal dressing is important and Kate is going to learn to be incredibly intentional about it because what she wears has the power to potentially change a designer’s life, given that it’ll usually sell out quickly, and because it can be a way to shed light on important causes sartorially.

Royals AU Kate’s on-duty style is going to be really informed by Queen Letizia of Spain and Meghan Markle when she was a working royal. Letizia is always impeccably tailored, as though her clothes are custom made for her, and has such an eye for detail. She’s always fashionable and on trend without being gauche, she’s a very classic but elevated style, and she isn’t afraid to have fun. I picked Meghan’s royal style too because, especially during their last few working royal engagements, she was hitting it out of the park constantly! Bold colors, capes, great tailoring! I enjoyed some of her earlier royal looks, too; plenty of pants, some menswear inspired pieces (that structured jacket/blazer over a feminine self portrait dress is everything to me), and hats. It’s funny that I picked Letizia and Meg for this, since they’re both so petite and short, and Kate is not, so we’re all going to have to imagine lol.

So really classic silhouettes with unexpected/royal nods (aka capes and caplets, plenty of hats), great blowouts or wavy hair, elevated fancy businesswoman workwear type of stuff!

When it comes to her off-duty style, I had a BLAST! I think Karlie Kloss’ street style is perfect for Queen Kate off duty looks. Karlie is really tall (a bit taller than Kate but similar heights) and wears a lot of flats, along with really great fitting denim, plain t’s or sweaters that are all impeccably tailored and very fashionable, and GREAT classic coats! I think Queen Kate would wear something more daring/low cut for date nights, because she’s a modern girl and former movie star—she’s Hollywood royalty! I think the thing to remember here is she’s going to be dressing conservative but still intensely fashionable. Even her off-duty looks are coming from a highly curated wardrobe and follow a set of principles; very very immaculately tailored, structured well fitting denim, and tops/coats that look like she just threw them on and walked out of the house looking fabulous. I threw in Karlie in that fendi jumpsuit pushing a stroller for fun, because imagine Queen Kate pushing Miles around in a pram wearing that lol!

I also made a moodboard for Daphne! I think Daphne would tend to lean more Kate Middleton style, but specifically Kate Middleton during the Meghan Markle years when she upped her style game lmfao. So nothing crazy, everything is very tailored, classic, nothing “out there,” lots of blowouts (there’s a line in the second chapter about Daphne having blowouts and it was indeed a nod to Kate lol), very classic and feminine, leaning a little militaristic-inspired as Kate does sometimes with her coats!

#bridgerton #kate sharma #Daphne Bridgerton #royals au #royals au style

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oldsweetchildomeow · 7 months

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Reviewing GG character design part #2 GGX 2000 Johnny

This is for everyone who said I can't talk about other men. Hah... (no one ever said that).

This one will be long since he has one of my favorite designs.

Beforehand, Johnny's FINAL designs of choice has always been absolutely immaculate (except, obviously, for that ugly horrible gross design he has on that pachinko game for fuck sake please never put that in my sight ever). It never changed much, actually, if you look superficially at every appearance of his, you will notice no difference at all. Daisuke knew what he was doing from the start to the LGBT community and the straight females who had too much pride to admit they found him attractive.

From XX to Strive, it barely changed. But his first appearance (in-game) is the most different one.

Also I'm sorry for the amount of "whore" usage here. I just wanted to shame on him because he himself doesn't do it.

Now, again I will be using the same structure;

1. What does it tell you about him? (Johnny's case whore)

2. Is it aesthetically appealing artistically?

3. Would it be actually comfortable to fight with that?

GGX 2000

I know this is from petit but it's so cute I had to put that here for click baiting. He looks edible being this minuscule, no joke.

What does it tell you about Johnny?

Actually, many things. I must confess, the first time I played GG (which was GGXX) my eyes were LOCKED on him (and Testament, but that's for another post). He was one of the ones I played the most just because of how stylish and cool he is. That's the power of character design; I didn't know shit about this guy and suddenly I was using him to beat the shit out of my brother with his coins for hours.

I can say, even from personal experience: he exhales flamboyance, style and charisma. The guy CARES about his looks and there's no denying about that just by a mere glance. His hat matching his trench coat and pants... the small details on every bit of it, matching. The SHADES... you know only stud mfs wear shades for no reason. The shades gave it all, and there's not even a reason for him to use that if not for appearance (proving the point he cares a lot about it), because his hat is already bigger than mother Earth, big enough for the sun to not reach this guy's whore face with his whore clothes. I mean, when you see a character showing this much skin for no reason it must only mean that he has absolute no shame about it... then he's a... well.

Him being muscular isn't something unique since almost all FG male cast would be like that too (specially during that time), but his build is something that is smoothly different. He has a whore's waist. Thankfully just like Sol. But that's just because Ishiwatari has good taste in men.

He COULD button his coat but he visibly chose to have it open to show his body. Even small things like his pants being well-fitting tells you that he has some vanity to him and that he loves to show-off shamelessly. Like a good w

As for his background, he clearly reminds you a bit of two things; a tiny mix of a pirate and a cowboy (or that he's just pretending to be both). When the traditional cowboy comes into mind, the first thing I think about is big hats and flashy belts, and guess what, he has both. I think the color palette gives more the idea of a pirate, due to mostly being referenced as black and brown colors in clothing. Most pirates representation on media has unnecessary belt that they wear for no reason but to have this hugeass thing heaving your movement (because it's stylish and I admit it is, damnit).

Furthermore, the golden details around his design show wealth, which greatly emphasizes the pirate concept.

But what's the most interesting part about all that? It's his weapon of choice.

It's not even remotely something a cowboy would use, and pirate swords are definitely not like that by far. He simply uses a japanese traditional sword and fights with battou style.

This is the most unique thing about him that makes him stand out even more, specially when you compare him to any other pirate or cowboy character. Not only that, but think about other characters that you will see fighting the same style as he does, like Ukyo Tachibana from Samurai Shodown.

And just like Ukyo, he also does iaido, one of the most fascinating fighting styles; it's filled with grace and precision, and yet it's that same flamboyant whore guy doing it. That's what caught my attention the most about him, easily. It raises tons of questions about him, and you start thinking that he has more depth than simply being a cowboyish pirate.

His hair... his god bless long hair... that is no longer with us nowadays. Oh pity on me... pity on silly me who is a sucker for long haired dudes. I can't tell much. I know pirates mostly used to have long hair too, but I wanted to hold him by his ponytail and shake him from side to side, hitting every possible corner. dearly. as a love language.

Is it visually appealing overall?

YOU BET it is. Oh, how it is. It's immaculate. It's perfect. It's so simple in color choice but it's so visually functional I start trembling. I want to kiss Ishiwatari's mouth so bad for this.

Firstly, just LOOK at how smoothly his cape always flows with his movement. When I was a teenager my jaw DROPPED everytime. The black, the brown, the white, in perfect harmony... oh my god *starts trembling viciously*

It's perfect.... why did Ishiwatari have to go this hard... he was so inspired when he gave birth to Johnny.

There's a detail that's also curious. When you wear clothing that covers too much of a part of your body, it's always a more pleasurable and classy highlight, even in a sensual manner, to have an exposed area to contrast that.

An example of this would be a super long dress that covers a lot, but that same dress having a cleavage on the chest or being open in the back. Just think that if you wear very short shorts with a top that is just as short, there will be a lot of skin and little idea, little emphasis. Now if you wear long pants and a short top, you will only be showing a fraction of your body, and this is more aesthetically pleasing. It's a matter of fashion.

Johnny's case has a lot of this in an intelligent way: he wears long pants, gloves, and you barely even see his face, but he doesn't wear a SHIRT. There's a whole open area in the center of his body, which is a very well used of exposure in fashion (I even marked it in the second image)- which, also, gives emphasis to the idea of him caring about his image and being a stylish character. The fact that it's even congruent with his personality just shows how very professional Daisuke is.

Is it actually PRACTICAL to fight with that figurine?

Well, there's nothing too harmful about that overall. The fabric his pants and trench coat seems to be made of doesn't look that heavy, and he not wearing a shirt and having his coat unbuttoned gives him more mobility. And sex appeal, which can be useful if you try to distract your opponent.

His fighting style does not necessarily require movement with the entire body, so it's not an obstacle in any way. His fingerless gloves can be quite helpful due to his style as well, since holding a sword can hurt your hand a lot in the long run.

Conclusion

men's waists be so small like what do u need that small waist for? for other men to grab it? whore.

Bonus content

This is me trying to explain everything I said here to my girlfriend sometime ago, and she was in such disbelief that she took this screenshot.

#one minute of silence for johnny's deceased ponytail #guilty gear #johnny guilty gear #gg johnny

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allzelemonz · 1 year

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Gaslight Hatter: Jervis Tetch X Gender Neutral Reader

Prompt: 12 Days of AU, Historic Pronouns: None Mentioned *Reader is a cop and the first female cop in America would have just joined the force around this time so there’s no room for pronoun plot holes, use what you want Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence Warnings: Mentions of murder/serial murder, based on the comic not the movie, reader is a cop but a cool one I guess, Reader referred to as an Alice by Hatter, I hope you’ve read the book Summary: 1890s Gotham is facing a new threat after the demise of Jack the Ripper. A madman dressed as the beloved Hatter from a popular storybook who has a pension for playing dress up with the young adults of the city. As an officer working under Inspector Gordon, it’s your job to protect the people.

With rumors of a giant bat taking down Jack the Ripper crime in Gotham has been down. Playful characters like the Joker and more scary ones like Double Man have all been quiet. However, working with Inspector Gordon has made it clear that there will always be something unexpected. Rumors have been circulating that the Inspector is working with the Batman, but no one seems intent on acting on it with all of the threats that could come up. Particularly the newest one, a man dressed as a book character.

The Inspector introduced him as The Hatter, a man emulating the character of the same name from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel materials. The books had been published only a few decades ago and most people now have a deep love for them, but this man is clearly obsessed. He has kidnapped and murdered several blond citizens from the streets and dressed them up as the little girl Alice and other characters like the White Rabbit. Most of his victims have been young, around your age, those that would have grown up with the book read to them at bedtime.

His last victim was left by the docks, a young man with longer than average blond hair adorned with a blue bow and dressed in a yellow suit. As he was a grown up male Alice. Before that it was a man dressed in a waistcoat with hair burned and fried into white. Before that it was a young woman dressed as the Cheshire Cat. Every last one of them disappeared one night and reappeared a week later with an immaculately detailed costume. All of them seen as a failure on the part of Gotham’s police and its notorious Inspector Gordon.

So he assigns patrols to be doubled and warns against lawmen going after the Bat. Your patrol with your partner is one of many, a short shift in a poor part of town during the dead of night. He is nervous, evident by his fiddling with his belt buckle and the consistent glances over his shoulder.

“We’ll never find him if you keep doing that.” You mutter.

‘Then I will continue, I have no intention of running into that madman.”

“It’s our job.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy. “Our job is stopping muggers, not hysteric villains.”

A sound of a trash can hitting the ground makes your partner nearly jump out of his skin. His knuckles turn white as he grips his billy club and faces the alleyway that the noise came from. You hold an arm in front of him to calm him down. When you turn your head you see the figure that has him so spooked and draw your club as well, but the firearm on your other hip is tempting.

The figure disappears as it steps backwards into the shadows. Your partner pushes past you and runs down the alley, a sudden burst of bravery apparently taking over him. You follow, against your better judgment, but you can’t leave your partner chasing after shadows. They outpace you just enough to lose you around a corner and it forces you to make a guess as to which way they ran. By the time you catch up with them you find the Hatter standing above your unconscious partner.

He does look like the Hatter from the story in what he wears, but his stature is much different. He’s a handsome looking man with greasy hair hidden under his tall hat, a man you might mistake for a common beggar on the street. He holds a watch in his hand and sways it back and forth with a sneer on his face. It is only now that you recall the features of your partner, young and blond, a perfect Alice.

“No need for an extra Alice, deer. Run along, get out of here.”

“You’re under arrest.”

He chuckles. “No, no, no, I can’t. I have a show.”

He raises his hands above his head and widens his eyes. The sparkle in them could be wonder or craze. And his words, he rhymes.

“Let him go, get to your show.”

“There is no show without Alice!” He snaps, forgetting his rhyme. “I want him, I need him. I need an Alice” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

“Take me.” You offer.

He chuckles again. “You are no Alice! You are too mean to be Alice.”

“I’m sorry, let’s talk over tea.”

The offer tempts him, he looks at his watch and smiles. His eyes meet yours as soon as he looks away from the watch. “Your hair wants cutting.”

The look on his face seems to hint at something. A line. It’s a line from the book. It has to be. A story you’d heard many times, but the line is so specific it’s hard to find. You knit your eyebrows, mentally searching for it.

“You should learn not to make personal remarks.” You say once you land on it.

The Hatter smiles and looks at you expectantly. There’s more for you to say. You go through the scene in your head, thinking hard.

“It's very rude.” You finish, half questioning the sentence.

“Good! Very good!” He claps his hands in excitement. “You are Alice.”

“I am, Hatter. Now, please, let’s go.”

Your hand is held out to him and he smiles as he runs to you to take it. He’s giddy with excitement as he looks at you. An Alice, the Alice he’d been looking for. Better than the others and much more fun than any White Rabbit.

“We’ll have fun, won’t we, Alice?”

A grin spreads across his face and his grip on your hand tightens. You don’t notice until it’s too late, the watch in front of your eyes swaying back and forth. Your vision goes blurry, then dark. The Hatter picks you up and hoists you over his shoulder, leaving the other Alice behind.

#mad hatter #mad hatter x reader #mad hatter x gender neutral reader #mad hatter x male reader #jervis tetch #jervis tetch x reader #jervis tetch x gender neutral reader #jervis tetch x male reader #gotham x reader #gotham #gotham by gaslight #gotham by gaslight x reader #jarvis tetch #jarvis tetch x reader #jarvis tetch x gender neutral reader #au #12 days of au #historical au

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sebscore · 10 months

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ahhh thank you for asking! i’ve been travelling around europe and busying myself with projects and whatnot. june was pretty hectic so i couldn’t be on tumblr as active as i wanted to unfortunately 😭 but i missed talking to you!

i did read (and reread gentle hit), both chapters were amazing and i was so immersed in the story! i’ve typed/updated my thoughts on the first chapter below!

chapter one:

- ‘she plastered a fake smile on her face, something sebastian noticed in an instant’ his immaculate people (or in this case, y/n) reading skills, i’m in love. though it’s not hard for me to adore seb vettel lmao

- love the way you wrote lewis and y/n’s easy chemistry! i really like how you expressed their love for each other in their small gestures, whether it’s simply smiling at the other or just laughing. they’re an adorable couple, and the conflict between wanting her to stay in her blissful power couple with lewis or end up with a pining seb is perfectly set up. genius.

- just reading how angst and jealousy hit poor seb in the gut feels so visceral even though lewis and y/n’s interactions are seemingly minor, but this is magnified when you elaborated on their past. this, along with seb’s choice pushing them further from what each other would have wanted was painful (but in the best way). the fact they could’ve had everything but got lost along the way… man.

- platonic sewis! always a sucker for how supportive the both of them are for each other, even though they’re going through different challenges of their own here. to paraphrase ada limon, i love how men love.

- her finding mark webber instead of seb, interacting playfully with mark AND calling seb a hazard to his face. if i were seb i would be eating my hat.

- him playing dumb and just looking after y/n so longingly… oh seb.

- seb actually listening to what y/n said, rejecting lewis’ offer to drink & texting her to apologise… these last few paragraphs were an absolute rollercoaster of emotion, but i think it’s a great summary of the complicated relationship and past between seb and y/n. two kindred souls with vastly different emotions about their past and current scars, trying to work out a future with or without the other. the conflicting ways in which they try to move on just makes my heart ache. and it’s only the first chapter.

- ‘… but the four time world champion always appeared to always find a way back to her.’ OH. what a punch in the gut.

to summarise, i think the revamp of the series is a great step forward! compared to the previous iteration, i think your voice, writing style and characterisation (amongst others) have grown vastly, and it just shows how much you’ve developed as a writer <3 loved this first part and can’t wait for the rest!

(my thoughts for chapter two will come in a new ask soon)

- seb anon 💙

i hope you have been enjoying your travel around europe? would love to know which countries you have visited! and i missed talking to you a lot too! X

and can i just say how you are like the dream reader to have? like this kind of feedback and commentary is the best thing ever and this genuinely made me feel better about my writing :)) youve written everything out so perfectly and you pay attention to the small details, and i cant tell you how much i appreciate that !! <3

the ''easy chemistry'' is the best way to describe the dynamics between lewis and yn! cause their relationship is ''easy'' but in a very positive way! and you are completely right about the conflict she experiences!

EXACTLY! and you worded it so perfectly omg! seb knows everything ended the way it was supposed to, but he cant help himself to get jealous of ''what could have been them'' when he looks at lewis and yn.

the friendship of seb and lewis is also an important part of the series so im SO happy to hear you say that! it will become a big point in the later chapters!

her and mark's friendship is just comedic relief :))) and the ''hazard'' line is one of my fav things!!

your last three points are just spot on! and the way you have the entire thing worked out already from the first chapter is- wow, as a writer this is like the biggest compliment ever :) again, i cant stress enough how much i appreciate and adore your attention to detail! i like adding little gestures and actions, cause often those say more than the characters' words <3

i cant wait to see what you thought of the second chapter! and im glad to hear you think ive developed as a writer, cause thats one of the most important things about this revamp!

have the most amazing day, darling anon!! x

#gentle hit #seb :: anon

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seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 6 months

Note

Apart from the way he wears his cap, Louis really is such a fashionista. His clothes are always so well put together. The way he wore that simple white high neck with the black with the white visible in the perfect places and also matching the beeding on the hat. Even on his off days, even with casual clothes it always seems to work well.

Louis’ attention to detail goes way back, even in early 1D days. He can wear six brands at once and look immaculately clean and pretty. Louis doesn’t really wear much jewelry (does a festival wristband count?), but even his tattoos look beautiful when displayed, as much as he brushes them off.

Yet none of Louis’ outfits look like he’s trying too hard to be fashionable or trendy. He is always fashion forward (and wears the intellects of fashion designers) but master of what he wears. His taste is specific, understated and classic. The force and control behind his taste is very compelling!

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lonelypond · 6 months

Text

Soon

NicoMaki, Love Live, 660 words, 1/1

Party Time

Soon

Maki kept catching glimpses of herself in mirrors and windows. No way anyone was going to top her Yor Forger as the Thorn Princess costume. And if they did…she tilted her head, pulled dulled, vicious looking spikes out of her hair, posed as if she were about to strike. Soon, Nico would be at her mercy.

Honoka had decided to host the Halloween party so Maki was headed to Homura. As she approached the family rooms, she spotted a “Welcome Aboard The Bentenmaru” banner..

“MAKI!” Honoka rushed out, dressed in the space pirate captain costume Maki recognized from watching Bodacious Space Pirates with Honoka, Rin, and Nico. Honoka flared out the skirt of her coat and tilted her hat back with her prop gun.

“You look amazing. But you’ll never believe Nico. C’mon. Even my mom got dressed up.”

Honoka’s mom was dressed in a similar outfit as Marika’s mother, but with black pants instead of a miniskirt, a much bigger gun propped near her as she placed a tray of Japanese pastries down. Yukhio and Alisa Ayase had also gone pirate, Yukhio, superhacker Lynn Lambretta in a green Yacht Club hoodie and Alisa, heiress Jenny Doolittle in a Hakuoh Space Academy uniform.

Umi was assisting with the distribution of food, Kotori at her side in another Revue Starlight outfit, Maki couldn’t identify. Dim lights, music playing, Rin and Hanayo were in the far corner, getting drinks,dressed as the two main characters from Kiki’s Delivery Service, Rin as Jiji completely covered by a cat costume and Hanayo bewigged with a huge bright red bow as Kiki leaned with her broom.

Maki heard Nico’s voice, turned back to the hallway. Honoka’s father, a Legendary Chef for the night, had his head inclined, listening to a smaller…man?!?!?!! Maki blinked, Nico’s voice was coming out of a scruffy dude in an immaculate black suit, a Shibu Ina apron over the ensemble, sunglasses low on his ?!?!? nose, shirt shifting to reveal a…shoulder tattoo. Then Nico saw Maki and winked.

Maki was down the hall before she could think of anything else, pulling down Nico’s shirt, gaping at the detailed dragon.

“Slow down, wildkitten.” Nico batted Maki’s hands down. “Parent.”

Honoka’s dad chuckled, moving on.

“Why aren’t you in pain? How did you? Who did you?”

A smirk. “You are so hot in that outfit, Maki.”

“Tattoo.” Maki pointed.

“Isn’t it great?” Nico flexed, the sunglasses not hiding the sparkle of insufferable smugness. “Hanayo did it. Temporary. Did you see their…”

Maki was already storming back to the party, across the room, knocking the drink out of Kiki’s hand, “You, you…what did you do to Nico? I thought we were friends.”

And there was Rin’s voice, and Rin’s rib crunching hug, “WE ARE BESTIES, MAKI-CHAN.”

“What the…” Maki shoved…Rin off of her.

Jiji removed his head revealing Hanayo’s crestfallen face, “What’s the matter, Maki?”

Maki stood back, staring at Rin. Her clothes were padded, her silhouette closer to her girlfriend’s, makeup and prosthetics altering the contours of her face, the wig changing her look, the red ribbon drawing most of the attention. It was truly clever. Maki expected Rin to choose the cat costume so she just assumed.

“Whose clothes are you taking off now?” Nico teased, hands reaching around Maki’s waist.

“Bueh!!!” Maki jumped.

“Is this the scary corner?” Honoka mixed in, plate of pastry handy. “Try these, they’re pumpkin flavored.”

“Ooh.” Rin grabbed for food, Maki pushed through, heading for the hall,ignoring Nico.

“I’m going home. Good night, Honoka, love your costume.”

“Maki?”

Confused Honoka, then Nico’s voice, “Nico’s got this.”

Maki heard running.

“Maki-chan! Wait for Nico.”

Maki stopped, leaning against a wall, holding back confused tears. Nico ducked under, ruby eyes glittering mischievously up at her girlfriend.

“Trick or treat.”

Maki sighed. “Treat please, Nico-chan.”

A soft touch on her cheek, Nico pushing up on tip toe into a not so soft kiss. “Happy Halloween, Maki-chan.”

Now the party starts.

A/N:

Tired. This was fun. Thanks to the Idol Fanfic Heaven mods for another fun Promptober.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #RinPana #Hoshizora Rin #Koizumi Hanayo #Kousaka Honoka #Promptober #Fluff #Halloween #Party #Costumes #Bodacious Space Pirates #Friendship

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thiswasinevitableid · 1 year

Note

As a tired lesbian retail worker I would love to see 45 with danbrey!! (NSFW if possible) 💖

sending you lots of good vibes as we head into the final shopping rush! This ended up right on the edge of NSFW; there's no sex, but it gets kind of steamy.

(This will also be the last fill until the middle of next week, since I'll be on the road)

45. We’re both working at the mall during the holiday season and everything about this experience is miserable except for getting to spend time with you

It could be worse, Dani reminds herself. Origins isn’t the most in-demand brand in the make-up area, so she’s not as swamped as she could be. The speakers blaring Christmas music could be directly above the counter instead of two panels over. She could be in Barclay’s position, working off what she can only assume is some kind of karmic debt as seasonal staff at Cinnabon.

And, of course, she could be working somewhere that isn’t directly across from the MAC counter, current workplace of Aubrey, AKA the most intense crush Dani’s had since high school.

Aubrey radiates cool in a way that makes Dani routinely forget how to form cogent sentences. Her black hair is piled up in a bouffant (which stays in place through either magic or enough hairspray to propel a jet), her black and red make-up is immaculate and, best of all, her nails are painted in bi pride colors. Meaning Dani has a chance if she manages to ask her out.

It’s not just that she looks like a glam biker (Dani has a type, okay?); their hours are almost the same, so they’ve been working across from each other since mid-October, and as the holiday crowds swelled, the bright spot of her day has become the conversations the two of them manage to have across the strip of trashed carpet between their counters.

She glances over to see Aubrey finishing up with an older woman who seems to be buying for a niece she hasn’t seen in five years. Dani’s sure Aubrey nailed the request; she’s personable and gets details out of conversations that baffle Dani. When she’d asked her secret, Aubrey had winked and stage whispered, “Cold reading, baby.”

A sudden after-school rush had thwarted her follow up questions.

Both counters are quiet, but Aubrey still peers around before waving Dani over and pulling out her phone.

“I have been wanting to show you this all. Day.”

The screen switches to a picture of an enormous, white rabbit wearing a flame-patterned sweater and a furious expression.

“Wow, that is a big bunny.”

“Thirteen pounds. Which isn’t great for, like, hat tricks and stuff. But I have trained him to stop chewing on the little wand I use.”

“Holy crap, you’re a magician.”

“Yep! You’re looking at the Lady Flame.” A business card appears in Aubrey’ fingers and Dani takes it as her crush adds, “usually I’ve got a little flash of fire with that but, uh, I kind of got chewed out by my manager the last time I used it.”

“Guess I better come to one of your shows to see it then.” She tucks the card into her pants pocket.

Aubrey grins, “You totally should. Who knows” she bounces her eyebrows, “maybe I’ll even let you pet the bunny.”

Dani blushes and is saved from saying something cheesy back by Aubrey whispering, “customers, ten o clock.”

As Dani hurries back to her spot, she realizes that in handing her the card, Aubrey also just gave Dani her number.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

She’s got ten customers browsing and four who need help and all Aubrey wants to do is lay face down on the counter and make sad faces at the universe until Dani appears across from her. Her friend hasn’t been in all morning. Aubrey is both worried and lonely; having Dani nearby, hair like sunshine and a smile that’s so endearing Aubrey wants to kiss it for the rest of her life, is the only thing keeping her from lighting her hair on fire.

Most days she likes being at the MAC counter. It’s fun to help people find things that make them feel more confident or encourage them to be a little bolder with their appearance. Plus everyone at the counter is queer, and art weirdo, or both, so she feels right at home. But when the holidays come it brings every kind of annoying or rude customer into the mall, and even chill people seem terser when stuck among the bustling crowds and droning carols. The only thing that makes it better to be scolded or argued with by someone’s mom are the chances she gets to talk with Dani. Who’s not here right now.

By the time she finally gets to look at the clock again, it’s been an hour and a half and it’s her lunch break. She only just avoids sprinting into the back to prevent any customers from cutting into her precious half-hour of peace.

As she’s pulling her tupperware from the fridge and wishing she’d made something other than rice for this week, a bag rustles on the counter and she turns to see Dani with a Chipotle bag.

“Hey! I thought you weren’t coming in today.” She nearly fumbles the plastic containing in her hurry to stand up.

“I’m working later than normal to cover for someone, so they gave me the morning off. Oh, um, I brought you lunch.” She produces Aubrey’s usual order, complete with extra guac.

“Ohmygod thank you.” She doesn’t tear the lid off with her teeth but she thinks about it, “I really needed this, today I had someone who did not understand that you cannot return a used eyeliner.”

Dani makes a face of pure disgust.

“I know right?”

They stay in the back until the last possible second. As they’re walking towards the floor, Dani pauses and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hey, um, a friend of mine is having a party after work on Christmas Eve. It’s gonna be kind of late, but he does it every year and it’s always awesome. I, um, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

It’s a good thing they’re inside, because Aubrey is close to floating away as she replies, “I’d love to.”

—-------------------------------------------------

It’s the weekend before Christmas, which means there are so many people in the mall, jostling and talking over each other, that Dani can barely hear her co-workers and she hasn’t been able to see beyond the confines of the counter since eight this morning.

She did at least get a chance to leave the travel mug reading “caution: hot stuff” with Aubrey’s name on it (and Snickers trees inside it) where the other woman would find it. And she’s been able to get through the chaos of the morning by just rolling with the requests and not getting too invested in any particular interaction.

That strategy is thrown off by her current customer, a woman in her forties with a pre-teen in tow. They’re ostensibly there to buy the kid some make-up to wear to a Christmas party. Dani feels like she’s witnessing the latest act in a family drama and has been trying to extricate herself from it for the last five minutes to no avail.

“Here, you might like this one.” she shows the tween a tube of faintly blush-colored lip gloss, “it has a subtle shimmer but no one will notice if it comes off when you’re eating or things like that.”

They look intrigued, but the older woman shakes her head, “Nono, we need something red to match the dress.”

“Or I could just not wear the dress.”

That earns the kid a glare. Dani takes a deep breath and reaches for another shelf, “This one is a little more tinted. I like this formula because it’s very moisturizing and creates a very natural looking color on the lips.”

“Are you colorblind? That’s not red.” The woman says this loudly enough that several other customers glance their way.

“Well, I was thinking we could start with something subtle and then work up from there; that can make people more comfortable trying out bright colors.”

The kid, sensing Dani is on their side, chimes in with, “Isn’t dad always saying guys like a natural look?”

“You dad doesn’t understand. Now, go find us an actual lipstick or I’ll ask to speak with your manager.”

“Attention shoppers. If you’re the owner of a yellow Escalade with a plate reading GRLMOM, your lights are on.”

“Damn it” the woman turns to the tween, “stay here and pick out a lipstick.”

As soon as she’s out of sight, Dani waves them over to the next section of the display, “Okay, these are all lipsticks. This one” she uncaps Poppy Blossom, “looks really red, right? But when you put it on, it doesn’t look like much.” She swatches her wrist as proof, “so, you can buy it and your mom will think you get a bright red lipstick and by the time you put it on it’ll be too late to change it.”

“Awesome.”

By the time the woman returns in a huff, Dani is helping a much nicer customer pick out some stocking stuffers for his son, but from the sound of it her ruse worked.

When there’s finally a lull in the crowd, she looks up to find Aubrey leaning on the counter, smiling at her.

Dani groans and mirrors her, “I had the first “speak to the manager’ of the season.”

“I heard.” She leans closer and smokey perfume tickles Dani’s nose, “I also have a friend at the customer service booth who let me use the P.A system.”

Dani raises her eyebrows as Aubrey looks increasingly pleased.

“I noticed them getting out of the car when I ran out to grab my name tag. And hey, maybe she did leave her lights on.”

A clamor from the west set of doors signals an end to their respite. But Dani still takes a moment to kiss Aubrey on the cheek and murmur, “my hero.”

Much to her delight, Aubrey stays pink for the next half-hour.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Dani’s apartment is exactly how Aubrey pictured it; plants on every available surface, art featuring bones and trees on the walls, and the kind of clutter that suggests someone is trying to keep the space neat but can’t quite find the time to make it happen.

Aubrey is on her fourth, canned, Death Wish mocha of the night while Dani polishes off her third can of Sambazon in their quest to remain awake enough to get to the Christmas Eve party. Apparently it’s pretty standard for Barclay to let his friends crash at his place once the party is through, so all they really have to do is not fall asleep at the wheel and they’ll be home free.

“Guhhhh” Dani flops back onto her bed, a sight that doesn’t help Aubrey’s frayed nervous system in the slightest, “my feet are killing me and if Barclay plays anything with any kind of bell, jingling or otherwise, in the background I’m going to throw his speaker out the window.”

“Yeah that seems fair. Personally I’d like to never hear or think about reindeer ever again. Unless they’re at a petting zoo, then I’d like to think about and also touch them.”

Dani giggles, then sighs up at the ceiling, “Is any of my make-up still on? I feel like I sweat all of it plus an entire layer of skin off.”

Aubrey leans over, trying not to let her study of Dani’s face turn creepy, “Nope, it looks like most of it is gone.” She grins, only half teasing when she adds, “want me to give you a glam look for the party.”

Dani looks at her, hazel eyes sparking with something mischievous, “Go for it. All my stuff is in the bathroom.”

After a quick search of two drawers, Aubrey comes back with a Prado palette (“a gift from my dad” “nice”) and the one, darker pink lipstick that looks like Dani actually uses it.

Dani sits up, resting against the wall as Aubrey gently takes her chin in her hand. Her foundation is unscathed, so she opens the eye shadow palette and considers her options. As she taps her brush into a deep, dusky green, she murmurs, “close your eyes.”

Dani obeys and Aubrey gets to work, blending in greens and golds until her lids look like a forest at sunrise. She’s never been this close to her face, this able to see the freckles forming constellations on her neck and the tilt of her nose that makes her look even more like the high priestess Aubrey would commit multiple crimes to worship.

“Mascara?”

“I’m good.” Dani’s eyes flutter open and she smiles, “do you want to just straddle my lap? You’re kind of contorting yourself right now.”

“Great idea.” Aubrey’s pretty sure she gives that answer at a frequency only dogs can hear.

As she adjusts into position, Dani flaps the ends of her green shirt, “God, how does it get so hot in there? Is it just the body heat from all the last minute shoppers?”

“Probably?” Aubrey begs her hand to stay steady as Dani parts her lips to let her start in with the liner, “I wonder how many people you’d have to get in there before the collective heat just, like, started melting the lipstick. I imagine a lot, but if a bunch of people, like, clustered around one counter maybe that’d make it faster?”

Dani is gazing up at her. As soon as Aubrey caps the liner, the other woman murmurs, “Nothing could make that room hotter than having you in it.”

“I, um, I, really?”

“Really” Dani lifts her head up enough to kiss her once, sweetly, “hot stuff.”

Aubrey drops the liner and grabs Dani’s face, kissing her as hard and as hungrily as her exhausted body can manage. Dani wraps her arms around her waist and then flips them so Aubrey lands, stunned and horny, on her back.

“God I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.” Dani kisses down her right cheek before pressing their mouths together and making french kissing look tame, “you look so hot in all black.”

“Yeah?” Aubrey slides one hand into summery hair and runs the other across Dani’s chest, “we wanna talk about how you’ve been wearing tighter shirts the last two weeks?”

“It’s fun to show off when you know someone’s watching.”

“You can’tAHhhaaaa” Aubrey groans as Dani scrapes her teeth down her neck, “prove anything.”

“I don’t need to, fireblossom.” Dani tugs Aubrey’s collar down to kiss across her chest, “you just admitted it.” She finishes with a little growl and then nips the sensitive skin.

“You gonna punish me for it, cutie?” Her delivery is completely ruined by a massive yawn that overtakes her and Dani in quick succession.

“Fucking retail” Dani groans, resting her head under Aubrey’s chin, “making me too tired to fuck the hottest woman on the planet.”

“You said it.” She pets Dani’s hair, “you still wanna go to the party?”

“Yeah. It reall is great, and I really, really want to introduce you to everyone. I, uh, I’ve kinda been talking about you non-stop.”

“Aww, babe.” Aubrey hugs her and kisses the top of her head.

“Besides, Barclay owes me a favor which means I can convince him to let us have the guest room. That’ll give us some privacy.” She smiles up in a way that makes Aubrey’s heart combust and then rise from the ashes.

“You messed up your lips again.” She teases.

Dani guides her down into another kiss, “Totally worth it.”

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #taz amensty #winter fills

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