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kotoku · 6 months ago

Note

May I request an Aventurine x Halovian!reader

No pressure, have a nice day, byee

[Runs]

ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

synopsis - Aventurine was always a regular at the bar you worked at due to it's reputation and closeness to the casino he frequented. As the weeks flew by, you couldn't help but gain feelings for the blond gambler yet you refuse to do anything with them. Turns out, it only took a Seven and Seven to seal the deal with him.

pairings - aventurine x halovian! reader

content - pining, drunk! aventurine, sober confessions, gagged reader

warnings - alcohol, a couple cuss words, possibly ooc aventurine, i tried focusing on the halovian part i'm sorry--

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

Working in a renowned bar had its fair share of perks and flaws. The perks were the free drinks you were able to make for yourself, the amount of tips you’d receive from dreamchasers, and lastly, the stories that you would hear from each and every individual. As for the flaws..you’d have to deal with drunk patrons who’d have no shame in flirting with you, getting a little too ambitious to where they don’t respect your personal space, and some of their messes (bar fights, vomit, etc…).

As common as these situations may be, you rarely have to go through them alone thanks to your coworkers and other helpful customers. These people as well as the regulars who frequent may be the sole reason why you decide to stick around, ignoring the pay and tips of course.

Currently, you are working the closing shift this time. You had always enjoyed working during the night, finding solitude in making drinks without having to run around all day. Although passing the time was difficult with the small number of customers, a slow night brought a moment of peace for your busy brain.

Hearing the familiar jingle of the bell signaling a customer snapped you out of your daze, putting down the wine glass you were just cleaning.

“Welcome, can I get you your usual, Mr. Aventurine?” You greeted, recognizing the familiar head of blond.

Aventurine was one of the bar’s regulars, always seeking out the place after he visited the casino he frequented. A gambler at heart, he truly knew how to swindle people of their valuables. And in this case, your heart.

Despite his flirtatious actions and compliments, you always maintained a healthy distance between the two of you, never wanting to get too close…

“You don’t have to be so formal.” Aventurine gave you a smug grin, brow raised in slight amusement. “But yes. You know me so well, don’t you, _____?”

And how badly that failed.

You knew you could never tell him your feelings, for you fear you misread between the lines and all you truly were was just a friend to the man. A simple-winged bartender who was easy to toy with.

You gave him a simple smile, preparing to make his drink. “I would hope so, you’ve been coming here for a couple of months now.”

There was a small pause.

You had heard Aventurine pulling out the stool from behind you, the crinkling of clothes as he took his seat at the bar. His gaze burned through your head, yet you focused on gathering the ingredients. Turning back around, you engaged in the process that you’ve performed numerous times.

“What have you been up to, Aventurine?” You spoke, attempting to ease the silence.

“Hmm, just some business matters with The Family. Other than that, I’ve been doing the same old thing.” He replied, toying with that chip he always had on him. You hummed in response, finishing up his drink.

“Seems a little troublesome. I’m glad this bar offers you a place to unwind.” Aventurine laughed.

“You know it.”

Sliding his drink over to him, you watched as he took it between his nimble fingers and swirled it around.

“What about you? Any patrons hitting on you again lately?” Aventurine chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. You rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Of course, they always try to smooth talk their way into bagging a date with me. Which normally never turns out well for them.” You picked up the wine glass you had set down and resumed cleaning, humming along to the songs resonating throughout the bar. “Thankfully no one has tried putting their hands on me thanks to people like you coming to my aid.”

There were a few cases where customers were banned from the site due to harassment, where they would pull on your wings or fling your halo around. Those kinds of people were rare to come by, but your manager would happily deal with them by throwing them out to the streets.

“Don’t mention it, we are friends after all.” Aventurine waved you off, giving you a polite smile.

Friends.

You could only give Aventurine a smile of your own as your actions slowed.

-----

Some time had passed and the bar was nearing its closing time. Customers were long gone by now except for the blond gambler who lay slumped against the wooden counter. His gloved hand was propped up so he was supporting his head, his half-empty drink in the other. He looked a little rough.

With a concerned gaze, you put up the last chair and slowly walked over towards him. With a gentle shake, he stirred a little before his eyes met yours.

“Mr Aventurine?” You softly spoke, taking a step back to allow him some space. Aventurine rubbed at his face a bit, mumbling about something before returning his focus to you.

“Don’t call me that. S’too formal.” He grumbled, his brows furrowed. “Just call me Aven.”

Aventurine struggled to form a coherent sentence, his words were slurred together and he’d stumble over what he was saying. It was obvious that the man was drunk just by his speech and his request to call him a cute, little nickname. Seeing him behave this way made you feel a little warm but more so worried.

“Ah, ok… Er– Aven, we need to get you back to your hotel room. It’s getting late.” You took his finished glass and cleaned it, stacking it away with the other glasses on the shelves. Throughout the time you were cleaning, Aventurine just sat there and watched, eyes slowly blinking as he would occasionally sway from side to side.

After you had finished the last of your routine, you helped Aventurine stand from his seat, pushing the stool in with your foot. You struggled at first to get him past the door in the darkness, but eventually, the two of you made it outside. The cool night air made you shiver a little, but due to Aventurine’s body heat, it kept you warm throughout your walk.

“Aven..can you lead me to your hotel room?” You asked, eyes darting to his sluggish figure as he stumbled next to you.

“Mmno… I feel so dizzy…” Aventurine mumbled, leaning his head against your shoulder. His breath would fan against your wings, causing them to twitch in response which he’d giggled at. Sighing, you decided to direct him to your place instead as it seemed like he was a bit too drunk to remember his hotel room.

Fumbling with your door keys, you managed to get the door open with your free hand, nudging the door with your foot. Kicking off your shoes, you flipped on the light switch that way you didn’t trip over any furniture or items that could be lying around.

“We’re here. Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll go get you some water.” Aventurine flopped onto the living room couch, clutching a pillow close to him as he sank into the plush furniture. You could hear him mumbling about something, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water, you returned back to where he was and took a seat next to him.

“Here, you should drink some water, Aven.” You nudged the water towards him but he wouldn’t budge, turning you away. It took some time and effort but eventually, you were able to convince him to drink it.

It didn’t surprise you that he was dehydrated since he finished the entire glass, taking it from him and setting it aside.

“You feeling better?”

“...”

No response. You figured that he was tired and needed some sleep.

You moved to go get a blanket for him but a sudden weight pulled you back down onto the couch, trapping you. Shuffling around in a panic, you could see Aventurine’s blond strands in your peripheral vision, his hold tightening on you as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck near your wing.

“Aven! Are you–?” You were interrupted by a groan, his head burying further underneath your wing. You were afraid that your halo would poke him, so you angled yourself in a way that would be comfortable for the both of you.

“So warm…” He tiredly murmured, cradling you closer to him.

It was certainly unexpected but also a little inappropriate, you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea when he woke up. You tried wiggling your way out of his grasp but he wouldn’t move an inch, his hold only growing firmer around you.

“Stop moving around so much,” Aventurine grunted, cracking a single eye open as he peered down at you. You obeyed, but you were too flustered to even make eye contact with him so your wings had moved to guard your reddening face. You heard him make a sound of confusion, his arms moving to prod them away.

“Hey… Let me see your pretty face.” He huffed, finger tugging at your wings.

Pretty!?

Now you really didn’t want to make eye contact with him, your wings firmly remaining where they are.

“You need to get some rest, Aven. You’re drunk!” You protested, trying to swat his hands away. He pouted.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Aventurine…”

“No.”

“Aventurine!”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Fine, I will, but you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Wh–”

Aventurine kept you in place in a spooning position so that way you had no escape from him. His face had resumed nuzzling into your hair this time, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo with a satisfied hum.

Your face was burning red at this point, stuck between wanting to escape his hold to staying where you are and living in your rom-com fantasy. You chose the latter.

With a defeated sigh, you made yourself comfortable. It looks like you’ll be here for a while…

-----

It had started to rain throughout the night, following into the next morning. The rain pelted against the glass windows of your house relentlessly, the sound putting your mind at ease. The smell of a familiar expensive cologne clouded your senses, reminding you of a blond gambler as you were about to drift back to sleep.

Wait. A familiar expensive cologne. A blond gambler.

Wait…

Your eyes flew back open, darting around the living room as you tried to locate Aventurine. The sound of a toilet being flushed and a door creaking open snapped your attention towards the bathroom, heart pounding in your chest as the memories from last night flooded back. You heard slow footsteps coming from the hallway, a small yawn coming from Aventurine as his eyes met yours.

“Oh hey, you’re awake. How was your sleep?” He casually asked, flashing you a small smile.

You sat there stunned, eyes blinking at him as he chuckled at your expression.

“Well, judging by the way you were clinging to me and your refusal for me to get up… I’d say you had an amazing good night's rest.” Aventurine’s smile morphed into a smug smirk, plopping down right next to you.

“Y-you–”

“Ah bup bup,” he shushed you, “I have a clue as to what happened last night. With my coat neatly folded up, my footwear being set next to the couch, my–” “Nothing happened!”

You interrupted, some of your feathers popping off due to the heart attack this stupid blond man was giving you. They had moved to cover your heated cheeks, leaving you an opening to look at the shit-eating expression Aventurine had on his face. You wanted to punch him right then and there, but you wouldn’t.

“Ohoh why so flustered? If you’re this embarrassed, then I can assume–” “No! You just passed out drunk on the couch and you refused to let me go! I-I would never do such a thing with a customer! Let alone if they’re drunk!” You cried, waving your arms in front of you. Aventurine pouted at you.

“Oh? And here I thought that I was special– that I meant something to you.” He dramatically sighed, falling back against the couch with an arm across his face.. “It seems that I read too far into your actions, dear _____.”

Your heart fluttered, confusion etched into your features at his words.

“Special? Reading too far into my actions? What do you mean?” You nervously chuckled, fiddling with your fingers.

Aventurine lifted his arm so it no longer covered his face, his magenta and cyan eyes piercing through your own with a gaze so intense it made you shiver. “I thought that it was obvious, _____.”

“What? What are you–”

Within a blink of an eye, he was now much closer to you. His hands which were no longer covered by his gloves gently tilted your chin up so you could look at him, his free hand interlocking with your own. You could feel the heat radiating off from your own face and his, growing hotter by the minute. You felt like you were going to overheat.

“I adore you a lot, _____.”

Yup, you were definitely going to overheat.

All you could do was gawk at him, mouth opening and closing as you struggled to get a word out.

“I-I–” Aventurine laughed, letting you go but still keeping your fingers interlocked.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I already know the answer.” He hummed, pulling you up from your seat. “Now…”

“How about I take you out on a date? Consider it as an apology for having you take care of me all night.”

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

#writing➠#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #fluff #drunk! aventurine #halovian! reader #sober confessions #pining #longing

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simphornies · 9 months ago

Note

AAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE YOUR VOX CONTENT SHDKSJSJSJ- The skrunkly TV man is fr my latest obsession hahahaha! If you don't mind, I'd like to request a Vox x fem!reader where reader just loves messing with Vox(leaving sticky notes all over his things just saying the cutest stuff, lipstick marks all over his monitor and not saying anything until everyone but him notices, teasing him at work, etc.)

- 🖥️ Anon

A/N: I love writing stories where the reader teases and messes with Vox. Please do send more when requests open back up!

Word count: 1.3k (1,311)

Warnings: suggestive behavior and ending

Distraction - Vox x F!Reader

Vox squinted at everyone that looked at him funny today. Which was everyone. He didn’t understand why he kept getting looks from his employees. It wasn’t until Velvette took a selfie with him before running off that he realized he’d been walking around all day with his screen covered in kiss marks. And he knew exactly where the culprit was.

You lazily sat in Vox’s office chair, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. You looked up and saw blue electricity making its way towards you. You leaned over his desk, head resting on your palm with a sneaky smirk on your face. “Hey Vox!”

“Y/N! You know I love you but why the fuck would you send me off for the day with my screen like this?” He screamed before leaning close to your face. You giggled in response, giving him another kiss that left a mark.

“You didn’t ask.” You grinned, winking at him, “And how else am I supposed to let other people know that you’re mine?”

Your words made his face turn red, “Th-that’s—” He cleared his throat after it cracked, “That’s nonsense! You don’t have to prove anything, you know I’m yours and you’re mine. Any sinner stupid enough to test their boundaries will learn.”

You hummed as you wiped his face clean of lipstick marks, “Not good enough for me.” After his face was nice and clean, you got off his chair and gestured for him to sit.

He sat down and you immediately climbed on his lap. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He sighs, kissing the back of your neck softly.

“So dramatic.” You giggled.

Vox wasn’t too busy the next day so he mainly stayed in his office, lazing around. It didn’t take long for you to happily waltz into his office. He was drinking his coffee when he looked up at you and immediately spat it out. “What are you wearing?” He coughed, “You didn’t walk around my building like that, did you?”

You laughed, “Heavens no! I came straight from my room to you. Do you like it?” You gave him a twirl, showing off your outfit with a wink. The outfit in question? A keyhole turtleneck with your laced bra peeking through. A laced bra he knew too well. It was your lingerie. You paired it with a skirt not too revealing but definitely hugged your curves perfectly with a small detail at the bottom that read ‘Vox’ with a heart.

He just stared at you after he recovered from his near death experience via coffee. “It’s…I like it.” He stuttered out. You walked around his desk and bent down to him.

“From how your eyes lingered, I’m going to safely assume you recognize something, huh?” You tease, “The powerful overlord wrapped around my finger all from a simple detail, how cute!”

“Pff! You’re the one wrapped around my finger.” He confidently says, his claw tracing his name on your skirt, “I’m free for a couple hours if you’re down for—”

Before he could continue flirting with you, you put a finger up to his lips. “I have a meeting to attend with Velvette, sorry babe.” You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before running out of his office.

He blinked, taking a little bit to process that you were indeed going out like that. He ran after you but you were long gone, already with Velvette. He groaned in frustration, jealous that other sinners will see you like that.

You sat by his feet in his security room, on your phone once again and bored out of your mind. You looked up at Vox, admiring how focused he was when he was working. “Vox?” You softly spoke.

He reaches down and rubs the top of your head, petting you. “Hold on, baby. I’m working.” He muttered, attention still on his screens.

You huffed in response, wanting attention from him. He’d been so busy all week that he’s been ignoring your…needs…as of late. Your eyes wandered from his face down to his pants. You grin mischievously and slowly drag your hand up his thigh, feeling him tense up underneath your palms.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” He looked at you.

“Hm? Oh nothing. Don’t mind me.” You looked at him with innocent eyes. “Nevermind that. What’re you looking at?” You get up and sit on his lap, purposely positioning yourself to tease him.

“I’m…” His hands held your waist, “I’m looking at how the stats are from this show compared to that one. I need to see which one’s losing revenue so I can switch it up.” He explained, his focus faltering.

You nodded in response and pushed up on him, “Ah. I see. How about you take this show off? Not a lot of sinners talk about it online and I haven’t seen any recent reviews on it.” You shifted to turn your body so you can look at him, your movement creating friction where he wanted it the most.

“Uh. Sorry what? Can you repeat that?” His grip on your waist tightened. You caught his attention.

“Hm?” You smirk at his reaction, getting up and relishing in the disappointment in his face, “Oh. This show. No more of this show. I think I’m…distracting you. So I’ll be taking my leave. Love you, honey.” You leave him with a kiss. You were already out the door before he could protest, leaving him with a different kind of distraction.

“Um. Sir—” A sinner spoke up behind him. He turned around, irritated.

“What is it?” He asks, his impatience clear in his voice making his employee nervous.

“Um! You have…you have sticky notes…on your face.” He nervously stated before running away at the sight of his reaction.

Vox zapped to the nearest mirror and saw the multitude of notes on his face.

“Property of Y/N” clearly written on one of them. The others were little doodles of the two of you along with little hearts. He blinked, confused and wondering when you had the chance to do this. Then it clicked.

You were very touchy earlier that day, constantly caressing his screen while he was deep in his work and peppering him with kisses all over. You didn’t wear lipstick so he didn’t think that you’d left anything on his face. How foolish of him to think you weren’t up to something.

“Y/N!” He screamed loudly down the hallway. You quickly get up, “Val! Don’t tell him I’m here!” You said as you hid in his gun closet.

Vox swung the door open, looking around the room. “Val. Where is she?”

Valentino squinted at him. He leaned closer to make sure the little blobs of yellow on his screen was exactly what he thought it was. When he realized they were indeed sticky notes he burst out into laughter, further flustering Vox.

“Quit fucking laughing and tell me where she is! I know she’s in here!” He yelled, screen a bright red.

Valentino took a picture of him and sent it to Velvette. “You look so fuckin’ hilarious.” He wheezed out as he gestured to your hiding spot.

Vox stomped over to his gun closet, swinging it open. You looked up at him, a nervous laugh escaping out of you. “Haha…Hey Vox!” You smiled.

He picked you up bridal style, walking to his room to punish you for being a little brat as of lately. Before he could make it to his room, an employee ran up and began to walk beside him.

“S-sir? You have meetings later tod—”

“Can’t you see I’m busy? Clear my schedule for the rest of the day.” He snapped at him and slammed his door.

Safe to say you got the attention you’d been begging for all week. And you definitely needed help to walk the day after.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel oneshots

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lexosaurus · 2 years ago

Text

Hello people who are getting into Danny Phantom through dpxdc!

I am not a dpxdc blog, but I am a gen dp blog. Here's a few things you should know about us:

👻 Most of us do not like Butch Hartman, the executive producer. We typically ignore him now. What you may not know is that while he was the "business guy" and the one who pitched the show, beloved artist and character designer Stephen Silver is actually the one who designed the characters for Danny Phantom (and, presumably, his team). Not only that, but he has also designed characters for many other shows of that era, including Kim Possible.

👻 Yes, we call ourselves the "phandom." We also, jokingly, sometimes put a ph in front of other things, like calling a fic a phic. It's a bit—don't take it too seriously.

👻 Yes, we have a subgenre of our fanfiction dubbed as the "dissection fic." While I may be a bit biased (as I've written a few), I think it's pretty good. You may enjoy it too if you like angst, who knows.

👻 No, you did not miss an episode, we collectively "made" an OC named Wes Weston who had the same character model as Danny but with a different color pallet. We just thought it was funny. You can read about his story here. The tl;dr is that he's the town crazy conspiracy theorist, he's the only one who knows Danny Fenton is Phantom, and he is constantly trying to prove it but nobody believes him. You remember Dib from Invader Zim? He's like Dib.

👻 On the contrary, you remember the finale of the show? That's okay, we don't either. Phantom Planet who? Never heard of her.

👻 But on the topic of adding things to fanon, the show's been off the air for decades. We're still around. Naturally, we've added things and made different AUs overtime. Different creators have different AUs they like, but you don't have to prescribe to any of them if you don't want. If you're confused about anything you see, feel free to pop me or anyone else an ask and we'd be happy to explain!

👻 There's also different bits of lore that were hinted on in canon that we've expanded. Things like ghost cores, half-ghost biology, worldbuilding with the ghost zone, ghosts having obsessions, dynamics at the school, etc. You're free to adopt or ignore whatever you'd like.

👻 The show is no ATLA, and it's a bit dated for its time, but overall it's a fairly fun background show you can throw on while you're cooking. If you've never seen an episode, I highly recommend watching at least a few fan favorites. I made a list here a while back, and I think it still holds up pretty well.

👻 We host a LOT of events. There's a full calendar of them here. You can assume these are crossover-friendly unless the event coordinators state otherwise (like in the case of phic phight). Feel free to join some!

Welcome, and have fun!

#danny phantom #lexospeaks #about the phandom

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sgiandubh · 7 months ago

Text

The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

#boozewars #business #fandom #shitshow

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victoria-daydreams · 4 months ago

Text

The Winner Takes It All ||Challengers

Part II: Maneaters

AN: I'm back y'all! I'm sorry for the delay in posting, classes are over but my god did work quickly fill the vacuum of the little free time I had. Buckle up everyone, we're experiencing our first time jump! And once again, a big thank you to has followed this story!

Trigger warnings: slight homophobia

Word Count: 6.1k

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopeless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kalikailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everydayimagineer @pnkstali @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey @summerssover @hummusxx @callumturnerwife23 @whitewashedghanian @brunettegirl @igotmajordaddyissues

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don’t know if you’ll get the notification.

Part III: The First Crack

13 YEARS LATER - NEW ROCHELLE, AUGUST 2019

In the mostly empty lobby bar of The Ritz-Carlton, a woman occupied the furthest seat of the counter, alone. Her eyes were glued to the screen of her iPad Air as vibrant, moving images reflected perfectly in her eyes. "Electric Lady" by Janelle Monae played in the background of the video while several women and a few men were dancing or goofing around against a lilac backdrop. The camera cut to a shot of a smiling woman, striking several posses for it, showing off the makeup flawlessly applied to her face. Suddenly, the woman was lightly shoved out of the frame by two laughing women all sharing resemblance of each other as they began using the camera as a mirror to apply lipstick or lip gloss. The camera zoomed in on the round and square tubes of the products, displaying the white lettering printed across it.

Another model popped up on screen doing a twirl before the camera focused in on the eye makeup painted on his face. Just as the music was slowly beginning to fade out, the camera positioned itself into an overhead shot, showing the set in its entirety. On both sides, models were crowding in front of mirrors inside a beauty bar. The woman from the beginning of the video confidently strode down the middle of the space, the camera slowly panning down to bring it down to eye level.

"Ace Beauty. Keeping your game face effortlessly chic and always classic," she recited smoothly, a charming smile on her face as she signed her name on the lens with lipstick.

Gianna stared at herself in the video, the end of her Apple Pencil pressed against her lips. Her own makeup line, Gianna could hardly believe that's a sentence she could say. It made sense to pursue the business endeavor though, her makeup looks off the court were always being discussed by her fans. Her Instagram comments were constantly flooded with questions: what techniques does she use, how did she achieve a certain look, what products is she wearing, etc. The makeup line scheduled to drop the same day as the start of the US Open Tournament, this of course was by design; what better way to promote your new brand than doing it on the same day when millions of eyes are already on her.

"You actually came,"

The sound of his voice made a grin tug on Gianna's lips.

"Well why wouldn't I, Patrick?" she questioned, placing the stylus down onto the bar. "I said I would I come, and here I am," she said, turning to look at the dark haired man with a laugh.

Gianna slid down from the stool and onto the floor, holding her arms open invitingly for an embrace. Though they were a few feet apart, she couldn't help but notice that Patrick was a little worse for wear. Like he was constantly at war with life itself and lost many battles in the process, but somehow was still here. Gratefully, Patrick accepted the hug, but Gianna was unprepared for how tightly he held onto her. He was like a child holding their favorite stuffed animal, it couldn't have been clearer to Gianna that Patrick was in need of comfort. In need of a friend.

"Okay, okay, Patrick, it's great to see you too buddy," Gianna said, patting his back lightly a couple of times. But you are squeezing the life out of me," she wheezed, and Patrick immediately released her.

He pulled back, running his hands down her arms while letting his eyes roam over her freely.

"You look damn good Gianna," Patrick complimented, shaking his head and laughing.

She shrugged her shoulders, "Hmm, I know," she agreed, twirling around in her ivory Ralph Lauren sleeveless jumpsuit. "You don't look so bad yourself, Patrick," she complimented back.

Those gray eyes, worn and tired, but still the same eyes that lit up whenever he had seen her. Still the same boy underneath it all.

"Come, sit with me," Gianna encouraged, walking back to her corner stool.

Taking a seat next to her, Patrick propped his arm up against the counter and leaned his head against his fist.

"How's your dad?" he wondered curiously, smirking a little.

A breathy chuckle escaped her, "It is very brave, kind really, of you to ask about the well being of my dad," Gianna commented, something which Patrick laughed at. "He's fine all things considered, misses coaching me, but with his heart attack it's best he focuses on his tennis academy. Less stressful," she answered, unlocking her IPad.

"And what does father dearest think about you coming to a challenger tournament to see me?"

Another laugh left Gianna, this one harder than the previous one, "You do not want to know," she warned, dragging her finger across the screen to start her makeup ad from the beginning.

"Come on, what did the old man say? You piqued my curiosity now," he said, wearing a challenging smirk.

Gianna's eyebrows shot up, her head tilting to the side to wordlessly convey the question of, "You sure about that?" It only made Patrick's smirk deepen.

"Alright, you asked for it, but don't say I didn't warn you," she began, lifting her hands up. "My dad said it was beneath me to even be anywhere in your proximity," Gianna answered bluntly.

"You know, I gotta admire the old man for his never wavering in his hatred of me," Patrick joked. "At least you still came and didn't listen to him like you would've before,"

"Yeah, I did take some words of wisdom from you the day we broke up," she admitted, looking over to him. "You were right, you know? I always allowed my dad's words to sway me much too easily," she remarked. "Though, you are wrong about one thing. My dad doesn't hate you. Initially, he did," she informed, watching Patrick's eyebrows rise. "No, what he hates is watching you squander the potential you had as a tennis star," she corrected, shrugging her shoulders.

"Ouch," Patrick said, pressing his hand over his chest in fake pain.

Gianna thought she saw a brief flash of hurt in his eyes, but in an instant, it was gone and she was forced to think she had imagined it.

"Listen, not saying this tournament won't work out for you, but if doesn't, I have a proposal that my dad is probably going to kill me for," she said, resting her arms on the counter.

"And that is?"

"I'll get you a position at the Maurice Langdon Academy as an instructor," Gianna offered.

Patrick's head jerked up from his hand, "You serious, Gia?" he asked, a glimmer of gratefulness shining in his eyes.

"Serve normally, and I can almost guarantee you that my dad will take you on," she assured, pointing her finger at him.

"This isn't charity, right?" Patrick asked, a flash of skepticism appearing on his face. "My dad, who's a big fan of yours and a donor to your dad's academy, didn't put you up to this?" he questioned.

"Patrick, the only person who put me up to this was me," she answered. "Plus, it's like what you told me over the phone, you have one good season left in you. Who's to say after this challenger you don't go on to achieve your dream," she suggested, shrugging slightly. "This is a job offer, Patrick, one that is waiting for you no matter which way the wind blows," she said simply, smiling at him.

Before Gianna knew it, she became the receiver of a very tight bear hug that seemed to last for an eternity. Patrick shook with laughter, the sound reverberating against her as Gianna found herself smiling at his reaction just before he pulled away from her.

"This is the kindest fucking thing someone has done for me in a longtime," he informed, his voice slightly muffled against her shoulder. He pulled back. "Tennis superstar, Olympian, philanthropist, fashionista, friend," Patrick listed, shaking his head as another laugh escaped him. "Is there nothing Gianna Langdon can't do?" he wondered.

She chuckled, "I'm still working on that last part," Gianna said, shaking her head. "I haven't been the greatest at it in the past," she admitted, her eyes lowering.

Patrick grabbed a hold of her hands, "But you're here now, Gianna," he pointed out, bending his head so he could meet her stare. "I called your number with little hope that you would pick up, but you did," he reminded softly, running the calloused pads of his fingers across the back of her hands. "Hell, I thought the moment I dialed your number it would go straight to voicemail," he confessed, with a small smile before the two shared laughter.

Gianna glanced up, "It means a lot to me that I was the first person you thought to call for support," she confessed.

"Couldn't think of a better woman to be in my corner," Patrick reasoned, letting a lopsided grin grow on his face.

Just like that, old butterflies that Gianna believed had gone dormant awakened inside her stomach, fluttering and flickering about wildly. Giggling, she slowly pulled her hands from Patrick's and ran one of them through her freshly silk pressed, honey brown hair.

"Control it," she thought.

She cleared her throat, "You forgot to add one more feather to my cap," she commented, deliberately changing the subject.

"And what's that?"

"Entrepreneur," she beamed proudly. "Patrick Zweig, you are looking at a future beauty mogul," she proclaimed.

"You know once upon a time, the woman in front of me was worried no one was going to take a chance on her, glad to see those worries were unfounded," he recalled, mirroring her expression.

"I am too," she agreed. "Want a sneak peek of the fruit of my labors?" she offered.

Answering with a grin and nod, Gianna unlocked her IPad and tapped play on the screen. Just as Patrick began to watch her commercial, Gianna let her eyes wander into the hotel foyer until they landed on a pair of strikingly blue ones. Her breath hitched uncomfortably in her throat, while her heart nearly stopped in her chest. For a fleeting moment, time suspended itself and it was as if they existed in a universe all of their own. Nothing was there, nothing except for those bright blue eyes, boring into her own. Gianna could hardly believe, stomach, who the set of eyes staring back at her belonged to, for it was none other than Arthur Donaldson.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as blood thudded audibly in her ears from the erratic rhythm of her heart beating. Gianna swore the thumping of heart would drown out the sound from the video and be heard by Patrick. They stare at each other, nearly a decade of unspoken words flowing between them without either of them ever opening their mouths. In truth, the silence was far louder than anything they could have said. Confused shock painted itself all over Art's features, an expression mirrored on her own.

Instantly, Gianna's mind was flooded with memories with the force of a tsunami. The two of them goofing off in her dorm room when they were supposed to be studying for class. Her birthday dinner date, that was not a date. His touching gift to her on her birthday which led to a moment of weakness that set off a terrible domino effect. Gianna remembered everything. The catalyst event which decimated a friend group within a single day, tore best friends apart, and formed a rift which Gianna believed would never mend. She couldn’t forget their history, it defined who they were now.

"Were those your sisters in the commercial?"

Patrick's voice was faint and faraway, everything for Gianna was muffled and distorted, like voices being heard underneath water. The impact of a hand on her knee ripped Gianna out of her trance. Blinking a few times, Patrick's face came back into her focus.

"I-I'm sorry what did you ask?" Gianna questioned, pointedly ignoring Art's eyes being trained on her and burning holes into her face.

"Was that Alicia and Farrah I saw in the commercial?"

"Yeah—Yes, they were," Gianna confirmed distractedly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You alright Gia? You've been looking over my shoulder for a solid minute now," Patrick remarked, raising a brow. "Is there someone you know here?" he questioned curiously, beginning to turn around.

Gianna had never moved quicker in her life, her hand darting out to grasp his chin with two fingers and redirecting his attention back to her. The world's awkwardest ex-friend's reunion was not going to happen on her watch.

"No one worth mentioning or addressing," Gianna assured, an easy smile on her lips. Releasing his chin, she lightly hit her palm against the counter. "Let’s have a drink, yeah?" she suggested, getting the bartender's attention.

"To celebrate you or me?"

"You, silly," she answered, before motioning to her drink for a refill and ordering for Patrick. She still knew his drink of choice despite the passage of time. "And a little bit of me as well," she admitted playfully, moving her head side to side. "I'm serious though, Patrick. I know how much this tournament means to you and how much you have riding on it. I am proud of what you accomplished, truly," she praised, her eyes twinkling in delight.

"Receiving high praise from Gianna Langdon," Patrick began, as their drinks were slid across the counter in front of them. "I'll be damn near unstoppable on the court now," he joked, grabbing his glass.

Gianna grabbed her own drink, "To future successes," she wished, raising her glass.

"To future successes," Patrick echoed, the rim of his glass softly clinking against hers. They both take a sip of their drinks and Patrick grinned against his glass as if he just remembered something. Lowering the cup from his lips, he placed it on top of the counter. "I forgot to wish you a happy belated," he mentioned.

"Birthday?" Gianna asked, bringing her glass down from her mouth. "That was way back in early spring, but thanks regardless," she said, with a laugh.

"No, silly," Patrick said, with a grin. "Happy belated Pride! Congrats on coming out as bisexual!" he cheered.

"Oh fuck off!" Gianna said, laughing heartily and hitting his arm.

"What? It was very brave of you to do so," he complimented, laughing himself.

With a playful roll of her eyes, Gianna shook her head.

"Bravery had nothing to do with it," she corrected. "I mean, it's what I am. I discussed coming out to the public with my dad, and he said no better time to do it than in the month where it celebrates folks like me," Gianna recalled, shrugging and lifting her glass to her lips. "I'm already a beloved athlete, it was only going to be a net positive for me," she reasoned, leaning back against the backrest of the barstool.

"Always about the optics with you, Gia," Patrick said, his tone biting.

Gianna lifted her drink to her lips, "I am my father's daughter," she said dryly. "For better or for worse," she added quietly, knocking back the rest of her drink.

~~~x~~~

13 YEARS EARLIER - STANFORD UNIVERSITY, 2006

Move-in day was hot. Scratch that, it was scorching outside underneath the California sun. The blistering heat made the task of transporting Gianna's belongings to her dorm room a miserable one. The thought of forgoing her clothes all together floated about in Gianna's head if it meant some relief from the heat. Though, she knew her mom and dad would be none too pleased at the gesture, especially since the two helpers in their amidst was Art and Patrick.

Being the ever helpful boyfriend, Patrick lent his hand in assisting both Gianna and Tashi move into their dorm rooms. Despite his helping hand, Gianna's dad was still none too impressed by Patrick.

"I don't like it, he's too arrogant for my liking," the salt-and-pepper haired man groused, shaking his head, clearly displeased by Gianna's taste in a boyfriend.

Mrs. Langdon snorted softly from her seat within the trunk of their truck.

For as long as Gianna could remember, her mother had always exuded an air of sophistication and chic that she hoped she could match one day. Of course, when her mother being a former American Ballet Theatre ballerina, it came with the territory. People always told her she had mother's soft face or most commonly said she, “stole her whole face from her momma”. To Gianna, her mother was absolutely stunning, like straight out off the front cover of Ebony magazine. More importantly, her mom was the yin to her dad’s yang, her gentleness balanced his sternest.

"What? He's just a younger version of you Maurice, but," she paused, tapping a finger to the palm side of her hand and smiling at her husband.

"Well, unlike him, I didn't have wandering eyes," he retorted, taking off his horn rimmed glasses, to wipe away the fog from his lenses. "Gia, darling, are you sure that Patrick is dating you for you, or because of your access to Tashi?" Mr. Langdon questioned sincerely, his brow arching.

"Ohh, this is awkward," Gianna thought.

Telling her mom and dad she and Tashi were both dating Patrick, she would simply have to be waterboarded for them to get that information out of her.

"Patrick is dating me for me," Gianna reassured, nodding her head while wiping at the thin line of sweat trickling down her forehead.

"Your dad is worried about Patrick, while my concern is with your friend, Arthur," Mrs. Langdon stated, shifting her body to face Gianna fully.

"Art?" Gianna repeated, disbelief all over her face. "What, come on? Art is probably the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met," she defended, an incredulous laugh belting from her.

"Honey, those are the ones you have to be the most careful of," Mrs. Langdon warned, placing her hand on Gianna's knee. "Boys like Art, are able to get away with much because people believe the same way as you do," she explained. "I've seen the way he looks at you, how he looks when you and Patrick get affectionate with each other," she noted, staring pointedly at Gianna. "I say this as your mother, as a woman, be careful around Art. I fear he's the type to throw stones and then hide his hands, if it means getting what he wants," she advised.

Gianna rolled her eyes, "Mom, that's ridiculous," she protested.

"Gia!"

"Speak of the devil," she thought.

Standing at the doorway of her dorm building was Art with his trademark backwards Stanford hat and a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"I guess that's our sign to hit the road again," Mrs. Langdon noted, with an exhale. "Your dad and I still have to go to UCLA to visit Farrah and make sure she's all squared away for her sophomore year," she reminded, pushing herself up from the trunk bed and reaching her hands out for Gianna.

"Call me the moment you make it to campus," Gianna ordered, taking her mom's hands to jump down onto the ground.

"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Langdon answered, nodding her head and chuckling. She ran her hands up and down Gianna's arms, giving her a once over. "Can't believe I'm dropping off my baby girl to college!" she exclaimed, bringing her in for a tight hug. "One step closer to being a big name tennis superstar!" she cheered, as Gianna returned her hug. "I'm so proud of you!" she stated, pulling back from her.

Gianna beamed at her mother's words as the older woman pressed a kiss atop of her head.

"Your mom offered you some words of wisdom, now it's my turn," Mr. Langdon said, gathering Gianna in his arms for another tight embrace and swaying them side to side. Pulling away, he gave her biceps a squeeze as his demeanor became a little more serious. "Don't let her run you," he instructed vaguely.

Gianna frowned, "What?" she questioned, her head tilting.

"Do not let Tashi Duncan run you," he repeated slowly. "You've allowed her to get away with it for too long, but starting today, that shit dies," he said sternly.

"Tashi does not run me, Dad," Gianna disagreed, scoffing quietly. "I think we both witnessed that at Juniors this year," she pointed out.

"You seem to have a great handle on that, tennis wise," Mr. Langdon began, pressing his palms together. "But for life in general, you're lacking severely," he retorted. "Let this be the last day I ever hear you say the words, 'Tashi says', 'Tashi wants', or 'Tashi believes', alright?" he questioned, staring over the rim of his glasses. "I'm trying to make you a superstar, not a sidekick to another superstar. It's time you shed that image once and for all, and to do that, you must start thinking for yourself. Making a name for yourself. Got it?" he asked, both his brows raising.

"Yes, sir," Gianna answered tightly.

Mr. Langdon nodded approvingly, "Atta girl," he replied, before bringing her in for a second hug. "Have fun in college, but not too much fun," he murmured, against her head. "Kick ass and take names, we have a dream to fulfill," he said, with a pat against her back.

"Yours or mine?" Gianna thought bitterly.

Her dad released his hold on her, moving to shut the trunk door close. Gianna watched her parents get into the truck, the doors slamming close in unison.

"Gia, just please consider what I said earlier, for me," Mrs. Langdon said, looking back at her from the passenger seat.

"Yeah, I will, I will," she answered, brushing off her mom's concerns.

With one final wave, her parents pulled off from the parking lot and Gianna felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. She was finally free. For the first time in her life, Gianna would be able to navigate life where tennis and her dad were not wholly the center of her universe. She now had the chance to do something she always dreamed of doing, just being a normal 18 year-old. Exploring old hobbies and new, hanging out with friends, going to parties, it was all there for the taking now that her dad could no longer constantly breathe down her neck. Smiling to herself, Gianna turned around and jogged to the entrance of her dorm building where Art patiently waited for her.

"Everything good?" Art wondered, as she climbed the last step up.

"Never been better!" Gianna answered, a delighted smile on her face.

Walking past him, she nimbly snatched Art's hat from his head and ran into the building.

"Hey!" he cried playfully.

Gianna sprinted up the staircase to her floor, giggling every step of the way as Art was hot on her trail and laughing along with her. Just as she approached the doorway to her room, she suddenly felt herself being lifted off her feet and spun around, briefly feeling weightless.

"Your girlfriend is a thief!" Art informed breathlessly, with a laugh as he put Gianna back down on her feet.

Another series of giggles left Gianna as they entered her room, "Do not listen to such slanderous lies! I'm innocent!" she proclaimed, placing Art's hat on her head.

Making a beeline to her bed, she plopped down on it next to Patrick who was casually stretched out across the mattress. In an instant, his arm naturally wrapped itself around Gianna's waist while he shifted himself into a sitting position.

"Look at this face Art," Patrick began, using his free hand to take her chin in between his fingers and playfully squeeze her cheeks. "Does this look like the face of a thief?” he questioned. Gianna shook her head in his grasp, her eyes warm with mirth. "Exactly Gianna, that's what I think as well," he agreed, before swooping down to attack the side of her face with kisses.

"Patrick!" Gianna shrieked in laughter, writhing in arms.

Tashi started making fake gagging sounds and Gianna eyes flickered over to hers.

"Don’t be like that Tash," she said, a fake pout on her lips. "There's plenty of love to go around," she reminded, outstretching her hand towards her girlfriend.

"You sure about that?" Tashi asked, her face contorting in a look of faux outrage. "Because it seems like Patrick is hogging you all to himself,"

Gianna only snickered in response, her eyes rolling before meeting Art's stare. It made her smile falter when she did. There was the faintest twitch of a muscle in his jaw, a scowl threatening to cloud his features. His eyes hardened at the edges to the point they resembled ice. And she was the only one noticing the drastic shift in Art's cheery demeanor, it sent shivers down her spine. Vaguely, Gianna felt Patrick's lips peppering kisses up and down her neck while talking to Tashi in between each one. Without taking her eyes off Art, she reached behind her and lightly tapped the side of Patrick's face.

Gianna cleared her suddenly dry throat, "Alright, alright, easy there lover boy," she joked, tearing her eyes from Art's face for a quick glance to his throat where his Adam's apple bobbed in agitation.

Patrick chuckled against her skin and pulled away from her, resting his back against the wall while bringing her down with him.

"So uh, what do you guys wanna do now?" Art wondered, his usual bright attitude returning without missing beat. "The day is still young," he added, lowering himself down to have a seat onto the plush rug covering the floor.

"Hmmm," Gianna hummed in contemplation, adjusting Art's hat to fit snug on the top of her head.

It was an action that left Art's gaze lingering on her. Gianna wished he would quit staring at her like he was a man dying of thirst, ready to drink her up and gulp down like a glass of water when placed in front of him. And it was not because she found it creepy, it was the fact that it was stirring up physical and emotional responses she should not be having when her boyfriend and girlfriend are literally in the room with her.

"I think—" Gianna began.

"We should go hit around on the courts," Tashi suggested, swiveling back and forth in the desk chair. "Can't think of a better group to do it with," she reasoned, her lips curling upwards.

"What? Oh come on, no!" Gianna complained, raising up from Patrick's chest. "We're all gonna have plenty of opportunities to hit a tennis ball around the court," she said in exasperation. "We're in college guys—well most of us are in college," she corrected, earning her a squeeze to her side from Patrick. "Let's be normal college kids and have some fun for once and enjoy our freedom," she suggested.

"What did you have in mind Gia?” Patrick asked, his fingers softly trailing up and down her waist.

"There's a mini golf course not too far from campus. I saw it on the way here with my parents," she answered, looking around at everyone.

"That does sound fun to do," Art grinned, nodding his head in agreement.

"Gia, you know complacency breeds mediocrity," Tashi warned.

"God, does she sound like dad!" she thought.

Gianna spoke before she could stop herself, "Yes, and, being hyper focused on one, single thing makes a person super fucking boring too," Gianna shot back.

The swiveling of the chair came to an abrupt halt. Gianna could almost physically feel all the air sucked out of the room. Nobody moved and Gianna found herself engaged in a staring match with Tashi in a battle of wills.

"Are you calling me boring?" Tashi challenged, her eyes narrowing.

Art breathed out a nervous chuckle, "Tashi, I don't—" he started.

"No, no, let Gianna answer," Tashi interrupted, holding her hand up in his direction without looking.

"Yes," Gianna thought.

"I didn't say you," Gianna pointed out. "It was a generalized statement," she continued.

"Is that so?" Tashi asked, doubt coloring her tone.

"Yeah, it is," Gianna answered, arching her brow in challenge.

"Come on Tash," Patrick called, sitting up from his spot against the wall. "It's not a bad idea, all of us are going to have our hands full for the next couple of months," he said, his eyes dancing between the two girls.

"We can make it a going away party for Patrick before he's off to the pros," Art chirped in.

"Yes, exactly Art!" Patrick agreed. "And what better way to be sent off than having my two, beautiful girlfriends by my side,”

Gianna stole a quick glance at Art after hearing Patrick's words and she swore she saw his forehead vein pulse with unusual intensity.

"Okay, fine," Tashi huffed, and Gianna's eyes flitted from Art back to her.

Gianna softly pushed Patrick's arm from her waist and stood up to sit on Tashi's lap.

"It'll be fun, Tash!" Gianna promised, looping her arms around Tashi's neck. "You'll see," she encouraged, pecking her forehead.

"Yeah, yeah," Tashi groused.

~~~x~~~

With pursed lips, Gianna drew her arms backwards then forwards to make sure that the little, white ball was aligned with her club before gently swinging at it. The precise hit sent the ball rolling down the green in a perfectly straight line, right into the hole.

"Nice shot Gia!" Art cheered, sticking his hand out for a hi-five.

"I try," she smirked, slapping her hand against his. "Your turn, partner," she said, motioning him to take his position.

It was Gianna's idea to split the group into teams, that way both Gianna and Tashi could both somewhat get what they wanted, a fun but fierce competition. Art set his ball onto the green, getting into his stance and took aim.

"So, are we gonna talk about it?" he asked, the club solidly hitting the ball in the center.

Gianna frowned, "Talk about what?" she asked back, watching his ball stop just short of the hole.

Art turned around, an incredulous look crossing his face at her question.

"What happened in your hotel room," Art supplied as if it was the most obvious answer, before moving closer to his ball.

"Oh, that..." Gianna trailed off, following behind him. "What about it? What is there to talk about?" she questioned dismissively, twirling her club in her hand.

Just as the questions left her lips, Art tapped his ball into the hole with ease.

"That what happened between us is constantly replaying in my head 24/7," he explained, turning around again. "And it's torturous," he went on, his eyes desperate.

Gianna only blinked in response, genuinely perplexed on what Art wanted her to do or say about that.

"Well get it to stop," Gianna suggested lamely, lazily tossing one arm up. "I don't know what you want me to tell you," she added, with a shake of her head.

"Get it to stop?" he repeated, in disbelief while taking a step closer to her. "Gia, you gave me a handjob!" he exclaimed lowly, so only she could hear. "You can't do that to a guy and expect him to just forget it!" he insisted.

"What I did could hardly qualify as a handjob, Art," Gianna argued, her voice matching his. "It was one pump at max," she pointed out.

Gianna knew this was childish, to be arguing the technicalities of what is a handjob, but she needed to quash what she thought Art was poking at. They didn't need to talk about that ever again, it was… it was a good time, it basically meant nothing. All she had to do was bury her budding feelings deep down, and make an active effort to never acknowledge them again.

"Why did even tell me this, knowing I'm dating your best friend?" Gianna questioned, anger rising in her voice.

"Because despite that, I think you like me too," he countered, his frustration growing more palpable by the second.

"Look Art, we had some fun in my hotel room. You, me, and Patrick, we all did," she deflected, shaking her head again. "Fun," she emphasized.

"Fun? That's all that was?"

God, did she feel like a bitch, watching Art's face crumple made her almost reconsider everything, but she was in too deep now to back out now.

"In that instance, yes," Gianna answered bluntly, watching how that verbal blow knocked the wind out of him. "I'm sorry, did you think it was more?" she asked coldly.

With each word she uttered, it visibly pained Art and the lines in his forehead grew deeper and deeper. He looked like a kicked puppy, and god did she hate when he looked like that. Silence fell between them, the most uncomfortable silence of Gianna's life.

"Fuck! This was supposed to be a fun night!" she groaned, before turning away from Art and walking away from the hole they were at.

"You never denied it," Art remarked, his words were spoken softly, barely a whisper, but to Gianna they were deafening. So much so, that she abruptly froze mid step, her shoulders visibly stiffening. "That you had feelings for me," he finished quietly.

Gianna was like a deer in headlights. She had hoped the harshness of her words would cause Art to fail to notice what she didn't say. He was far more attentive than she realized. Swallowing uncomfortably, Gianna all but sprinted to where Tashi was, not daring to look back.

"Hey Tash," Gianna greeted, forcing a smile on her face as she approached her. "How's your game going? Where did Patrick go?" she questioned, praying she wasn't noticeably acting strange.

Tashi didn't bother looking up at her, "Oh, you know," she began, her voice monotone. "It goes," she answered, barely making an effort to hit the golf ball into the hole. It pitifully only moved a few feet from them. "Patrick, on the other hand went to buy food for us," she answered flatly.

Gianna felt her grip tighten around her club, "You know could at least make an attempt to actually try and have fun," she commented.

Tashi's head whipped up, a frown already etched on her face.

"I didn't want to come here in the first place, and you know that," Tashi stated, carelessly letting the golf club fall from her hand. "Fun, fun, fun. That's all you seem to care about now!" she snapped, folding her arms against her chest.

Gianna rolled her eyes, "Excuse me for daring to indulge in my newfound freedom from being under my dad's thumb for the first time in years," she responded sarcastically.

"I'm sure he'll be just thrilled to learn the placeholder for his own lost dreams immediately took her eyes off the prize the second he left her alone," Tashi said, a derisive chuckle leaving her.

"Fuck you! That's a low fucking blow even for you Tashi!" Gianna hissed, stabbing her finger in the air toward her best friend. "I pray you never find yourself in the same position which I've been put through," she wished.

Once upon a time, much like Gianna, her father was a talented tennis prodigy who was on the cusp of a promising career in the pros. However, just as his career started, it was snatched away within a blink of the eye with death of his father, forcing him to return home to take over the family horse ranch. And Gianna has had to suffer for circumstances beyond hers or her father's control ever since.

"You don't know what it's like, to have your own dad be your coach as well," Gianna went on, her fist balling up. "And being forced to reckon that you begin to see him as less of a father and only as a coach," she added, faintly feeling her nails digging into her palm.

"Poor fucking me, I'm Gianna Langdon who's had a silver spoon in my mouth since I could walk," Tashi mocked. "My life is so difficult because I have to play a sport I'm wonderful at and my dad has went above and beyond to make sure I excel at my craft, like having a fucking personal tennis court built in my backyard!"

"And you think that's a blessing?" Gianna asked, the pitch in her voice rising. "It was a curse! My own personal gilded cage, a constant reminder that I've never really had any say at all to explore life outside of tennis," she exclaimed, dropping her own club now.

"You like baking,"

"Ooh one whole hobby," Gianna deadpanned, raising her hands and shaking them. "You know what you're supposed to do at college besides learn?" She questioned. "Party and find yourself,” she listed, ticking them off with her fingers.

"You're at Stanford to play tennis on a full ride scholarship," Tashi reminded firmly.

"Well it's a good fucking thing I can multitask," Gianna retorted. "Come on Tashi, think about it. Outside tennis, what else do you and I do in our spare time? Talk about boys?" she said exasperatedly.

"Yes, and its worked for us this entire time. Why change now?" Tashi replied, a soft frown creasing her forehead.

"Because we were friends then, but now we're girlfriends—"

Tashi scoffed, "Girlfriends? You haven't even publicly came out and stated that we're dating," she pointed out.

Gianna could only bite her tongue, because Tashi was right, she hadn't. Although, she had her reasons, they were wholly self-serving, but there was logic behind them.

"I know you haven't told your mom," Tashi began. "And I know damn well you haven't said anything to your dad," she stressed. "So, what is it? Are you afraid of ruining your ‘golden child’ title if your parents find out you're queer?" she taunted.

"You think my parents care if I'm gay?" Gianna asked incredulously. "They've known Farrah is a lesbian for nearly two years now," she informed.

"She plays women's soccer, I'm positive your parents weren't surprised about that revelation," Tashi said dismissively. "The closet was made of fucking glass," she quipped.

If Gianna wasn't so frustrated and infuriated with Tashi, she would've laugh at Tashi's remark.

"Alright, fuck it, you want to know why I don't to want go public? Why I refuse to?"

"I'm waiting with bated breath," Tashi answered sarcastically.

"It's because I have a goddamn name and image to uphold," Gianna said frankly. "We both do," she added, her tone softening.

"Oh my god!" Tashi complained. "It's always about image with you, with your dad!" she snapped.

"I'm being pragmatic here and you know it, you're just being too stubborn to realize I'm right," Gianna claimed, crossing her arms.

"Billie Jean King, a tennis legend is an open lesbian,"

"Yeah, and did you skip over the part where she was forcibly outed, shunned, and lost all her endorsements soon after?" she shot back. "Do you want that fate for the both us when either of us have barely even made a start in our careers?" Gianna questioned, no trace of anger in her voice only sincerity.

Tashi never got the chance to respond as an arm snaked its way around Gianna's waist.

"Now, what are you doing around in these parts?" Patrick asked humorously. "Is Art doing that bad you had to switch sides?" he guessed.

Gianna looked over at him, "I came to see how you two losers were doing," she lied, grinning at him.

Her eyes found Tashi's once more, their argument from moments before still raging silently between in stares, and all the while Patrick is none the wiser. He didn't notice the obvious growing tension between his two girlfriends, between two best friends.

Part IV: Cocky Af

#black!reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan x reader #challengers x reader #black fanfiction #black!oc #challengers fanfiction #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig

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counterfics · 8 months ago

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DOWNSHIFTING BOUNDARIES PART 4.2 (FINAL)

♡ Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader SMAU ♡ Requested: Yes | you can send in your own requests here <3 ♡ Warnings: Cussing, Name calling, Gossiping, Potential misspellings, Rushed text dialogue? Female reader, Reader being a bad bitch (If more let me know) ♡ Desc: Rumors are not new to the f1 community, but when a f1 gossip page digs into a certain driver’s life and puts details of their private life on blast it starts to become an issue. With fans coming to their own conclusions and developing their own stories how will their relationship prevail through it? What new information about the driver and his personal relationship will be revealed to the public? Keeping boundaries up between you and your fans is quite a difficult task that Charles soon realizes. ♡ Notes: Please feel free to interact, and tell me what you think of the series! It really helps boost my confidence!! Also don’t feel shy to send asks or just talk to me i'm in need of mutuals and more ideas to create!! This is the final of the series, might add more mini blurbs here and there for it but no more big parts, so send in ideas for more things to write please!!! I was really happy with how I planned out part 3 and 4 in my notes honestly its pretty funny, if yall wanna see my thought process lmk LOL. I kinda feel like the ending was rushed so I apologize ♡ Guide: f1 masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4.1| part 4.2 FINAL

♡ DO NOT STEAL, TRANSLATE, OR COPY MY WORK ONTO ANY OTHER PLATFORM !! ♡ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | Inbox | previous part | series masterlist ♡ sidenotes: I have made a forum that you can fill out to be added into taglists in general, you can still request to be added via asks, etc.. also thank you all for following the series so far it really means a lot to me! This finally got me back in the spirit to look forward to making things and writing again! Please reach out with ideas or just for a chat as I am lonely and need to keep myself occupied and busy! ♡ Taglist: [Some could'nt be tagged, you can fill out this form to be added to a general taglist if you would like since this is the final part of the series!] @stinkyjax @thef1diary @a-beaverhausen @ireadthensuetheauthors @dutifullyannoyingfox @ushygushybaby @janeholt3 @obsessedovermadrid @bokutos-babyowl @multi-fandom-fan221b @shiftermeance @mxdi0 @d3kstar @boiohboii @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @loloekie

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vxsellie · 2 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ WILD WEST !

— this is just to give u a visual for the world building in ‘tangled bones’. all of the pictures are from pinterest & every town / city / and house depicted is made up, & not at all historically accurate!!!

this will be added to the start & end of each chapter so it's easily accessible. i just wanted to make the little world in my head more tangible for myself while also making my story more digestible for you! if you have any questions or would like certain areas / places added that are mentioned, just ask & i'll be more than happy to indulge you

<< back to masterlist !

UPTOWN

significance. where the strauss family resides

residents. this little town is home to those wealthy enough to sustain living here. rich farmers, business owners, mining rig owner, etc find themselves in uptown due to it being closer to wealthy customers and the railway station that journeys in & out of the town.

desc. uptown is located in the very center of the west, the heart of trade and commerce to all of those involved. thin patches of grass grow here, but it struggles to thrive. brick streets are lined with homes and businesses, the construction maintained and kept nice when compared to any of the neighboring towns. uptown is so large with such a lively population that many consider it a city, seeing as it's on the brink of being deemed one.

STRAUSS RESIDENCE

significance. where our main character, charlotte strauss, grew up ; the house she ran away from.

residents. homes the esteemed strauss family which consists of three members, mother father and daughter. francis strauss, the man of the house, upkeeps the land and provides income to sustain living here. bonnie strauss, francis's third wife, raises her only child within the walls of the home whilst also cooking & cleaning for her little family. charlotte strauss, the only heir to the strauss lineage, was born and raised within this house, birthed in the very bathtub upstairs. this home is all she's known for her entire life. no wonder she had to get out.

desc. the exterior of the strauss residence is depicted in the last image of the 'uptown' section. the home is built of pale blue wood and large white columns, vines and dust tracing the corners of the building. the interior is decorated small and homey, white walls and mahogany flooring and hanging chandeliers.

GOLDENEDGE

significance. where both ellie and joel currently live.

residents. very few people live in goldenedge, the land do vast and far apart that it doesn't exactly have an exact population number. mostly farmers inhabit this land, using its size for crops

desc. deep orange desert sand coats the land, dirt roads and cattle the only sign of life. houses are hundreds of acres apart, neighbors never seeing one another unless meeting is priorly planned. cows and sheep are free to roam the land, so desolate that there's nobody around enough to complain. farmers love this land, fields and hay bales dotting the horizon.

ELLIE'S HOUSE

significance. where the love interest, ellie williams, currently resides.

residents. ellie lives alone in her tiny house, happy in her own company as long as she has the consolation of knowing that nobody will come knocking on her door asking for sugar. she's considered adopting a cat or dog, but sees no point in it due to her rarely being home & always elsewhere ⎯ whether that be out bounty hunting or out drinking with her boss, joel miller.

desc. located in goldenedge ; her house built literally in the middle of nowhere. joel is her closest neighbor and he's about fifteen miles away. ellie prefers it this way, though. the house is white, the paint beginning to chip on the outside. she has a small wrap-around porch where she sits and drinks with joel, overlooking her horse stables and swishing grass. her kitchen has a tiny circular table, only needing two seats ⎯ one in case of joel randomly visiting her (which he does quite frequently). it's decorated lazily, tools and random pictures nailed into the wall haphazardly and without much thought. somehow, though, over the years it's turned into an actually well-decorated space. it's messy at times, but it's cozy and lived in. it's home.

RUBY RIDGE

significance. where most fugitives (including charlotte) are found by bounty hunters.

residents. home to those too poor to afford living in uptown, but wealthy enough to not end up in deadwood. people who live here mostly consist of drunken old men here to gamble and drink, or outlaws running from ellie & joel while trying to sell illegal products to the drunken men. brothels and bootlegging shacks thrive here.

desc. the streets are made of dirt, the buildings on either side made of rotting wood and cheep nails that fall apart weekly. most buildings here struggle to survive the tiniest gust of wind. but, frankly, this is ellie's favorite place in the world. everyone here is so social. kids can be seen running up and down the streets, women luring men into the brothels, men drunk and spending all their money. the atmosphere is so personable despite its slight uneasiness. nobody in ruby ridge has good intentions, but that's what makes the town so lovable.

DEADWOOD

significance. where ellie grew up. until she was fifteen.

residents. people who live in deadwood have a very short life expectancy, to put it bluntly. the townspeople are rude and irritable, but they have good reason ⎯ they're in the act of starving to death. kids here have to steal in order for their families to have enough food to make it through winter. parents pray and hope they don't have kids for fear of needing to provide for another human under their roof.

desc. the slums of the west. buildings are made of stone, jagged and uneven. the streets are nonexistent as nobody here has enough money to afford any form of transportation, even a horse. beggars line the town, ribs poking through their skin as they cough and hack from an incurable illness.

THICKET FOREST

significance. you'll see

residents. seeing as naught but nature exists out here, it's rare to see anybody in thicket forest. sometimes, travelers or traders can be seen on horseback but they rarely stay long, knowing that being out here for too long leads only to death. tons of wildlife is here though!

desc. outside of all the towns and away from civilization, a forest is located in the center of the desert. the trees are lush and green, watering holes thriving in their beauty. but the trip here is two days each way, meaning most sane people would be wise enough to avoid ending up out in thicket forest. after leaving town ⎯ any town ⎯ you're engulfed by desert and sand and cacti. but after a seven hour trip into the distance, shrubs and bushes begin to dot the land, soon fading into trees and a thick foliage. but by then, you're likely too late unless you turn back as soon as you enter the forest. lots and lots of sustenance is required in order to survive a trip to thicket and back. best of luck to anyone who strays out here.

#vxsellie !#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #joel miller #the wild west #cowboy au #cowgirl!ellie williams #wild west au #cowgirls are so hot #sorry #virtual map??#idk what its called #worldbuilding #series #masterlist

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decayedgloria · 1 year ago

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Madame Neuvillette Masterlist

The young and vivacious Madame Neuvillette, who shied away from Fontainian society for far too long, enters the world of scandalous affairs and open secrets as she tries to mediate her brother's failing marriage. Only, she finds herself in the midst of perhaps the biggest scandal high society has ever had the pleasure of seeing- with none other than the Duke of Meropide himself.

Pairing: Wriothesley x fem!reader, Neuvillette x fem!reader

Tags: mature and suggestive themes, anna karenina au, infidelity, toxic relationships, established relationships, age difference, tags will be added as the fic is updated

Author's note: as mentioned, it is an anna karenina inspired story. Meaning there will be time period-accurate violence and actions (smoking, some misogyny, etc.) Set in Teyvat, just without the visions and its the 1800s. Mostly follows Anna's storyline, not really Konstantin's. I can't promise frequent updates so bear with me. Everything is listed is subject to change, and things will be added as the story progresses: both tags and characters.

Cast of Characters

Reader, the protagonist of the story married to Neuvillette. Younger than him and quite charismatic, yet impulsive.

Neuvillette, the chief justice of Fontaine and a busy, yet loving family man. Is well-respected for his impartiality.

Wriothesley, the dashing Duke of Meropide who has just returned from his station in Chenyu Vale. Marchioness Clorinde's cousin and is courting Navia.

Ajax, a baron and the reader's brother whose marriage is falling apart because of his infidelity. Married to Navia's sister.

Navia, a young aristocrat who is promised to Wriothesley. Reader's sister-in-law, both are quite close to each other.

Clorinde, Marchioness de Champion. Cousins with Wriothesley, and knows him better than anyone else.

Sigewinne, reader and Neuvillette's teenage daughter. Is spoiled rotten by both parents, though mostly by her mother.

Chapters

❥Part One: Decadent Collision

Taglist: feel free to ask! @wriosmilk

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wintergreenoreo · 7 months ago

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I have decided that i will get out of my comfort zone and actually make a fleshed out Strollonso AU. This idea has been plaguing my mind for a while so i feel like sharing it. ✌️

Its a Stripper!Lance x Bouncer!Fernando AU where Fernando is a gruff security guard at a night club located on the outskirts of the city and Lance is one of the dancers in said night club.

Fernando has sworn to never get infatuated with one of the dancers but when Lance arrives it has him fighting with his own morals. Lance is only there to escape from the pressure of his personal life, has the freedom to be himself, but when he’s on stage and sees Fernando standing there watching him he feels the need to impress him with his moves.

It starts off slow but progressively gets more heated when Fernando starts to give in to temptation and finally lets Lance take him into one of the private rooms. 🤭

Some characterizations i made at 3 am last night:

Lance (24) Son of rich entrepreneur and car salesman Lawrence Stroll. In line to take over the company and is placed in a business school to learn the basics. Hardly goes to class. Skips to hang out with his best friend Esteban. Due to the stress and responsibilities his father places on him, at night he has found escape in being a stripper at the downtown night club where he can feel alive, wild and free. Only Esteban knows he does this. Stage name is Lancey Angel.

Fernando (43) Former bodyguard for Lawrence Stroll. Took care of Lance for a bit before he got fired due to an intense argument with Lawrence. Lance does not remember him cause he was still very young when he got fired. Been a bouncer ever since Lewis agree to hire him at his night club. Mainly guards the middle area and the stage. Immediately recognizes Lance as soon as gets hired, knows that Lance probably doesn’t remember him, but when he sees him dancing up on stage Fernando goes through hell in this mind. All he knows is that Lance is beautiful and should be protected. Personally volunteers to escort Lance to his car after Lance’s shift is over. Mentored the other bouncers Max and Carlos.

Esteban (29) Best friend of Lance. Works at a car garage and fixes rich peoples car. Hates the people but geeks over the cars they bring to him. Allows Lance to bug him while he works cause telling him to stop skipping class is a fruitless endeavor. Helps with the business school work Lance brings to him. Covers for Lance when he goes to the night club and tells Lawrence “he was with me the whole night” etc.

Other main dancers:

Charles: (26) Stage name is Lord Perceval. The prettiest and most requested one. Gets the most amount of money but is the most tired after every shift. The others are either jealous or feel sorry for him most the time. Lance likes to gossip with him in French. Max and Carlos fight for his attention and throw hands every time Charles asks someone to escort him to his car after a shift.

Lewis: (39) Stage name is Sir Lewis. The veteran and basically the boss of the nightclub. Started out as just a dancer but had to step up when the previous boss just abandoned the place one day. Wanted the dancers to still have jobs so he took over to help them. If a guest in the club is making the dancers feel uncomfortable they go to him and either he takes care of them or has Fernando take care of them. Had a fling with Fernando in the past but things ended badly, now they can’t stand each other, and only interact if it’s work related.

Alex: (28) Stage name is Alexander Allure. The most sweetest and kindest soul. Is always there to lift the other dancers self esteems up when they start to feel insecure. Lance has been in the presence of his encouraging words a couple of times. At the same time being the most kinkiest of them all. Has a whole different side of him he brings out in the private rooms. Stories of his raunchy escapades with guests in those rooms dont match the soft person that Lance is familiar with.

Logan (23) Stage name is America’s Sweetheart (Sweetheart for short). The youngest and newly added member of the club. Came in a month after Lance and is being trained by Alex. Very shy but overcame stage fright thanks to Alex. Doesn’t do the private rooms yet. Is the one Lance feels most comfortable talking with because Logan is going through the whole “getting away from all the pressure and responsibilities put in place by someone” thing so they bond over that.

Other bouncers:

Carlos (29) Fernando’s second in command. Usually handles the entrance and checks the people coming into the club. Inside he guards around the entrances and tables around that area. Very handsome so drunk patrons try to flirt with him all the time. Has his eyes on Charles and goes into the back to talk with him on his breaks.

Max (26) The strongest and the most hardworking of the three. When he was hired he simply just brought in supplies and inventory for the club. Fernando noticed how easily he lifted up the heavy boxes and got everything done in record time, so Fernando offered him a bouncer job cause he saw potential in him and thought he’d do good. Guards the back of the bar and around the private rooms. Also has his eyes on Charles and goes into the back to talk with him on his breaks.

Other people of note:

Lando (24) Dj of the club. Announces the dancers names in the most frat boy-ey way possible. Always succeeds in hyping the crowd up. Plays the most outrageously loud music and is so oblivious that everyone in the club thinks he’s going deaf.

Valtteri (35) Bartender of the club. Chillest dude in that entire building. Longtime friend of Lewis and you’ll always find Lewis sitting at the bar chatting away with him when he’s on break.

Zhou (24) Server of the club. Valtteri’s little buddy and helping hand around the bar. Usually very efficient in getting drinks to the guests but can occasionally get a bit clumsy. Fernando had to chime in one time and kick dude’s ass cause he wanted to fight Zhou over a little mistake. Has looked up to Fernando ever since.

#these are just the basics of it but i kinda got everything set for the story and how things will turn out #babies first AU basically #hope it sounds interesting enough 😭#strollonso #au

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clownmoontoon · 1 month ago

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WAAUAUGHHGH HELLO FRIENDS ITS UPDATE TIME!!!!!

if you have or havent kept up w my talky posts lately heres a general rundown of all the things + an update! A LOT'S BEEN GOIN ON ALDKJASD

this is the promised more detailed break down of events, so feel free to scroll down to the end to get the TLDR!! <3

i realized thru therapy n talkin to friends/my sisters that my mother is an Abusive Gaslighting Narcissist (thank u therapist i love this title sm) and a whole lotta things in my life started making sense (like why i felt worthless/like a burden! my mom was actively trying to make me feel this way lol!!)

SO i reconnected w my sisters who i hadnt spoken to in ages bc i thought they hated me (guess why lol) and started keeping them updated win all the happenings that were happening! we agreed to keep our reconnection a secret from our mom for now, as it became clear she had tried to keep the three of us apart so she could guilt us separately for money and we wouldnt ask any questions if stories told to one didnt make sense with the other (none of them made sense LOL)

tho i tried to keep it on the dl it was hard to hide the fact that i was now aware abuse was happening, even if i didnt say anything i had p much decided to stop grovelling/begging for love/begging for respect bc i realized my mom was never gonna give me any of that no matter how much money i gave her ( in retrospect it sounds obvious when i put it like that but when youve been living it your whole life its quite a shock! :,o) ) so the lack of grovelling/paying for love started to make my mom quite angry and she started to escalate her abuse bc at this point none of us were giving her any money and she was aware i had money and was refusing to give it (i told her i had to save for one of my kitten's spay surgery, which was true, and the idea that i would use my money for anything other than giving to her made her veeerry angry) suddenly there wasnt enough money for food, not enough money for gas to drive me to work ( a less than 5 min drive vs a nearly 45 minute walk with no sidewalk along a busy road aa), etc u get the idea all the while my mom kept trying to guilt me for more money while always seeming to suddenly have the money when i kindly held my ground and refused to give anything (she kept buying her blonde hair dye, kept getting her car washed, buying JUST enough food for when she was in the house etc) in the end walking all that way was good bc the 5 min car ride was a lot more stressful and i was able to stop and get food on the way during this time i had talked w friends and my sisters about moving out, I REALLY WANTED TO, but no one could house me and my four cats and honestly i dont fault any of them for that, taking on a whole other person is a lot, much less someone w four cats no matter how well behaved they are ^^;

as my mom got angrier she made it clear how much of a burden i was now that i was saving my money, telling me the sooner i move out the better, threatening to call police if i dont leave etc (all very clear bluffs in hopes that id pay up out of fear, she refuses to admit she relies on me to take care of the house and her dogs) until one day i was taking notes on a class on my laptop and she walked in front of me and slammed my laptop shut and started ranting about why should i get to use the water or electricity etc essentially telling me i wouldnt be allowed to shower, take classes or do work until i started giving her all my money

also for those who dont know i wasnt living with her bc im a huge bum that loves mooching off my mom lmao we had an agreement, and she emphatically told me that i didnt need to pay to live there so long as i was working on my career and took care of my cats -> all things i continued to do despite it all lmao shes just very good at making me feel worthless enough that i give her all my money, i have no savings bc of this and didnt even realize why asdkl;jasd

ANYWAY one night she got angry enough that i genuinely felt scared, i had mentioned before that in my teens and early 20s i thought my mom was going to kill me and hadnt felt that way in some years til that night the look in her eyes was so ... dark? like immediately i felt "oh shes going to hurt me" she didnt, she just walked past me and didnt say anything but the look was there. i called both of my sisters the next day and told them that if anything happened to me to not believe our mom if she said it was an accident or that i did smth to myself etc and that 100% she did it and did it on purpose that was enough for my oldest sister who said suddenly during the call "what if i just come get you??" my oldest sister lives in virginia and i lived in ga which is a roughly 8 hour drive so i didnt think she'd really do that, and i reminded her i have 4 cats to which she responded "FUCK MY LANDLORD" LMAO she has a big house and told me theres plenty of room and tho the landlord said no more cats (she already has two and theyre registered as therapy animals) they hardly ever visit and always call first so we can do a quick hide or take the kitties for a ride or smth when they come

SOOOO SHE DROVE DOWN ON SUNDAY, STAYED IN A HOTEL, CAME MONDAY MORNING WHILE OUR MOM WAS AT WORK, HELPED PACK UP ALL MY STUFF INCLUDING MY KITTIES AND WE MADE OUR GREAT ESCAPE!!! \QUQ/

im mostly settled in my sister's house now and things are going great!! everyday im realizing just How Bad my mom's house was and it boggles my mind!!! ive never Not lived in an abusive home and finally being out is like!!! WHAT!!! it may sound small but just being able to wash my clothes and have food whenever im hungry is such a BIG DEAL to me and its just a given here and im rolling around like WHAT IS THIS LMAO ALSO MY CATS HAVE MADE THEMSELVES AT HOME AND ARE SO HAPPY AND COMFY AND THEY PLAY EVERYDAY AND ARE REALLY ENJOYING THE STAIRS BC THEYVE NEVER EXPERIENCED STAIRS BEFORE LMAO AND EVERYONE HERE LOVES TO PET AND CUDDLE THEM!!! \QUQ/ IM SO HAPPY!!! <3<3

TLDR: MY SISTER MOVED ME INTO HER BIG HOUSE IN VA W ALL 4 OF MY CATS AND THINGS ARE GOING GREAT \QUQ/

#clown honks #WHAT A SAGA #also i havent heard from my mom since i left but i did leave a note!

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so-much-for-the-seashells · 5 months ago

Note

colt seavers x reader fic please!!

something fluffy, him being jealous, pining, being flirty.. thanks!!

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, Anon!! Hope you like this!! I’ve really missed writing for Colt! Sorry for how long this took- my writing process is either very slow or very fast, no happy medium haha. Now, I really hope you like this interpretation- if not, feel free to send another ask!<3

Also, I ended up writing Jody out, it just made a little more sense in this story.

Other than that, still searching for a beta reader! DM if interested!!

Content Warnings: None aside from a little cursing! This is as Anon asked, very fluffy! :)

Also, this switches between the reader & Colt’s standpoint!

Enjoy! Xx

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••i

Reader’s POV

I’ve been working on my movie, ‘Dreams of Maybe,’ for about a year now. It’s to be my directorial debut, and because of that the pressure has been on. Debuts are a bit of a superstitious event for new directors: they either make or break your career, even if it’s only the getgo. Sure, some can get back on their feet if they get a second chance, and others end up making a name for themselves for solely directing god-awful movies, but I don’t have time for that. For a second chance, for none of it. This movie is a culmination of everything I’ve worked for during film school and even before, and nothing is going to deter me.

Now, despite its name, “Dreams of Maybe” is an action movie. Throughout the movie, the main character, a woman called Hyleia, wrestles with the turmoil of fighting the war her home planet, Kalythea, is engaged in. As per the title, she dreams of the “maybes” that could happen after the war-maybe settling down with the love of her life, N’era; maybe finally getting a Orundaw (this world’s version of a dog); etc. But, as a warrior, Hyleia knows that those maybes could also be poverty; her world falling back into fascism as it had been when she was young; etc.

Jenny Sikes, the writer and genius behind all of this, was still developing the ending, but I have extremely high hopes. And thus far everything’s been running smoothly. I had gone into this thinking I would have to have a stick up my ass and be “tough,” but thankfully that hadn’t had to happened.

If anything, I’m really enjoying the process. To the point that even if somehow this incredible film- sure, I’m biased, but it actually is that good- flops, the friends I’ve made and experiences I’ve had would almost make up for it. Almost because, you know, I’d be out of job. Details, details.

Aside from Jenny, who is probably my closest friend on set, I’ve also bonded with Kelly Newman and Kora Kline, the women playing Hyleia and N’era respectively; as well as man who was playing the leader of the fleet warring against Kalythea, a warmonger called Jöl. The actor’s name is Reed Smith, and contrary to his character he is one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met. And very handsome, at that- refined good looks with messily bleached hair that went with his character. He’s a proper Mr. Hollywood, minus the controversy and overall bitchiness.

My producer had also managed to get Fall Guy Stunts to sign on to the movie, which was phenomenal. Well, the producer just closed the deal. It was really our stunt coordinator, a man named Dan, who recommended the company as he’d worked with a man called Colt Seavers before, and claimed he was the best in business.

I didn’t end up meeting him until it was time for the indoor explosion. The scene itself is a red herring, a false sense of victory. Hyleia thinks she’s blown up Jöl inside of the negotiations building. Their leader was supposed to be the one to fire the bomb, but unexpectedly got shot down out of the sky and in a fit of adrenaline Hyleia detonated it from the ground, barely surviving. However, because of that she ended up having a target placed on her back by Jöl. It’s a whole thing.

Anyway, Dan and I wanted to go big on at least one stunt, and the producer suggested we do an indoor explosion- sort of a bigger, crazier one than the one in The Fifth Element.

I was a little skeptical, as indoor explosions are extremely dangerous and 100% real. Hence Colt Seavers being hired. “Best in the business,” or so says his reputation. The stunt was early in in the production and a last minute decision. At the time we didn’t think we were going to exceed what Reed could handle as far as stunts go, but we were wrong. Thankfully Colt owed Dan a favor- something about a Stallone autograph gone wrong- and the former was willing to step in as Reed’s stunt double with a 25% discount.

As it turns out, I had no reason to stress. Colt Seavers really is the best in the business, the statement was in no way hyperbolic. He literally got into the Guinness Book of World Records for it the stunt, which subsequently put our movie on the map. This was an enormous deal- the film had went from “just another sci-fi fantasy action drama” to “already on the map” within days, at least in movie buff circles.

He had managed the indoor explosion with ease, due to his own expertise and due to impeccable form. He looks like a walking action hero, and the sight alone is enough to take anyone’s breath away upon meeting him.

And if the sight’s good, the personality? He’s the sweetest, most easy-going, flirtiest man I’ve ever met with a self-deprecating sense of humor and a coffee addiction to boot. He likes plants and animals, musicals and Audrey Hepburn movies. He looks like the epitome of the action genre, and yet is actually a sweet man who is in touch with his feelings and interests. Extremely endearing if you ask me.

And sure, I might have a small crush on him. But I don’t think anything would come of it- we’ve made friends and that seems to be that.

But sometimes I do think about how nice it would be to sit at a coffee table doing puzzles with him, kissing his pink lips over the table as we go along.

But again, the magic “friends” word.

Reed thinks something will come of it, as Colt and I do spend a decent amount of time together, but honestly, I don’t know if I believe him.

Anyways, I’m currently outside of my trailer, sitting at a picnic table, in dire need of fresh air and a spark of creativity. Being outdoors has always helped me get the ideas flowing; maybe it’s the crickets and the birds. Maybe I subconsciously recognize what they’re saying and turn it into my own words. Or maybe I’m fucking freezing, because it’s the middle of winter in Canada and I’m inappropriately dressed. Who’s to say.

Although really, I should probably get my parka… the soft snow is beautiful, glimmering under the sun, but my sweater and leggings aren’t exactly cutting it.

The thing is, though all credit as far as screenplay goes to Jenny Sikes, I’ve actually been very involved in creating the story. Which means I’m also involved in helping find this elusive ending.

This stupid, needs-to-be-perfect, impossible, unattainable ending.

We’ve been spitballing ideas for the past few days now, but none of them feel right.

There’s the unexpected ending: Kalythea ends up getting destroyed by Jöl’s fleet alongside Hyleia and her lover. Sure, it would be depressing, but it’s certainly plausible given the pretext of the “negative maybes.”

Or maybe we use the too-good-to-be-true ending: Hyleia wins, gets the girl; Kalythea rebuilds itself for the better this time, doesn’t fall back into its well established patterns of fascism. That’s the most popular ending in the writers room as of now, but Jenny and I are still holding out for something better.

We owe the film something perfect. Something right. Something fitting.

We’re just running out of time to find it.

And I might be running out of time to live with how inhospitable it is out here. (Let it be known that I don’t much care for being cold.)

Just as I begin to recognize how cold I am, a comfortingly familiar voice breaks the silence. It’s low and soft, with a slight rasp to it that makes you hang on every word. And I love it.

“Y/n L/n, as I live and breathe,” Colt Seavers says by way of greeting, handing me a coffee. It’s in a (y/f/c) mug, which is honestly very endearing of him. I take it graciously in both hands, the warmth of the steam much appreciated.

“Colt Seavers, as I choke and die of hypothermia,” I say from behind the coffee, my teeth chattering.

“Aw, don’t do that,” he chuckles, his baby-blue eyes sparkling like the snow around us. He sits next to me, and I immediately feel warmer, his presence alone making me feel better.

“Why not?” I ask, turning to look at him, our legs touching.

“Cause then who would I have to talk to?”

“I dunno, Dan?” I suggest.

“Meh,” he shrugs, downing half of his own coffee. This man is an addict.

“You don’t mean that,” I gasp sarcastically.

“You’re right, I don’t,” he concedes. “Please don’t tell him,” he asks, dramatics in his voice.

“For now,” I wink, and we both share a soft laugh.

“You’re shivering- do you want my jacket?” he asks considerately, already pulling his puffy yellow jacket.

“Oh, that’s okay-,” I protest, not wanting to deprive him of warmth, but he cuts me off.

“Here, I knew you’d say that,” he smiles, handing it to me. I have to smile back at that, shaking my head at how well he knows me.

“Thanks,” I say, putting it on. It’s super warm, and it smells like him. I like it. I rest my head against his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“Nah, it’s one of my stunt-guy superpowers,” he puts his arm around me, hand grazing up and down my arm to keep me warm. I gaze up at him, mesmerized by his eyes before realizing...

“Your lips are already blue,” I observe aloud.

“It’s my lip gloss,” he jokes through chattering teeth.

“Uh huh,” I agree with skepticism.

“H-how do you still manage to look g-g-gorgeous e-even while you’re drowning in my j-jacket,” he attempts to flirt, his clattering teeth most definitely ruining the effect he was going for. And yet still he makes the butterflies in my stomach come alive, just like he always does. I like when he flirts with me, I really do. But I also think that’s just how he talks with people, y’know?

But maybe…

Colt’s POV

I am so, so glad that Dan called in that favor all those months ago.

Look, having your own stunt production is great. Fantastic, even. You get to pick your own hours, do your own jobs, etc.

But being the owner means that you just sit around for the most part, assigning your crew to the good stuff while you just wait for the next call. And honestly, it’s so, so boring.

For a normal person, that might be the dream. Finally getting to relax. But my career has been anything but normal, especially after the whole Tom Ryder incident a few years ago. The dipshit was going to frame me for murder with the help of a producer I was once close to. As far as I know they’re both going to be behind bars for a while, but I had worked for and with them for about fifteen years. Finding out that they were such bad people made those years seem worthless, as if they weren’t real.

So, before Dan called me to work on ‘Dreams of Maybe,’ I was bored. Bored and itching for the next thing. I had fallen back into my habit of picking up as many random hobbies as possible- at the time I think I was most fixated on crocheting, especially those little stuffed animals. But, being ADHD means that I can’t stick with one thing for too long- it’s why my place back home is littered with fishbowls and puzzles, paint-by-numbers and table top sports among other things. And when Dan called, I was maybe days away from finding the next thing.

At the great thanks of my house he called, and for the first time I was back in the game. He had told me that I’d be doing stunts for Reed Smith, an up and coming a-lister who’s been in a lot of action movies as of late. I really liked him in “House of Ruins,” but the stunts were a little dull for my taste. But hey, that’s what I’m here for. For some inane reason I missed getting set on fire and thrown at walls.

The indoor explosion scene ended up turning out absolutely fantastically, and because of how good it was I decided to stick around, help the film get more prestige in the action-stunt world.

Not to mention that the literal world record wasn’t too shabby in of itself.

But it’s not even just the stunts.

I’m back in the saddle, but not only am I back in it but I’m back in it with my best friend Dan. I’ve missed hanging out with him, and how much I can trust him as coordinator.

Also, y/n. She’s the director of the movie, and wow. You know in the movies, when the guy sees the girl and his entire perspective changes? That’s how I feel about y/n. She’s incredible, she’s witty, and you know what? It’s cheesy, but she’s better than the movies could ever hope to be.

We’d hit it off after the indoor explosion, and it was like we’d known each other forever. We had a habit of going to the beach (back when it was warm) or getting coffee off set pretty much everyday, and it’s been pretty awesome.

I like to bother her, because it’s hilariously adorable when she gets flustered. It’s stupid stuff- I drive a little too recklessly sometimes (like stunt driving. I wouldn’t actually put her in danger) or I’ll sneak up on her and get a little jump out of her. Sue me, it’s fun.

Not to mention the tiny detail that I am irrevocably in love with her. I don’t really know when it happened- maybe it was from day one- but she just makes me feel so alive. I’ve been trying to get the balls to tell her, but as of now I’ve come to the conclusion that I won’t say anything if she does.

I think there’s a chance she could be into me, but honestly, I don’t know. If she is, it would be fantastic. If she’s not, that’s okay too, she’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. (Don’t tell Dan)

It’s just one of those things. We just… we have these moments, where it seems like maybe we’re a little more than friends.

You know, those long looks that dip their pinky toes into longing, laughing at jokes that aren’t even funny…

Or even just the way she lays her head on my chest, like today. She’s so comfortable there, my jacket far too big on her as she looks up at me with those gorgeous (y/e/c) eyes. She’s adorable, and I’m just fine with dying of hypothermia if it means I get to look at her as I go.

Okay, I’m not going to die.

I think.

You get the point.

“You know, you’re a lot smoother when you’re not freezing to death,” she tells me. There’s a slight note of concern behind the sarcasm, something you’d only be able to catch if you’ve hung out with her long enough.

“Wh-who n-needs to be sm-smooth when th-they’re t-telling th-the truth?” I ask, the cold stopping me from getting any word longer than one syllable out properly. Real attractive, Seavers.

Hypothermic climate aside, this is how a lot of our time together is spent. Drinking coffee in random places, me trying to flirt and her retorting with her endless supply of sarcasm. I wouldn’t trade anything for it.

“Mhm, let’s get you inside, champ,” she says, standing up. Already I miss the warmth of her resting against my chest, the closeness.

Good grief, dipshit. Get it together.

But once she extends a hand for me to take I’m back in cloud-nine, happy to be touching her.

See what I mean? I think I’m losing it. Or I’m just whipped like Dan says.

She leads me back to her trailer, barely ten feet from where we had been sitting. I can’t help but sigh of relief at feeling the warm air in the trailer. She laughs and gestures for me to sit on the little forest green sofa. I comply, setting my drink on the coffee table in front of the couch. She disappear into a little nook of the place before re-emerging with a big fluffy grey blanket that she must’ve pulled from her bed.

“Here,” she tosses the fluff over me, making my heart leap. I can’t help it, it’s just the y/n-effect.

“Thanks,” I say, shivering.

She walks over to her small kitchen space, and a few minutes later comes back with two mugs. She hands me one, then sits by me. Well more like on me, because there’s a whole sofa and her were touching everywhere. She’s adorable. And I love seeing her in my jacket… man, I’m going to have to tell her at some point.

I must’ve instinctively put my arm around her shoulders, because she hums contentedly and looks up at me. “Y’wanna watch The Fifth Element? I need something to get me in an ideas mood.”

Ohh, she must’ve been out there trying to figure out the ending. That’s what she does: she thinks outdoors. She finds it easier to think.

Of course, I’ll gladly watch The Fifth Element with her. Just as I’ve gladly watched it with her 7 other times.

“Of course,” I tell her, surprised that she can’t feel the way my heart is beating out of my chest from the smile she gives me. I genuinely get a little sad when she gets up to get the remote, but when she lays back against me any trace of negativity immediately dissipates. She’s got me wrapped around her fingers.

We watch a good chunk of the movie in comfortable silence, sipping our cocoa and staying under the blankets. She never takes off my jacket, and frankly I hope she keeps it; it looks better on her anyway.

“Wait, shit, what time is it?” she asks, suddenly sitting up and almost conking my chi with the back of her head.

“Uhh,” I check my watch. “Seven, why?”

“Damnit, I was supposed to meet the crew at the bar… half an hour ago.”

“Shit, I completely forgot about that.” Dan had invited me, it was supposed to be a hangout for the main actors and the rest of the “inner circle”- ie yours truly, Dan, y/n, etc. “We can take my truck?” I offer.

“But I’m so warm?” She protests, even though she’s the one that remembered we needed to go, which again, is adorable. Just like everything about her. Just like the way she’s wrapping herself tighter in my jacket which is at least three sizes too big on her.

“Keep the jacket, and maybe we can come back here?” I suggest, attempting to entice her.

She pretends to mull it over for a second, her hand tapping on her chin. “Can we finish the movie later?”

“Yeah,” I grin.

“Okay,” she mirrors the expression, and once again I’m feeling those damned school girl butterflies. When she takes my hand in hers to help me up it’s all I can do not to pull her back and kiss her senseless. But now isn’t the time.

Come to think of it…

When is?

Reader’s POV

We’re in Colt’s truck, as usual sitting unnecessarily close to one another under the guise of how cold it is.

I love wearing his jacket, being surrounded by his comforting coffee scent and his residual warmth in the fuzz. And he’s let me keep it- even if he only meant for tonight he’s not getting it back.

I love him. So much. And I want to tell him, but I also don’t want to put my foot in my mouth, y’know. And I can’t risk our friendship, it’s just too comfortable. Too comfortable to lose.

We get to the bar, and just like always he hops out of the car and quickly runs to the passenger side to open the door for me, extending a hand to help me down. I love his insistence on being chivalrous, yet another one of his endearing qualities.

We walk into Johnny’s, the bar that the crew regularly meets at, in comfortable silence. And again, we’re standing just a little too close, and again, I don’t mind- the proximity just keeps those butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

Reed waves at me from a booth in the back corner, sitting at the end of a bench capping Dan, Kora, and Kelly who are sitting in that order.

“Glad you made it!” Reed stands to greet us, giving me a hug. Dan also stands to let Kora and Kelly out, the both of which are presumably heading home. They both say bye to me before heading out arm and arm- the press doesn’t know it yet but they, just like their fictional counterparts, are very much in love. We get seated, and somehow Colt and I are separated- he’s sitting on the inside by Dan while I’m directly across from him sitting next to Reed. The latter gets a round of shots going for the table, and before we know it we’re all laughing about practically nothing, damn near shitfaced. Except, even in my buzzed stupor I notice that Colt’s gone uncharacteristically stony… weird.

I leen into Reed’s side, laughing about a story he’s telling about how he got stuck in the harness on one of the few stunts he did. Almost ripped his underwear off too.

Now before you get any ideas, I’m don’t sit super close with just anyone. With Colt it’s because I like him, like, like him; with Reed it’s because we’re just close. Not because we’re dating or have something weird going on, it’s because we’re friends. Also, he doesn’t swing my way to begin with. Another nugget the press has yet to pick up on, for better or worse. Except this little nugget is something that hardly anyone knows- I’m probably one of five-ish.

But I don’t like how sad Colt looks right now… did I do something? I really hope not. But he’s smiling again at something Dan interjects with, so maybe I just imagined it. I don’t know. I throw back another shot, hoping the additional buzz destroys whatever downer-mood is trying to creep in right now.

But the thing is, as the night goes on he still looks sad. He only gives me one word answers and hardly acknowledges me otherwise, and it hurts a little. So I just keep throwing them back until I’m a train wreck- and not just any train wreck, an upset train wreck. I really hope I didn’t manage to fuck something up here. I’d say he thinks there’s something between me and Reed, but why would he even care if there was? I don’t think he likes me like that. I wish he did, but I just don’t know.

I think I’m ready to go home.

Colt’s POV

I wasn’t expecting her to be into Reed, but so be it, I guess… it still hurts though. I’m already planning on buying some new puzzles to cope. I’m trying not to feel hurt, but I can’t help it. Jealousy is douchey but it’s still there… ugh.

But she’s just asked me to take her home, so of course I will. She’s drunk off her ass, and I’ve never seen her like this.

I can’t help but wish it was me when I watch her peck Reed on the cheek as goodbye. I need to get it together right now. She deserves someone good for her, and I need to be happy for her. Like a good friend.

And yet, my heart still hurts.

“Colt?” she snaps me out of reality. “I don’t feel so good,” her hand is on her stomach. Shit, she’s going to throw up.

“Alright, come on,” I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her throw the mass of people and saying goodbyes for her, thankfully getting her outside just before she throws up.

“This is like 10 things I hate about you,” she comments wistfully after she’s gotten it out of her system.

“At least you don’t have a concussion,” I quip, reminiscing the movie. That one’s one of my favorites, I can quote the entire thing by heart.

“Yeah,” she looks up at me, holding my hands. I can’t help but notice that she never took off my jacket and how cute she still looks in it, even if she’s just retched up her stomach. Our gazes lock for just a moment too long, and I cough to break the silence.

“Let’s get you home,” I nod my head in the general direction of where my truck is parked.

“Okay,” she agrees, only letting go of one of my hands. I can’t help but smile at that- I didn’t take her for a clingy drunk.

We cross the moon lit parking lot over to my truck, and I all but toss her in- gently, of course- before hopping in myself and starting the engine.

“Thanks, Colt,” she whispers before I put the truck in reverse.

“Yeah, of course, y/n,” I reply, driving off.

Twenty minutes later we’re back in the trailer, and I’ve helped her onto her bed. It took her about ten minutes to get some pajamas on, but finally she’s under that grey comforter.

“Alright, I should probably go,” I say awkwardly, feeling a little shifty.

“Wait,” she says, waiting for me to turn around. “Are you mad at me?” Her voice is tinny and sad, and it about cracks my heart into a million pieces.

“No, y/n, I could never be mad at you,” I tell her honestly, walking back over towards her and kneeling at the side of the bed so my head is level with hers.

“But you looked sad at the bar,” she mumbles.

Dipshit. My face must’ve given me away- I can’t help that it comes with subtitles.

“I wasn’t sad,” I gaslight her. I was just… happy for you and Reed.”

At that she starts laughing, a sound so infectious that I can’t help but smile. “What?” I ask.

“Me and Reed?!” she slurs. “He doesn’t even swing my way… shit I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

Wait. You’re telling me that Reed’s gay? How stupid am I??

“Wait…”

“Colt, I like you,” she says, her voice the los tour together it’s been in a few hours. “Like, like you.”

Wait.

She…

She likes…

She likes me?!

It’s all I can do right now not to pump my fist and and loudly say ‘yes!’ as if I’ve won a sports championship. Any trace of sadness is completely dissipated, because y/n l/n likes-like likes- me.

“Colt?”

Oh, right, I haven’t said anything.

“Look, y/n, we can talk about this more tomorrow,” because I’m not going to influence her while she’s still drunk, “but I need you to know this: I really, really like you. And I have for a long time,” I confess, and if the smile she gave me was my last sight I’d die a beyond happy man.

“Okay,” she whispers, looking me in the eyes.

“Okay,” I tell her. “I’m going to let you get some rest, but we’re going to talk about this more tomorrow, okay?” It’s not that I want to go, but I know it’s better to given her state of mind right now. Plus, the sooner I pass out the sooner I wake up and the sooner we can talk about this.

“Okay,” she agrees.

“Goodnight, y/n,” I stand up, but before I can walk away she grabs my hand. I turn to look at her, a little confused.

“Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you maybe stay with me?” and again, her voice is too sweet to say no to. Like, I would do the indoor-explosion for free if she asked me like this.

I mull it over. I’m not a douche, I wouldn’t do anything while she’s drunk. Maybe I could just sleep on the couch?

“I can go sleep on the couch?” I suggest, parroting my thoughts.

“Noo, here, please,” she pats the bed beside her.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea right now, y/n.”

“Please?” she asks me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, fine,” I grumble, as if displeased with the notion of being able to lay next to the love of my life. But she doesn’t even seem to notice my tone as she turn around to face me laying on the bed.

“I like you,” she whispers, before promptly passing out.

I shake my head amusedly. “I like you.”

So, so much.

Reader’s POV

I wake up, expecting to have the gnarliest hangover of all time. Except, by some miracle, all that’s there is a slight headache. Thank everything.

I’m a little groggy at first, but I register a weight draped over my side. Huh?

But then I open my eyes and see Colt, with his messy hair and his peaceful face, sleeping. He’s holding me close, as if I’m some sort of teddy bear. And that’s when I remember our conversation: I told him, and he likes me back!

I smile to myself.

“Hey there, smiley,” his voice comes out groggy, heavily taunted with sleep. I love the way it sounds.

“Hey yourself,” I say, still grinning.

“What are you so happy about?” he teases.

“You. And I’d kiss you right now but I think I have bad morning breath.”

“Well,” he mumbles, getting close. “Morning breath be damned, I want to kiss you too.”

“Well, in the case…” I lean in and press a soft peck to his lips. And it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. And now I know it for sure: I’m in love.

Wait.

Love.

The movie.

“The ending!” I shout, reaching over to my phone to text Jenny.

“Wha-,” he asks, obviously confused.

“The ending of the movie. They kiss before the planet blows up.”

“Wait… the planet’s not going to blow up because we just kissed… right?” he jokes.

“I dunno,” I shrug, sending the text and throwing my phone on the chair. “Sorry. I was thinking about the planet blowing up when I thought you were upset with me yesterday, and then this-,” I kiss him again, and he smiles. “Finished the thought train.”

“Huh,” he says, pulling me close. “I like you, so much,” he says, his voice sweet.

“I like you too, so much,” I agree, kissing him again. And one things for sure: I will never get tired of kissing Colt Seavers.

I can’t wait to be able to do everything we’ve always done, just as a couple. Puzzles and paint by numbers where we kiss each other over the coffee table. Maybe he steals one of my books and tries to recreate the scenes. Maybe he kisses me after doing donuts in the truck.

But no matter what maybes come true, the thing to remember is that love is the best part of it.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the line that flashes at the end of the movie, post credits.

Who knows?

All I know is that I love Colt Seavers. And he loves me.

The End <3

#colt seavers #colt seavers fanfiction #colt seavers x reader #colt seavers x you #ryan gosling x reader #the fall guy 2024 #save me colt seavers #fic request

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