#marsha stern | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penvisions · 1 month

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 4}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: Worried about Joel's reputation from defending you, you try to get some distance. But the man has a way with words and you end up at his place for dinner. If he's so intent on being friends with you and touching you in ways that speed up your heart, why was everyone else getting cutting boards and kitchen utensils crafted by him?

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, talk of birth, talk of labor, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, kissing (!!), yearning, protective joel, protective tommy, marsha gets her own warning now, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: this chapter was brought to you by arcade fire and euphoria of finishing three essays and watching four lecture videos + taking notes for class

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

The air was stifling inside the room, causing sweat to drip down the small of his back and bead up on his temples. The motion of him moving back and forth, back and forth tiring but satisfying. His hands ached, for the grip they held, holding secure to the object of his attention. His focus was striking, eyes dark and lips parted as he worked.

He had been at it for a long while, body humming with the effort he was putting into the movement. A grunt broadcasting the longer stretches of his back, the harder press of his hips. His arms were straining against the short sleeves of his shirt, the fabric tight around his muscles as they worked.

Sweat slick arms coated in sawdust as he painstakingly sanded down the planks of wood he had cut to proper dimensions to rest atop counter tops.

Huffing out, he pulled down the mask he had secured over his face, his breath causing the dust from his ministrations to billow up into the air.

No, he thought as he looked it over. Turning the wood over in his hands to inspect it. The fabric of his work gloves hushing over the smooth surface. No, he didn’t think he liked the idea of a circular board for you. He pictured you stood before a larger piece, sturdier. With little soft feet to hold it in place while you chopped expertly away at some herbs or broke down a chicken before roasting it. No, it had to be perfect. It had to feel like you, it had to be the best he could create. And the shape in his hands wasn’t right.

It needed to be perfect, because to him, you were perfect.

“Did you talk to Marsha about me?”

Joel sputtered, the sip of coffee he had just taken dribbling down his chin and shining in his beard.

“Did she apologize for how she’s been spreadin’ rumors?” You offered the kerchief from your back pocket across the space between your horses. They were moving slow, the morning sunlight shining down a warmth that hadn’t been seen for days. His hand grasped at it, the other trying to prevent the liquid from running down his neck and onto his clothing. Despite his rather comical reaction, he was serious as he looked you over.

“No, she was just…more cordial?” You raised a brow, fist tight over the saddle horn raising and opening as you tried to find the appropriate words to describe the weird encounter.

“She didn’t apologize?” Joel pinned you with a stern look, but you were sure it wasn’t really aimed at you if his tone of voice was anything to go by. He had been fine until you brought up Marsha’s name.

“She didn’t apologize.”

“Did- did you tell her to?”

“Yes. I did. She was rude when I was fixing something for her about a month back.”

“About me?” You guided Lowry to a stop, comforting her as she knickered, thrown off a little at the shift in normal protocol. Joel guided his own horse stop beside yours, watching with concern as you dismounted and tied her off to a nearby tree. You began to pace back and forth, the hush of the fallen leaves under your boots mimicking the anxiety that flowed through your veins. “You-you talked about me.”

“Said she was worried about me going out on patrol with you. So I set her straight.” He said as you watched you, pinpointing the tell tale signs in you that he felt too often himself. You removed your wide brimmed hat to rest it atop the empty saddle,

“Because she doesn’t want me to get you killed.”

“Nothin’ you could do would cause that, you don’t have to worry about me. You shouldn’t listen-“

“I did get someone killed. My best friend.” You admitted, mentally berating yourself for just blurting it out. You had planned to calmly tell him about the patrol that had changed your life, set you up on the path you currently walked, your status of the town outsider. But of course you botched it, mouth running as it so often did around him. Wanting to share things with him, of feeling safe and calm enough to say what came to mind around the man.

“You-what?”

“Five years ago.” You settled down on the ground, back against a thick trunk, head in your hands as you told the man you couldn’t get out of your thoughts the thing that made you an outsider within the settlement. It was rather unfortunate. People made it back alive and well for the most part, but in this case it seemed that the blame for what happened had been put on your shoulders. Almost as if you had done so out of jealousy or ill-intentions. The most common rumor was that you hadn’t liked how quickly and well along Aiden and Millie had once arriving and being accepted and offered refuge inside the gates.

But that wasn’t true. Aiden had only ever been a friend, a close one with the way you had to be in order to survive as long as you two did. He had been the only remaining part of your life from Before. You felt more like his guardian than any potential personal connection. He had been young, bus boy in the restaurant you had worked as a chef in. A ten year age difference between you, compelling you to take him with you when it all broke down. You two had been the only ones to make it out of the restaurant, some of the only ones to escape the round up and corralling of people within your small city.

You had been happy, unbelievably happy, when he had told you of his crush on Millie. Feeling like everything you had done and sacrificed was worth it if he could create a life for himself. For people to twist the situation and narrative to something it wasn’t, never sat well with you and proved to have been the cause of the divide between you and a majority of the residents of Jackson. Marsha taking it upon herself to blame you for the grief of her daughter’s lost love.

“We were on Teton and I didn’t notice we had a tail. They followed us and waited until we had scavenged through the village before they came at us.”

But he didn’t turn away, didn’t guide his horse in a complete one eighty and turn back toward the gates, he didn’t take a deep breath or look disturbed by the news at all. Instead, he took you completely by surprise and -

“Do you want to come to mine for dinner tonight?”

Your head shot up, taking in the way he was still atop his horse. The casual air about him as he regarded you with a warm smile.

“Joel, I just told you I got someone killed and you…invite me over for dinner?”

“Well, yeah. Been meaning too, Ellie wants to-“

“Joel, we shouldn’t be seen together. And you can’t be defending me around town. People are going to think-“

“People aren’t going to think anything, they been saying stuff out of line, and I set them straight. Simple as that.”

“Joel, people don’t like me. But they do like you, I don’t want your association with me to drag that through the mud.”

“I don’t care, you hear me?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Sweetheart, I will defend you until my last breath. You don’t deserve the way they talk about you. You feed them, make sure the meals actually taste good and have nutritional value, you put your admittedly very good looking ass on the line to protect them, and you share the harvest of the trees in your yard.”

“This is serious, Joel.”

“Olive,” He heaved a sigh, chin tucked low before he brought his eyes to yours. They were clear and set, intention behind them as they caught the brittle sunlight. “You are my friend. Friends defend each other and spend time with each other. They care about each other.”

“We are not friends.” You broke eye contact and shoved off from your spot. Feeling foolish for the overly simplified way he described the dynamic you two had. As if it was actually so simple. It was anything but, his reputation on the line the more he talked with you, the more he became your friend within the walls.

His hand caught yours as you walked by, stopping you from getting back to Lowry. He said your real name, stilling you even further with the way it fell from his lips.

“We are friends. I do care. I care a hell ova lot.”

“Not just cause I apparently have a good looking ass?” A weak attempt to lighten the mood, to play off his own easy banter.

“I mean, that might be a part of it. I’m not gonna lie to you.” The lopsided grin he brandished made your heart skip a beat, desire sparkling in your middle. “We’re friends, Olive. I heard the way people reacted when I first showed up, last winter. How they reacted when I showed up again months later with a noticeably more damaged Ellie. I-I know we don’t talk too much about it, but I’ve done some bad things too. Why would I fault you for what you think you’ve done?”

“I did other bad things,” You confessed, watching as he dismounted his own horse, coming to stand in front of you. He didn’t give you the chance to ask him what he was doing or give him one of your looks before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. Heart tittering, you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your face into his chest. His hands splayed across your lower back, warm and comforting, holding you up while you shared something new and difficult with him. Something you didn’t know you shared with the man.

“Bad, immoral things. To keep us alive before we got here. He was young when it happened, I had ten years on him. Aiden, his name was Aiden. I hadn’t been ready for the responsibility of someone depending on me, especially as everything we knew collapsed around us. But I did it. I did what I had to for us to survive and find a place like Jackson.”

The horses whinnied, sensing the tense emotions flowing from you, but a calming hush from Joel had them minding their own business as they stood tied close together.

“He-he was happy here, it took us so long to find a place that wasn’t just a trap or full of worse people than us. We stayed away from the QZ’s. Too much going on and too little freedom. But here? It was like a breath of fresh air. And he should’ve had a long, happy life the second we walked through those front gates. But instead he got a year of courting a love he never got to marry and was killed because of my oversight and lack of attention.”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not why.” You felt more than heard the deep rumble of his voice, feeling the light scrape of his facial hair along the top of your head as he spoke. “Patrol ain’t easy. It’s long hours on a horse, on foot, on a constant swivel to keep an eye out for any threats to what we have. And we have a lot to be worried about protecting. People tend to forget the reality of the world behind the gates, getting caught up in rumors and gossip and who’s sleeping with who. But you know what’s out here, I know what’s out here. And if they can’t accept the fact that shit happens, that good people die all the time, then that’s on them. That’s not on you. You hear me?”

He held you until your breath evened out, until you pulled away enough to look up at him. Until you leaned up and pressed your lips to the column of his neck. Smiling into the skin there when you felt his hands tighten around you in response.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away slowly, his arms unwinding from around you.

The rest of the route was covered with simple, easy questions.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Blue he had responded, a deep indigo, erring on the side of purple almost. Your was brown, an amber tone that you didn’t say resembled his eyes in the sunlight, but of the way coffee looked before it was mixed with cream and sugar.

“What’s your favorite genre of music?”

Rock, generic and so spot on for him. You had teased him that he probably listened to bands categorized as classic rock and he had barked a laugh so beautiful you hadn’t heard him ask what yours was. Jazz, you had responded. For the sound of strings and wind coalescing in calming crescendo.

Conversation flowed until you were both safe inside the gates, tacking and brushing the horses in the stables. Until he bid you goodbye with a teasing smile that made your heart warm and your stomach flutter.

“You better bring that good looking ass to dinner later, ya hear me?” He said as he walked by the stall where you tended to Lowry. “Wanna see what the personal chef whips up.”

Tingly. You felt so tingly, even if all you had was two tumblers of amber liquid. One while cooking and one with dinner. Ellie had been glued to your side, the teenager eager to learn how to make something that wasn’t breakfast food. She had been attentive when you showed her how to carefully cube the meat to put on some skewers with onion and peppers. Mindful of keeping an eye on the potatoes as they boiled and maybe a little too enthusiastic in mashing them. But the meal was perfect, the sauce you whipped up a delicate balance of spice and tangy.

Bad puns shared at the table and Joel rolling his eyes more times than you could count. His smile so bright as he laughed and sneered in faux disgust at the really terrible ones. It had wound down, Ellie dipping out as clean up began, but neither of you had begrudge her for it. Friends calling on her for an evening in the mess hall, a movie to be played for the town.

Now a third one, on the couch in the living room of the man who surprised you as you spend more and more time with him. A fire crackling in front of you both, Joel down on his knees as he made sure it was fed enough to keep going.

With a huff, he plopped down onto the cushion beside you, causing you to dip into him from your own spot. The liquid splashed around in your glass and a small sound of surprise whooshed out of your chest as you tried to prevent your body from pressing up against him so completely. One of his hands wrapped around the wrist of the one you had placed on his shoulder to prevent it from happening. The other fixing itself on the back of your head to prevent you from butting against him. But he didn’t let go when your gaze snapped up to his face.

Something glinted in them, his breath puffing out in a hearty chuckle that vibrated through you. Your entire right side felt like it was on fire with the contact of him pressed close. The feel of his pants rough on the part of your thigh that had been exposed as the skirt of your dress rustled up at the movement, revealing that the cloth over your legs were thigh highs and not tights.

“Smooth, Miller.”

“Hush,” His lips quirked up in a smirk. His hand moving from your wrist to take the glass from you and set it beside his on the coffee table. His palm splayed on the exposed skin, and he was suddenly leaning even closer, pulling your legs over his lap completely. The fabric riding higher to expose the tops of your thighs to his searching eyes.

“Oh.” Your breath pushed from your chest at the action. Hand reaching to settle on the side of his neck, skin warm and startling heady thoughts to make your head swim. Make your stomach flutter and your pulse hammer. Bad, oh this was so bad. He was so close, he was so warm, so solid. He was practically curled over you, encasing you in his loose embrace. A warning that sounded more like a plea in the form of his name whispered. “Joel…”

“Hush.” He repeated, his nose bumping against yours as he leaned down. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, wondering if he could smell it on yours. His eyes flashed down to your lips, causing your heart to skip a beat, the brown of them almost eclipsed by how wide his pupils were blown. No doubt matching your own.

“W-we shouldn’t.” It wasn’t even an argument, not really. His top lip brushed yours, the feel of his mustache tickling magnifying the tingles cascading over your body. The smell of him, that heady cedar that made you inhale deeply, reveling in how much comfort it settled into your bones.

“Just, lemme in.” He rasped, lips brushing yours chastely. A shuttering breath giving away his own nerves. “Please.”

His need for clear consent, the feel of hands on you, of his body pressed up against you was all so dizzying. Your eyes fluttered shut, body absolutely humming. How could you deny him, the man who settled into your thoughts, made a space in your heart that only he could fill. How could you deny him when he smelled so good, felt so warm, asked so sweetly for the one thing you already wanted to give him.

Before you could even finish shaping your mouth around an ‘okay’, his lips were pressed fully against yours. Gentle, chaste, a tame thing.

You pulled back, breathing hard only after a few seconds, eyes flying open. His own were searching yours, his breath fanning over your face. Ensuring that you were okay, that you were still okay with it, with him. With this. A friendship shifting into unknown territory.

His fingers tangled in your hair, scrunching it and pulling it in just the right way to cause a groan to travel up your chest. Pleasure bolted through you, pushing you to reach out and wrap your hands around his neck, forward and into him. Lips crushing against his in deeper kiss as you shifted your legs in his lap, moving them to rest your knees on either side of his thick thighs. His hands gripped your waist, helping to pull you closer.

He moaned out as you settled over his lap, chest to chest, allowing for you to lick into his mouth. Gentle and careful giving way to desperate and urgent as you moved against each other with intention. You could feel the swell of him hard beneath you and you shifted your hips to press down, flush against him everywhere. Swallowing the groan he let out at the action, one of his hands moving underneath the skirt of your dress to-

“JOEL!”

“Fuck,” He growled, hands tightening on you as the sound of his name on a loud shout echoed down the dark street had you pulling away. Fast steps rushing toward the front of his house. The only warning before his front door slammed open, hitting the wall of the entry way. He captured your lips in bruising kiss as his name was shouted again inside the home.

Sighing, you rested your forehead against his, sharing air with him as he closed his eyes. His hands on you clenching as the moment effectively shattered.

Tommy’s form appearing in the doorway to the living room.

“Joel, it’s Maria. The baby- she, the baby’s co- oh!”

You knew how it looked, you pushing off from the older man, him sunken into the couch, both of you trying to catch your breath. The tension in the air, the fire crackling happily in the fireplace, the twin glasses of whisky on the coffee table. The way the skirt of your dress was wrinkled and on of your thigh highs shoved down by your ankle. Joel’s clothing no better, your hands having begun to unbutton the flannel donned. The obvious bulge he moved a hand over to try and hide from view.

“D-don’t.” You warned lightly, leaning down to pull the fabric back up your leg. Moving to put as much distance between you and the man you had just been all over like a teenager. Joel reached for you, aware of the watching gaze of his stunned brother. But you swerved, not allowing his fingers to graze you and shoved past Tommy.

“Olive-“ Joel tried to catch your eyes but you wouldn’t look at him, heart in your throat and stomach twisted up in knots. Tingly, you were still so tingly.

“I-I-I’ll see y’all….later. Tell Maria she can call on me if she needs anything!” And then you were shoving your feet into the unlaced boots, shrugging your coat on and taking off out the still open door into the cool night. Your heart didn’t stop racing even as you crossed the threshold into your own home a few streets over or when you stepped into a scalding shower. Or when your back rested against the cold tiles of the stall and you slid down to sit in the tub underneath the stream.

You just kissed Joel Miller.

It was supposed to be a good thing, you had wanted to, it had been all you could think about, the desire in the back of your mind all the time. But then why did you feel like you just made a huge mistake?

Tommy had come by a few days later, explaining that you would need to take his place on the longer routes Joel was assigned to. Sparse on the roster with so many to rotate the patrols with. Maria, now stable and back at home. A new baby boy to tend to and shower with love. His attention and focus needed here within the gates, not outside of them. His little brother’s worry and anticipation pulling a smile from him.

He had sat up with him far too late, assuring him that he was more than capable, that he was ready, that he would do just fine. The excited chatter had turned somber, memories of time so similar permeating the air and quieting the two men.

“I see you two, when you take off for patrol and when you come back. It’s the same when you’re with Ellie.” Tommy’s voice was low, nearly whispering as he confessed. “It’s the closest I’ve seen you look alive, look like you used to. Before.”

“She makes me feel like I’m alive.”

“She can pull a laugh outta me easy as can be, even if I’m a little pissed off with her.”

“Joel.” Incredulous, almost berating in tone, just his name. Nothing prefacing or following it and it irked him. To hear it spoken in such a manner by his younger brother.

“No, Tommy, no, don't just say my name like that. like it's a whole goddamn conversation that I should know about.”

“Just…be careful, brother. She doesn’t have a lot and I’ve noticed a difference in her since you rolled in.”

Joel recalled the way you had felt in his arms, pressed against him. And then how you had practically fled the scene, how you hadn’t been able to look at him afterwards. Careful, he agreed quietly. He had to be careful, for both your sakes.

Patrols were easy, neither of you mentioned the kiss. Or how one had turned into a handful, how gentle had turned into desperate. Going about the responsibility of ensuring the safter of the settlement like normal. Upon returning one day, Tommy had been waiting at the gates, almost buzzing with excitement as he prompted you both to take a piece of paper from jar. Citing that it was for the annual gift exchange of the holiday season fast approaching.

He felt bad for the relief he had felt when your name wasn’t the one scribbled onto his folded scrap of paper. The three planks of wood he managed to cut from the trunk drying out on his back porch. He checked on them each day before bed, inspecting them to ensure they were safe. One had already been lost to a disease that had rotted in the crack of the tree, seeping into that part of the trunk. He had just sat there with a tumbler of whiskey, lamenting the loss of it. The others wouldn’t be ready for months, he realized, as the holidays loomed on the horizon.

Just like he was doing now, thinking of the planks of wood on the other side of his house. It was one of the few moments he didn’t have anything pressing calling his attention so early, allowing him to take a moment to enjoy his coffee in the crisp air. The leaves were a myriad of colors, scattered along the streets and leaving the trees bare. He idly wondered if this was your favorite time of the year. And if it wasn’t, then what was?

“I know you got me.”

Joel startled where he sat on his front porch, coffee spilling from the mug he had a hand around resting on his knee. The soft voice breaking his reverie, his thoughts of you. But when he focused and looked up, it was Marsha who stood on the top step of his porch. Watching him with an entertained smile, eyes taking him in like she tended to do. He wasn’t blind, he knew the way she watched him. That she harbored a small liking to him, but he had never even thought to give into it. Even if it weren’t for the way she treated you and spread ill-notions of you around town, she wouldn’t be his type.

She had been here ever since the start, been here when the walls first went up and the town of Jackson was established. And he wished he didn’t feel a twinge of jealously and ire for it. But he was only human, someone who had to fight and claw and lose themselves in what the world became. Wishing it had all ended, would end when he lost more and more each day. Pieces of his heart shattering and pieces of his humanity ripped from him. But Marsha, her family, they hadn’t experienced that. And it allowed them to feel like it was completely normal to partake in gossip and petty vendettas.

He realized that being behind the walls allowed him to appreciate more what people endured outside of them. It wasn’t the woman’s fault she hadn’t had to fight for her life, that she hadn’t lost parts of herself to the world as it fell apart and tried to turn anything it could into a twisted version of its original self. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have to figure out who she was after it all. How to life with herself and the things the world drove her to do.

No, that was him. It was Tommy. It was Ellie. It was you. And she would never understand.

“I was thinking about how you scolded me, and while that was…intense.” The tips of her ears tinged pink, telling him more than her words what she had thought of the interaction. Focused on how his attention had been on her and not on the words he had meant with every fiber of his being. The need to protect you, to stand up for you when you wouldn’t do so overwhelming him in that moment.

“I did try but she…my daughter doesn’t agree…I might need a little more incentive.”

“Ma’am, I’m not interested in playing games.” Joel made to stand up and seek shelter inside, unwilling to take part in whatever the woman was up to.

“It’s not a game, Joel. I just…she did a lot of damage. It’s going to take more than one conversation to settle five years’ worth of tension.” She tried to argue, to explain. But he wasn’t having any of it, too tired for the circles she was bound to lead the conversation.

“You didn’t even apologize, she said you were cordial with her.”

“I…I know. But listen to me, if you agree to help me build shelves in the living room as my gift, I’ll work on shifting the way people talk about her. I’ll intervene or cut them off if they start up about her. I swear to you.” He did stand at that moment, his coffee gone cold and his morning taking a turn for the worst.

“You apologize to her and I’ll think about it. She’s a good girl, she doesn’t deserve the crap y’all put her through.” Joel set her with a look, hoping she understood how serious he was about all this. Because you truly didn’t deserve the status of outsider that you wouldn’t toss around but inevitably felt. You were good, to him, to the town, to Ellie, even to the people who talked behind your back. “You better make sure that whoever drew her name gets her somethin’, you hear me? Apologize to her, I’ll be by to get the dimensions tomorrow.”

Joel turned his back on the woman, not bothering to look over at her to ensure she agreed to his terms before he was safely back in his home. Sighing, he dumped the coffee into the sink and moved into his workspace, anxious and needing to relieve it until he had to begin crossing things off his list.

It’s slow, the way the crafted planks of wood crop up around the settlement. From the first one in Tommy’s kitchen to the one in the creators own. To the ones fawned over in each of the older women’s homes, a rather prominent subject to be heard over the hours spent tending the gardens. Many hands busy preening, clipping, removing, sifting the soil while many mouths form praise around his name: Joel Miller.

Autumn is pivotal time to cleanse the gardens, tend to the waning perennials, prepare and protect the soil to ensure its intact for next years plantings. It’s nearing the end of the season, a dense chill settling over the land and sticking. Much like the frost you can see glittering in the early mornings when you leave for patrol or to help in the mess hall. Hearty, nutritional stews and stocks your specialty provided in the times when fresh isn’t available. But you didn’t mind, it kept you busy.

But you could do without the dotting words of so many for a man who had become something complicated in your life. A kiss, a lapse of judgement that had made it so.

While Joel was ever the same out on patrol, with the sharing of coffee and trading of questions, it was beginning to shift within the town. You hadn’t been hurt before when his attention was pulled before he noticed you, but now having had some of it to yourself you begrudgingly acknowledged that it was beginning to.

Wanting to desperately to be folded into the community, into the social circles that were prevalent all around. And you didn’t like how much you wanted that, knowing it would never be so.

Marsha was hovering close, sitting next to him in meetings and in the mess hall when they both happened to be there. And it irked you, because you weren’t sure what was going on between them. It certainly wasn’t any of your business, but the way that he seemed to always be close to her despite his words of having talked to her about being nicer to you settled heavy in your gut. It was sticky and uncomfortable, to carry about the realization that perhaps…perhaps she had listened to him because they were together.

But just like the worn fabric of his back pockets, it was none of your business.

Neither of you asked about personal stuff like relationships or the nonexistent sex lives you led. Or thought you both led, but the difference in ages revealed a subject off limits apparently. Which was alright, Joel did have a decade or so on you. His beautiful curls a steel gray, while you were just beginning to find streaks of silver in your own hair, more prominent when it was pulled up and away from your face. But you had wanted to know if they were together. If you were being too out of line with your thoughts of the man, of how you felt like you could talk to him, ask him questions, like he was still yours while out on patrol.

And you would take what he would give you, even if it meant you were both acting like the kiss had never happened.

It was felt even more so, the isolation and lack of a personal life as the holidays loomed near. Joel busy now more than ever, that damned little spiral notebook with its never-ending list. Tommy and Maria deep in the life of being parents to a newborn. Even Ellie was smitten with her friends, laughing more and seeming to enjoy herself as she finally began to find her circle. The reality of having pulled Joel’s name for the secret gift exchange burning a hole in your back pocket.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom@communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @ohhellotherebumblebee

250 notes · View notes

girlactionfigure · 2 years

Text

Happy 83rd Birthday! Ralph Lauren (born Ralph Lifshitz) is an iconic American fashion designer, philanthropist and best known for the Ralph Lauren Corporation, a global multibillion-dollar enterprise.

Lauren was born in the Bronx, New York on October 14, 1939, to Frieda and Frank Lifshitz. His parents were Ashkenazi Jewish immigrants from Pinsk, Belarus and the Lifshitz family lived an average middle-class lifestyle. While growing up in New York, Lauren attended Marsha Stern Talmudical Academy and DeWitt Clinton High School. He was known for his distinctive fashion sense as a teenager and would always strive for a better life. In high school he started selling ties to his classmates. “Those ties were handmade, by the way,” Lauren says proudly. “Back then, ties, even designer ones, didn’t sell for more than $5 a piece. Mine were $12 to $15. Such luxury in something so simple was revolutionary.” It was not long before Lauren had established a reputation for himself. Lauren says he is proud of his Jewish heritage and celebrates the Jewish holidays.

“People ask how can a Jewish kid from the Bronx do preppy clothes? Does it have to do with class and money? It has to do with dreams.” – Ralph Lauren

Contributor: Lauren Shain

Humans of Judaism

#Ralph Lauren #Jewish #Judaism

35 notes · View notes

orphancookie69 · 6 months

Text

The Haunted Mansion...Then and Now!

The haunted mansion...it is some people's dream home. Other's favorite ride. Or a house in Disney Dreamlight Valley. Or the source a movie debate of who did it better...So many things.

Some fun facts about The Haunted Mansion can be found here!

The Haunted Mansion (2003)

Horror/Comedy: Workaholic real estate agent Jim Evers (Eddie Murphy) is accused by his wife, Sara (Marsha Thomason), of neglecting his son (Marc John Jefferies) and daughter (Aree Davis), so he takes the family on a vacation. Along the way, the family stops off at a sinister mansion that Jim has been asked to sell, only to discover it's haunted by Master Gracey (Nathaniel Parker) ; his stern butler, Ramsley (Terence Stamp) ; and two other servants who need some help breaking a curse.

The Haunted Mansion (2023)

Horror/Fantasy: A woman and her son enlist a motley crew of so-called spiritual experts to help rid their home of supernatural squatters.

My thoughts/comparisons on the movie: So, remakes for me are very hit or miss. The 2003 film was excellent. Location was good, story was funny. Good cast. It was the haunted mansion, but a story in it. The 2023 remake was not bad. 20 years is a long time between movies, and society changes greatly. Decent cast, and more iconic and trying to be the ride in some ways. The story I think suffered for this reason and you could kind of see a lot of the twists coming a mile away. Visuals were lovely, you could tell the most up to date technology was used. What would I choose to watch again? Probably the comedy.

It is the time of year to sit with your family and watch a creepy movie as you eat together. Regardless of which version you watch, it makes you want to ride the ride again. Have you seen them? Which one do you prefer?

#now watching #disney #the haunted mansion #rant #attraction #disneyland park #movie buff in training #highly recommend #spoiler free #spoiler alert

2 notes · View notes

lizsmovies · 1 year

Text

The Haunted Mansion

Workaholic real estate agent Jim Evers (Eddie Murphy) is accused by his wife, Sara (Marsha Thomason), of neglecting his son (Marc John Jefferies) and daughter (Aree Davis), so he takes the family on a vacation. Along the way, the family stops off at a sinister mansion that Jim has been asked to sell, only to discover it's haunted by Master Gracey (Nathaniel Parker) ; his stern butler, Ramsley (Terence Stamp) ; and two other servants who need some help breaking a curse.

4.5/10

#fantasy #horror #2003

2 notes · View notes

heavenboy09 · 5 months

Text

20 Years Ago Today On November 26th, 2003

WALT DISNEY PICTURES PRESENTS

TO INVITES YOU

INTO THE WORLD OF THE SUPERNATURAL

& WITNESS THE OTHER SIDE , WITH YOUR VERY OWN EYES.

WORKAHOLIC REAL ESTATE AGENT JIM EVERS (Eddie Murphy)

IS ACCUSED BY HIS WIFE, SARA (Marsha Thomason),

OF NEGLECTING HIS SON (Marc John Jefferies) AND DAUGHTER (Aree Davis), SO HE TAKES THE FAMILY ON A VACATION.

ALONG THE WAY, THE FAMILY STOPS OFF AT A SINISTER MANSION THAT JIM HAS BEEN ASKED TO SELL,

ONLY TO DISCOVER IT'S HAUNTED 👻

BY MASTER GRACEY (Nathaniel Parker)

HIS STERN BUTLER, RAMSEY (Terence Stamp)

AND TWO OTHER SERVANTS WHO NEED SOME HELP BREAKING A CURSE.

BUT JIM MUST BEWARE OF THE SURROUNDINGS OF THIS GHASTLY HOME OF 🏡 MASTER GRACEY

FOR YOU SEE. IF CAN NOT BREAK THIS CURSE OF THE GRACEY MANOR BY THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT

HIS WIFE WILL BE FOREVER LOST TO HIM

& HER SOUL BELONGS TO THE MANOR

THERE ARE 999 GHOSTS 👻 WHO HAUNT THIS ACCURSED MANSION, BUT THERE IS ALWAYS ROOM

FOR 1 MORE

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

WALT DISNEY PICTURES PRESENTS

EDDIE MURPHY

THE HAUNTED MANSION 🏠😱👻💀

HAPPY 20TH ANNIVERSARY TO DISNEY'S THE HAUNTED MANSION 🏠😱👻💀

CHECK YOUR PULSE AT THE DOOR 🚪

IF YOU HAVE ONE

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 💀 #TheHauntedMansion #WaltDisneyPictures #EddieMurphy

#The Haunted Mansion #Walt Disney Pictures #Eddie Murphy #Spotify

1 note · View note

lovingthewildlife · 6 months

Text

Pinkerloch day XX

The dragons in the den may or may not have been putting off making logs about this situation. Putting off even naming the three adoptees that would be taught about the coliseum. The small group was nosing about, listening to others talking about the Riot of Rot going on and doing their level best not to be jealous of the fact that they weren't being included in the festivities. The gathering of food and eager talk of trinkets that could be found in the alchemical cauldrons.

It finally came to a point that the three named themselves. If the others were going to avoid them, they'd just do this all themselves. Pawing at novels, careful claws shifted the pages side to side, looking for something that would suit them.

The veilspun tilted her head and gave her long mane a shake, the tresses dragging down like so much vines from a tree in a swamp. Although her coloration wasn't similar to trees or swamps, she liked the image it invoked.

"Marsha. I'm Marsha now." She nodded, decided on it and then looked at the other two.

The imperial one looked tired and sad, silently spoken words still striking at him. They assumed he couldn't hear some of the things said. The expectation that none of them would survive long enough to make it to the end. "Matteo."

The guardian flexed her wings and looked from the other two over to the direction of the road that led to that coliseum they would need to go to soon. Once they chose their names, they were considered adults. They would be considered culpable for themselves and there would be no turning back. But.. she couldn't really just let the two of them go alone now could she?

"Jayden." She sighed, a snarl curling her lip. Annoyance warring with worry.

The imperial. Matteo. Looked at the two female dragons, head drooping low as he hissed out his next question. "And what now?"

"Now? We keep track of what we find. We study the methods of others we see to improve on ourselves. What we find that is not food, we sell, so that we can buy tonics and whatever else we need." Marsha's voice was soft but stern. Quiet words that carried authority.

Matteo hoped she lived so he wouldn't be looked at, expected to carry on the group.

#flight rising #loving loch

0 notes

thezanyarthropleura · 1 year

Text

March 20 (2 of 2: 1980)

(This post covers Gamera: Super Monster, look out for a separate Gamera vs. Viras post earlier today)

Happy 55 years to Gamera vs. Viras, the fourth film in the Showa era, and happy 43 years to Gamera: Super Monster, the eighth and final film in the Showa era. Two movies that use extensive stock footage, but that use it to very different effect. Also two films that feature alien spaceships, and scenes where Gamera is mind-controlled by said alien spaceships.

Ah, Super Monster. The film I imagine quite a lot of fans either loath entirely or dismiss as not a real Gamera film. So, I’ll begin with something in this film that is genuinely relevant to the other films and to the franchise as a whole:

Gamera: Super Monster presents a significant and oft-missed stepping stone between the first Gamera film in 1965 and the last film thus far, Gamera the Brave, in 2006. All three films feature a child who believes his pet turtle has become Gamera, and most who’ve seen the other two films will know that in the earliest film, this is shown explicitly not to be the case, and in the most recent, it’s shown to be the case. In Gamera: Super Monster, however, the question of whether Keiichi’s turtle has become Gamera is left ambiguous, granting the situation a new, perhaps mocking or teasing sense of mystique but not quite committing to telling the story Gamera the Brave would 26 years later.

…Well, that’s quite long enough avoiding the real reason I’m here, so let’s talk space lesbians!

While this may be a film that copies some of its most exciting elements from popular Hollywood films of the time, Gamera: Super Monster is automatically braver, bolder, and more ambitious than any of those movies because it actually has the guts to make women the main characters. We’re introduced to Kilara, Marsha, and Mitan very early on – three superheroine alien refugees hiding out on Earth. Spacewoman Kilara is a lovely femme-butch seven-foot-tall amazon and the one who does just about everything important, the others are mostly there to give their partner moral support. But it barely matters because Mach Fumiake gives the best performance of anyone in any Gamera movie. She could really carry the film on her expressiveness and enthusiasm alone, but likely in part from just being in her presence, the others step up to the plate and give it their best. This film is like if an A-list cast made one of those zero-budget parking garage movies, and it’s the best thing of all time.

With clever cover identities as a pet store owner, a Mazda car saleswoman, and a schoolteacher, the three spacewomen share a home base of Kilara’s apartment and spend their nights in the pet store’s van, which houses a cat-carrier, which is actually a miniaturized living environment they apparently sleep in. The box’s interior appears to have just one three-person-wide lounge chair/couch with one decorative throw pillow, so I guess they must be sleeping in a sitting position and all leaning on each other’s (or let’s be real, the other two on Kilara’s) shoulders, which is adorable, but probably uncomfortable in the long run.

After they’re given a stern warning not to interfere in the plans of the invading starship/alien species/pirate warlord Zanon, they get drawn into a plot involving a young boy named Keiichi and his connection with a giant flying turtle called Gamera, all while being pursued and targeted by Zanon’s agent and fellow spacewoman Giruge (I’ll talk about Giruge more below, because her entire character arc is both the best and worst, most heartwarming and most upsetting part of the movie, and comes with a serious content warning). Kilara especially, despite being the take-charge leader of the group and the one to consistently shoulder the weight of responsibility, shows a warm and encouraging side as she easily befriends Keiichi and treats him as a member of the team. She also gets to fight Giruge in hand-to-hand combat, and I’m gonna make a point to avoid thirsting over the characters because this is a very wholesome movie so that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

The special effects in this film… well, some of them are an acquired taste, and you have to roll with the cheesiness. The rest are fairly top-notch, at least for the series up until that point, because they’re scenes from all the other Showa era movies, re-used. Stock footage, stock footage, whatever. The fights in this film are cut down to be faster-paced and set to great music. So what if you’ve seen them before? If you’ve ever watched a Showa Gamera AMV on Youtube (and if not, why haven’t you?) then you’ll probably enjoy watching the monster fights in this film too. And these movies have always been about more than the monster fights, anyways.

This is one of two Gamera films that made me legitimately tear up, and as a warning as much as it is a statement, after my first viewing of Super Monster, I found myself in a moderately distressed state where I had difficulty concentrating on anything productive other than watching it three more times over the next three days and writing a fix-it fic. The next section of this post (marked by ~ dividers so it can be skipped over if needed), will discuss two suicides that occur in this film.

~~~~~

I was prepared for Gamera. I think anyone who knows at least two things about this movie knows that Gamera sacrifices himself at the end to destroy Zanon. And it hits differently, but probably even less surprisingly, after Gamera the Brave, because now, sacrificing himself in a huge explosion to defeat an enemy is just an established part of Gamera’s character.

What struck me deeply was how the film handles Giruge, I think in part because I wasn’t expecting it and also probably because she’s human and not a giant turtle represented by a flying prop. It’s clear the film was setting up Giruge’s death the same way, as a sacrifice for the greater good, which is a common trope in media and doesn’t always directly involve a character being suicidal, but whatever outs this film could’ve taken to soften the blow… it didn’t.

To begin with, Giruge is suicidal, as established after her fistfight with Kilara, when after briefly holding Giruge at gunpoint, Kilara refuses to kill her on principle and gives back her blaster. At first, Giruge takes cruel advantage of this mercy and has a clear shot to kill any of the heroes she wants, but after seeing them all interact as one, happy family, she ultimately can’t go through with it, and points the gun at herself instead. Her reasons for doing this are different across film versions, with her either ridiculing herself as a compete failure, or expressing her fear of the punishment Zanon has continually threatened to inflict on her.

Kilara, the other spacewomen, and Keiichi all spot her attempt in time, and rush over to stop her. And I think that’s what endears me so much to this film. Everyone shows immediate concern, there’s no cynicism, no conflict over whether to offer kindness to her, it’s treated as a universal fact that Giruge needs help and everyone is willing to lend it. Even Keiichi’s mother, who up until this point has been dismissive of Keiichi’s stories and could care less for his love of turtles or monsters, apparently has a reality check when (in an offscreen event later relayed) he and his new friends bring home an unconscious, suicidal woman who needs a place to stay.

Giruge wakes up to find Keiichi having fallen asleep while watching over her, an injury from the fight having been carefully bandaged the night before, and Keiichi’s mother coming in to check on her and explaining the situation. (the English dub all but directly states Keiichi is there acting as her suicide watch). Keiichi’s mother invites her to stay as long as she needs to, mentioning that Keiichi has always wanted a sister (something built up for the entirety of the Japanese version, as Keiichi refers to all the spacewomen with a term of endearment meaning ‘older sister’).

But then we get the film’s finale, where a still-injured Giruge is contacted once more by Zanon, and gives him fake coordinates for the spacewomen while, in actuality, putting herself in the line of fire instead. In the English dub, the first version I watched, this comes off as entirely avoidable, and certainly appears more like a successful suicide than any legitimate heroic sacrifice.

It’s slightly better in the Japanese version. In one version of the subtitled original dialogue, Zanon states that he already knows the spacewomen are still alive, explaining why Giruge couldn’t just lie and report her victory like the English dub suggests she could’ve. She also doesn’t mention the signal being targeted to her watch in the subbed version, just that she’s relaying the Spacewomen’s coordinates to Zanon, explaining why none of the others tried to stop her this time – she intentionally left them with some doubt as to whether she was actually betraying them.

It's not over there, she does get a tearful death scene in the arms of her new family, where she thanks them for their kindness before disintegrating into motes of light, but she’s forgotten shortly after – as is Gamera, whose own sacrifice was just moments away when Giruge made hers. Kilara dries Keiichi’s tears for them both and the last shots as the credits roll are upbeat and hopeful.

In my view, this is a clear mishandling of an explicitly suicidal character, though I have to imagine that in the time the film was made, fully redeeming a villain might have been something there were restrictions on. If that was the case, and if the other option would’ve been cutting out the scenes that made her character arc so compelling, than I can allow myself some understanding for why it needed to be presented the way it was. Still, the hurt I feel every time I watch it can probably account for at least 30-40% of why I’ve been slacking so much in getting content out on-time.

(If you need that fix-it fic now, it’s here)

~~~~~

In my haze of emotional hurt and fixation on this film, I picked up a copy of Constantine Furman’s The Unofficial Tokusatsu Fan’s Handbook for GAMERA, SUPER MONSTER, which I kinda felt like I was required to own as someone who actually likes this movie. I highly recommend it as a read-along commentary and a window into the production history of not only this film, but (in part due to the matter of the stock footage and the fact the commentary continues over said footage) the history of the Gamera Showa era as a whole.

And, if there’s anyone out there who absolutely CANNOT watch Showa Gamera without the aid of a certain spaceman and his robot friends, I find this book an acceptable substitute for that as well, entertaining as much as it informs. Comedy is always a matter of taste, and one or two jokes didn’t land quite right with me, or were just puzzling (one remark about Barugon’s rainbow seems a little sketchy, but I’m assuming I’m just reading too much into it), but just like MST3K’s goes at Gamera, it’s all done in good faith by someone who genuinely loves the film, and I can respect that, enough that I’ve read along with the book for two of the eight times I’ve watched Gamera: Super Monster since mid-February.

…I may have a problem.

So, in conclusion, how much do I love this movie?

In truth, I struggle to know where to rank Gamera: Super Monster among the other films. With how emotionally attached I became to the characters, there’s no question it ranks among my absolute favorites, and with a different ending, it might’ve even earned the top spot, but I hesitate to place it that high due to the mishandling of the subject matter described above. If nothing else, it’s my definitive favorite Showa era film, easily surpassing the first six of the mainline seven and narrowly clearing the dorsal fin of Gamera vs. Zigra, a film I like for many of the same reasons as Super Monster but that, in many subtle ways, feels like a narratively cheaper and less earnest alternative. As for shipping… it’s a movie about three alien women who live and sleep together, and who express immediate concern and worry for a fourth woman of their species who has never known love or kindness. It is by far the most lesbian Gamera movie out of all the lesbian Gamera movies.

#gamera #gamera super monster #kilara #giruge #kilara gamera #marsha gamera #mitan gamera #giruge gamera #keiichi gamera #gamera march #hamburgerlunch #cw sui #cw sui attempt #a lesbian reviews all the gamera movies

0 notes

dimxnd-assistant · 1 year

Text

So I have a idea! Older!Monica

I have a idea for a older Monica where she has gotten free from Marsha and has now moved to Metropolis but also is now the head of a successful recruitment agency, to help those in a similar situation to her own when she worked for Marsha. She is older and wiser and stronger and does not take BS anymore.

She is a great boss. Fun and caring but stern when she needs to be. She looks after all her employees and clients.

#older monica #older au

1 note · View note

priokskfm · 5 months

Text

#MixOfDay #Podcast #Radioshow #LiveDjset Roy Thode recorded live at Studio 54 NYC November 5, 1981 This presentation from DJ Roy Thode was recorded live at Studio 54 on Nov.5, 1981. My release of this recording is, almost to the day, 42 years after the night it was recorded. I hope you enjoy this step back in time from Roy's opening records to his 'walking out the door' music at the end of the night as you relive "A Night At Studio 54". Keep On Dancing!! studio54, r&b, hi-nrg, "classic disco", "house music", "retro dance music", "new york dance culture history", "marsha stern", "heartbeat of the dance floor", "roy thode", "classic dance music", "new york nightlife" www.priokskfm.online https://ift.tt/xnuHPRy

#classic disco #house music #retro dance music #new york dance culture history #marsha stern #heartbeat of the dance floor #roy thode #classic dance music #new york nightlife #Priokskfm #mixofaday #studio54 #r&b #hi-nrg #The Heartbeat Of The Dance Floor ®#SoundCloud

1 note · View note

azure-wolf-227 · 2 years

Text

My Hamefura Original Characters

I was inspired by @dulcito-on-ao3 and @logo-comics to share my originals characters for Hamefura. These characters are free for anyone to use as long as I’m credited.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

David Graham - a coach driver who works for the Claes family; he is assigned to Keith and Katarina while they were at the academy. He is a kind and hard-working man, who is willing to offer advice and opinions though he can be a bit blunt. He is around the same age as the parents and has kids that are a little older than Katarina and company. Has dark hair with some gray strands and brown eyes.

Phillip Johnson - the Claes Stable Master; he is a man who takes his job seriously, and is strict but fair to his subordinates. He won't tolerate any negligence of duties, especially if they could cause harm to the horses or people. He is often exasperated by the Duke's babying of the horses. He is a little older than the parents and has adult children who also work with horses. Has graying hair and gray-blue eyes.

Joseph Greene - A hard-working and trustworthy stablehand, he is also kind and friendly, and cares about the horses. He readily gives advice and tips for riding and caring for horses. He is about the same age as the parents and has brown-red hair, stubble on his face, and green eyes.

Joanne "Jo" Greene - a stable girl and Joseph Greene's niece. She is kind and friendly, though a bit snarky, hard-working and eager to learn. She loves horses and admires her uncle. Her name is a reference to Joe Green from Black Beauty. She is a few years older than Katarina and has short auburn hair and green eyes.

Sir Patrick Malone - the Captain of the Claes Knights. He is very loyal and takes his duty seriously; is strict with his subordinates but reasonable. Is the third son of a viscount and a water mage. He has known Luigi Claes since childhood and considers him a friend. A bit older than the parents; very tall and imposing with graying hair and brown eyes on a stern face.

Dame Elizabeth "Elise" Faucher - a Claes Knight. She is loyal and takes her duty seriously, but has a funny and indulgent side since she has younger siblings. She is the middle daughter of a baron, a wind mage and a skilled swordfighter. Is around the same age as Anne; has light blonde hair and green eyes and is taller than average.

Sir Oliver Ackerman - a Claes Knight. He is loyal and takes his duty seriously; is stoic and silent but kind on the inside. Is the youngest son of a knight family and a non-mage but his sword skills are impressive. He is a bit older than Anne; has dark hair and dark blue eyes.

Marquis Jacques Alarie - is an arrogant and ambitious man who seeks to increase his power and status. He hates Luigi Claes because he sees the Duke as an obstacle on his plans to increase his power and because he's jealous of the Claes' prestige. He is not above using underhanded means to get what he wants. He is a tall man that has slicked-back brown hair, a thick mustache, and brown eyes. Resembles Jacques Schnee from RWBY. A decently powerful water mage.

Marchioness Marla Catley - mother of Marsha Catley. She is self-satisfied and proud of her noble status, and she resents that her family was relocated into the far-off countryside - though she is unaware of the exact reasons. She genuinely loves her daughter and loathes Prince Gerald for traumatizing her after she attempted to ruin Katarina's reputation. She urged her husband to complain to the King, but he refused - fearing further punishment - and her continued pushing on the subject has strained their relationship. She used to have a crush on Luigi Claes and is jealous of Millidiana for marrying him. Has flaxen hair and green eyes; resemble her daughter, and is a strong water mage.

Dame Isadora "Dorrie" Alarie - a high-ranking royal knight. She is a dignified and serious person who prefers to keep her emotions subdued. Nonetheless, she is a kind and noble person who cares about her fellow knights and her younger siblings. She is Marquis Jacques Alair's oldest daughter, but she was disowned because she didn't want to get married and disagreed with her father's ambitions. She has dark brown hair and light brown eyes, is around the same age as Geoffrey and Suzanna, is a powerful water mage who specializes in ice magic.

Vincent Russell - the son of a marquis and an arrogant and entitled playboy. He enjoys fooling around with women and does not care about playing with their hearts. He is also rather sexist and condescending towards women. Think of Gaston from Beauty and the Beast but less brutish and boorish. He has fiery red hair and yellow eyes, is the same age as Katarina and company, and is a skilled fire mage.

Isaac Alarie - the youngest child and heir of Marquis Jacques Alarie, shares his father's arrogance and ambition. He likes to boss those of lower status than him, but he cares about his family and friends. While he is not above using some underhanded means to do things, he does have standards and lines he won't cross. Same age as Fray Randall and Ginger Tucker. Has brown hair and light brown eyes. He is a strong water mage with an affinity for ice.

The following characters are not really OCs but minor, nameless characters from the anime that I decided to give them names and backstories.

First, we have the girls who bullied Maria for bringing “commoner food” to the Student Council.

Violetta Vinet (purple dress) - the daughter of a marquis; is a typical spoiled and arrogant noble girl. She admires the Student Council in a fangirl sort of way and feels insulted that they have to put up with a commoner (Maria). She is a fangirl of Prince Gerald and hates that he is "stuck" in an engagement with Katarina Claes. She has average strength water magic The Vinet family owns vineyards and wineries.

Camellia Courtenay (reddish dress) - the daughter of a count; is a typical spoiled and arrogant noble girl. She admires the Student Council and feels insulted that a commoner is part of it. She is a Keith fangirl and always tries to get his attention; she believes Katarina purposely keeps Keith from falling for her. She is a fan of romance novels but keeps it a secret and mocks those who openly read them. She has average strength fire magic. The Courtenay family are subordinates of the Vinet Family.

Daphne Astley (light green dress) - the daughter of a viscount; is a typical spoiled and arrogant noble girl. She admires the Students Council, especially Mary, and feels insulted that a commoner is part of it. She hates that Mary has to "put up" with the unlady-like Katarina Claes. She has average strength earth magic The Astley Family are subordinates of the Vinet Family.

Malva Rossi (mauve dress; far left of the first image) - the daughter of a count; is a typical spoiled and arrogant noble girl. She admires the Student Council and feels insulted that a commoner is part of it. She has a crush on Nicol and always tries to get his attention and feels pity that he has to take care of his "cursed" sister. She has average strength wind magic. The Rossi Family are subordinates of the Vinet Family.

The girls who accused Katarina of bullying Maria (I’m only using the three girls in front since they were the ones more focused on):

Isabelle Alarie (girl in the middle) - the second daughter of Marquis Jacques Valier, the younger sister of Dame Isadora Alarie, and older sister of Isaac Alarie. She is spoiled, arrogant, and proud of her noble status. She was once a candidate for Prince Gerald's fiancée and hates Katarina for taking that spot, feeling that the other girl doesn't deserve it. Despite her hate for Katarina, she wouldn't dare to act against her directly - unless she is being manipulated or pressured - preferring to use more subtle methods. Despite this, she has standards and lines that she won't cross and cares about her family and her friends, Phoebe Lambert and Marguerite Delisle. She is a skilled water mage with an affinity for ice magic

Phoebe Lambert (girl with glasses) - the daughter of a marquis; is friends with Isabelle Alarie and Marguerite Delisle. She is very smart and intellectual, and while her scores are not high enough to be part of the student council, she is still amongst the top scoring students of her year. She is very proud of her intellect and looks down on students with lower grades that herself. She hates that Katarina is allowed to be in the Student Council Room despite her low grades, though she wouldn't confront her directly - unless she were manipulated or pressured. She genuinely cares about her friends and family. Her father is the Minister of Finance and she is a decently powerful earth mage.

Marguerite Delisle (girl with pigtails) - the daughter of a count; is friends with Isabelle Alarie and Phoebe Lambert. She is very spoiled and proud of her noble status. She hates Katarina because she is well-liked despite not caring about her position and because she's close to Nicol Ascart, whom she has a crush on, though she wouldn't confront her directly - unless she were manipulated or pressured. She genuinely cares about her friends and family and is a decently strong wind mage.

#otome game no hametsu flag shika nai akuyaku reijou ni tensei shiteshimatta #otome game no hametsu flag #my next life as a villianess all routes lead to doom #my next life as a villainess #hamefura #destruction flag otome #original characters

31 notes · View notes

imagine-that-haikyuu · 4 years

Note

could i make a silly tsukki x reader req? where her hair is up but a bunch of stray hairs are loose (bc she pulls them down from the ponytail) around her forehead n tsukki just pushes them away n she’s all “????” but he did it just so he could kiss her without her hair all in his face? idk why i thought this was so cute but 🥺🥺

It’s super cute 🥺🥺🥺 And I haven’t written anything for Tsukishima in a hot minute.

I’m running a raffle for the Marsha P. Johnson Institute. Winner will receive a 1000-word Haikyuu!!-reader insert of their choice. See this post for details.

- Admin Rachel Lauren

It happens after a long day of studying for exams. Tsukishima knows you’re super focused when you pull your hair up in such a high ponytail to keep your hair out of your face during your study date. Even he can’t help but think you look cute like that, with your face stern and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You leave him with little choice but to tease you about it.

“If you keep making that face, you’ll get forehead wrinkles before you turn thirty,” he chides with a slight laugh. You pout at his remark, looking up from your notes to shoot him a glare.

“Don’t be rude, Kei,” you say. “Or you can kiss these lips goodbye permanently.”

He laughs again as you take out your ponytail to retie it. Your hair falls down mostly in place. A few stray hairs cascade in front of your eyes and obscure your vision. Before you can collect them again, Tsukishima’s fingers brush against your cheeks. The stray hairs glide with his fingers as he pushes your hair back behind your ears. You stare at him skeptically, a faint blush spreading across your face.

“What are you--”

“Kissing those lips again in case you make me say goodbye permanently,” he says. His slight smirk gives away his playful attitude. His face closes in on yours, and you can’t help but oblige, allowing him to press his lips to yours. His kisses are always soft and gentle and linger to make you crave more.

He knows very well this won’t be his last time kissing you.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #request #admin rachel lauren #skinciiq

212 notes · View notes

girlactionfigure · 3 years

Photo

Happy 82nd Birthday! Ralph Lauren (born Ralph Lifshitz) is an iconic American fashion designer, philanthropist and best known for the Ralph Lauren Corporation, a global multibillion-dollar enterprise.

Lauren says he is proud of his Jewish heritage and celebrates the Jewish holidays.

“People ask how can a Jewish kid from the Bronx do preppy clothes? Does it have to do with class and money? It has to do with dreams.” – Ralph Lauren

Contributor: Lauren Shain

Humans of Judaism

13 notes · View notes

princesscallyie · 2 years

Note

Why do i feel miss mellows first name should be Marsha?

I mean I get it, but I don’t really see any reason for her name to be related to marshmallow besides it being a pun. I personally think it’s a bit much, it’s not like she’s a food related character or anything. Plus Mr. Stern doesn’t have a pun name so it’s kinda out of place for the duo.

#anonymous

5 notes · View notes

kururu418 · 2 years

Note

Honestly, I like the idea of soft girl assistant (like Marsha Mellow) who has a penchant for those trashy bodice ripper romance novels. She gets to listen to all the yelping and smacking from Mr.Stern’s office with big ol’ blush on her cheeks (secretly wishing it was her).

I could see her having a hidden kinky side to her. Maybe getting even more nervous/embarrassed whenever Mr. Stern asks her to help out with punishments.

#mr. stern #onelastfic

3 notes · View notes

j-elaine-hyde · 4 years

Text

The Townie

Part One

Chris Evans / Reader (Appearance by Henry Cavill)

All writing is my own original work, it is not posted or to be posted on any other platform. K Thanx bye. Enjoy!

You knew even before you moved there that the winters were going to be long and hard. Miserably cold was an understatement. You joked with your family about returning to the motherland. Moving back East was something you had thought about since you spent an amazing summer in Massachusetts with your great aunt. And now, 20 years later, you were doing more than just visiting.

Starting over in a new city held glamorous potential in your mind. You weren’t a fool, you knew it’d be hard to restart your business. You’d essentially be starting from square one- building it from the ground up, but if not now, when?

Here you were, four months later, moonlighting at a local “townie” bar to pad your income. It was down the street from your house and it gave you a chance to meet new people. At first they all gawked and poked fun at your southern accent, calling you a rebel. Confederate, they deemed, was too long of a nickname.

It was a slow night, only a handful of regulars were in the bar, when he walked in. He got a few glances from the regulars as he walked up to the bar, but no one made mention of his presence. He slid onto a barstool, sighed heavily, and made eye contact with you signaling for a drink.

“Hey there...What can I get you?” On the inside you were freaking out, fangirling that Chris Evans was sitting in front of you, on the outside you were calm and collected, acting as if you didn’t know who he was.

His deep blue eyes scanned the back of the bar and again they met yours. “I’ll just take a beer. Bud light. Draft please.”

You nodded and tapped your hand on the bar before grabbing a glass and filling it. You placed a coaster and the golden liquid in front of him and narrowed your eyes at him. “Get you anything else?”

He started to take a sip and then paused. “Shot of whiskey... pickleback. Please.” He took a long sip and set the beer back down.

“Hey Christopher... how’s ya family?” An old salty dog regular leaned back from further down the bar and nodded his head to him, gesturing with his beer.

“They’re good Mac... thanks.” He replied, as he tipped his beer to the gentleman, as you set the shot down in front of him. “Thank you.” Again, his blue eyes flashed and melted you inside, making your heart race faster.

“Hey rebel! Can I get some quarters?” One of your regulars was leaning on the end of the bar. The accent still made you giggle internally, quarters being pronounced quahtahs.

“Sure thing Jimmy! How many you want?” You were trying to keep your focus off of the gorgeous Mr. Evans, but you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away. You gave the patron quarters and refilled a couple drinks as Chris took his shot of whiskey.

“Christopher... Can you believe this peach we got in here now? Rebels’ a whole hell of a lot better lookin than old Marsha... don’t you think?” One of your very sweet older regulars, who had decided to continuously hit on you was making you blush. Granted he was old enough to your grandfather, but his comments were meant to be playful, and never crossed the line into inappropriate.

Chris looked up at you, his downtrodden expression softened, he smiled a genuinely sweet smile at you before looking back down at his beer, commenting before taking another swig. “She definitely is Benny.”

Over an hour had passed and most of your regulars had gone home. Thursday nights were always slow. Chris sat at the bar silently drinking while you cleaned up, doing prep work to close.

“Is your name really Rebel?” His sudden question startled you.

“No... my name is y/n. They call me rebel because I’m from the south.”

“Well I knew immediately you weren’t from around here.” He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, your heart racing. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Just needed a new start...” you shrugged.

“So rebel... where ya from?” He leaned back, stretching.

You hesitated before placing your hand on your hip, “Louisiana.”

He made a face while nodding, “How long have you been here?”

“Little over four months now.” You wiped down the bar trying to distract yourself from the growing urge to hop the bar and jump on him.

“Well Rebel... here’s a tip for you... the two best ways to make it through a New England winter is liquor...” he tapped his shot glass, “...and finding someone to keep you warm.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Well I guess I’m glad I have one of those things covered.” You glanced behind you at the wall of bottles.

“I don’t think a woman as gorgeous as yourself will have any trouble finding the second.”

You swallowed hard. Chris Evans.... Captain fucking America... just called you gorgeous. You blushed and lowered your face. You tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at him.

Before you could say anything, his phone ringing shattered the silence, you quickly turned away leaving him to answer his phone. You tabbed out the last remaining patrons and cleared their table as they said goodnight. It was now just you and Chris.

You could tell by the tone of his voice he wasn’t thrilled to be talking to whomever was on the other side of the call. You continued closing up shop as he finished it, ending the call with a stern, frustrated “FINE!”

He shook his head, sighing heavily. “Hey Rebel... could I get one more shot before you kick me out?”

“Sure.” You grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured another shot, silently placing it in front of him, grabbing his empty beer glass. He pounded the shot and set the glass down on the counter.

“Thanks... Say... Rebel, do you have any plans for Saturday night?”

Of all the days he could have asked you out.... the one night you actually had plans, in the four months you’d been there, the man of your dreams asks you out.

“I do actually... I’m sorry.”

“It’s just not my night.” He stood up, placed a hundred dollar bill on the bar and started to walk away. “It was nice meeting you y/n. I’ll see you around.”

Before you could even process that he had just asked you out, and that you hadn’t said yes, because you couldn’t, he was already out the door.

You rushed over and locked the door behind him. You were cursing yourself for not having said something like I do, but I’m free tomorrow night. Or how about we get brunch on Sunday. You cleared out the register, turned off the lights and locked up.

Clutching your keys in your hand, you held yourself tight trying to fend off the late night chill as you made your way to your car. You had just hit unlock when you heard someone behind you clear their throat.

“Hey Rebel... I just wanted to say goodnight. Wanted to make sure you got to your car safely. I didn’t want you out here by yourself....”

“Thank you... that’s awfully sweet of you Chris...” you turned around to see him standing there, hands shoved in his pants pockets, breath visible in the cold night air. “You didn’t have to do that... but I appreciate it.”

He smiled nervously at you, “Yea... no problem. Just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Both of you wanted to say something, but neither of you did. The two of you awkwardly stood there smiling at each other before the sight of you starting to shiver gave Chris the right push.

“Well... goodnight.” He rushed away to his car without another word.

The next morning you were having coffee and talking on the phone to the only real friend you had made. Her name was Marki and she was on the planning committee you had joined for your local real estate board.

“Girl I still can’t choose which of the two dresses i want to wear to the gala tomorrow... we might have to go last minute shopping to see if we can’t find anything else.”

The gala of course was the biggest charity event of the year. It was the top priority of the planning committee and seeing as how you had only recently joined, you didn’t realize just how big of a deal it was to everyone until the last month.

“I could definitely go shopping... wanna meet in about an hour?” You looked over at the black dress hanging on the doorframe of your guest room, suddenly underwhelmed at your choice.

“That’s perfect! I’ll just come by in an hour and pick you up. See you soon!” Marki was all consumed and excited. You figured the Chris news could be spilled another time.

Three hours and four stores later, you had found the perfect dress. It was gorgeous. It was a bright rich emerald green gown that fit you like it was made for you. It didn’t take much convincing from Marki and the store clerk for you to buy it.

You went to sleep that night staring at the emerald green gown hanging on your closet door.

It was finally gala time. Marki had come over hours before to get ready with you. She had brought two of her friends to help with hair and makeup. You felt like a movie star. You looked flawless.

Your stomach was a ball of nerves on the drive to the event. You were excited and nervous. Never one to shy from a good time, you were ready to meet new people and have fun with your friend. People from your office would be there, so the risk of not knowing anyone besides Marki was slim.

The two of you walked into the main hall and looked out at the sea of beautifully dressed men and women. Ballgowns and tuxedos as far as the eye could see.

“Let’s get a drink and then find our table. Yea?” Marki leaned over towards you to whisper in a hushed tone as she headed into the room.

You were standing in line at the bar when you felt a hand on the small of your back. “Hey Rebel...” He whispered in your ear, so close you could feel his breath.

“Chris!” You were completely surprised. “Oh my gosh! Hi!”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek, keeping his face close to yours he whispered, “you look absolutely stunning. I saw you the second you walked in. You took my breath away.”

Marki spun around at your exclamation of his name, her jaw immediately dropped open. Chris was still whispering in your ear when she caught your attention, mouthing “OH MY GOD” to you.

She quickly smiled, hiding her surprise as Chris pulled back to look at you, leaving his hand on the small of your back.

“Hi, I’m Chris.”

“Yea....” was all she could mutter.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle your laughter, “Marki, this is Chris. Chris this is my dear friend, Marki.”

“It’s nice to meet you...” he shook her hand as he immediately started scanning the room. “I’d introduce my friend, but it appears he’s been trapped in a corner by that woman in the purple dress.”

Both you and your shocked friend turned in the direction Chris pointed. There stood a trapped Henry Cavill.

TBC...

#chris evans #henry cavill #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #fiction

40 notes · View notes