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catladyoftheyr · 7 months ago

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Too Sweet (Ch 3)

Harvey x Reader

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 4

Summary: picking up off last chapters cliffhanger and diving straight into Harvey’s 4 heart event. You resolve the conflict after the incident with George, Harvey gives you a checkup, and you two share a jar of pickles in his apartment. 💘🥒

Authors note: I know nothing about the Air Force I’m so sorry. It’s just for the plot and vibes. He needed a backstory!!

Word count: 1.7k! A longer chapter as a treat

“Harvey! Oh my god why are you here? Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that” the surprise visit from the doctor had you stumbling over your words. “You scared me. And I don’t actually think your mustache is stupid. I just… I was really embarrassed about what happened earlier.”

“I actually stopped by to thank you for backing me up earlier. George can be stubborn, so I’m glad you got him to listen to you.” The doctor averted eye contact and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh uhhh, sure. How much of what I said did you hear by the way?” You hoped silently that he hadn’t heard you call him cute, especially since you’d been talking to a chicken.Harvey slid down and sat next to you on the floor of the coop.

“Just the part where you insulted my mustache,” he replied, stroking his own facial hair. “The farm is coming along nicely. You must be very dedicated to make such a turn around in such a short time.”

Oh thank Yoba you thought to yourself. “Thank you. I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time; I want to honor Grandpa’s memory because he loved this farm and the community. I used to spend a couple weeks here in the summer when I was growing up. I haven’t been back to the valley since I was a teenager. I didn’t think Lewis would recognize me when I came back.” You laughed quietly, an image of you as a gawky adolescent with braces coming back to you

“About earlier, we can put that behind us if you’d like. I didn’t mean to be short with you either. I was startled so I apologize for being curt.” Harvey looked at you with a kind expression before rising from the floor. “I’d like for us to be on good terms going forward.” He extended his hand and helped you up.

———————————————————————————

The bell on the door chimed as you walked in and Harvey’s head poked up from his paperwork. “Hey! Just the person I wanted to see today actually.”

“Oh?”

“I was about to write you a letter recommending that you schedule your annual checkup. If you don’t mind, I’ve got time today actually for a cursory exam.” Truthfully you weren’t very fond of hospitals, or doctor’s appointments. But you were also a terrible liar and had no time to think of an excuse. Better just to get it over with, you supposed.

“I can make it work.” You set the jar of pickles aside temporarily and followed Harvey to an exam room. You sat down on the paper, uncomfortable with the sudden formal shift in your dynamic. You’d gone from friend to patient in a matter of minutes. Harvey placed his stethoscope just under the collar of your shirt and you flinched at the touch of the cold metal.

“Sorry it’s chilly,” Harvey said. “Your heart rate is a little high. Do hospitals make you nervous?” He asked with a slight furrow in his brow.

“A little bit” you admitted. It certainly didn’t help that this was the most physical contact the two of you had shared since you met. He placed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes met. You felt your palms start sweating.

“Take a deep breath for me please” you did as instructed and tried to focus on anything else but the feeling of his hand on you. “Your lungs sound strong.” Harvey was in his element as he checked off the boxes of a routine checkup. He tested your reflexes, examined your ears and eyes, writing down his observations on his clipboard. “So far you seem to be in good health. I just have a few more questions about your lifestyle”

“Ask away, Doc.” Harvey seemed slightly flustered at the nickname but made a quick recovery. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood up straighter, clearing his throat

“As I was saying. Working on the farm involves a fair amount of physical labor I assume, so I’m sure you get enough exercise. What do you usually eat in a day?”

“Oh I usually just eat the foragables I find around the valley. There’s a lot of leeks and wild onions out now. I saw a weird looking berry the other day and I ate a couple of those. Sometimes I eat eggs from the chickens, or buy something from Gus for dinner.” Harvey was visibly stressed as he absorbed the information you gave him.

“I would highly advise that you eat a more balanced diet. Foraging is fine as a snack but it won’t provide enough energy for your activity levels. Eggs are good, but I’d implore you to try and eat from all the food groups”

“So this probably isn’t a great time to say I also eat the algae I find in the mines?” You’d never seen the poor doctor so stressed; you imagined most of his patients weren’t quite as odd as you.

“Let’s move on. How much sleep do you get at night?”

“6ish, sometimes less, sometimes more”

“Well, 8 hours a night is recommended but 6 isn’t terrible I suppose. But I’d encourage you to try and find a healthier routine. Farming is labor intensive and if you don’t give your body the care it needs you won’t be able to keep up sooner or later.” He had a look of genuine worry in his eyes and it pulled at your heartstrings. You’d only known each other for several months, but you sensed the beginning of a deep connection.

“I’ll try to be better,” you replied softly. You weren’t used to being chastised, but you understood he meant well.

“Thank you. You’re free to go and have an official clean bill of health from me”

“Well I stopped by to ask a favor actually”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering if you’d do me the honors of being the very first taste tester of my first batch of farm fresh pickles” you grinned and gestured toward the door “I left them on the counter.” Harvey smiled back and held the door open for you.

“I’d be honored. I’m actually about to close up for the day, would you like to come upstairs?”

The two of you headed upstairs to the small apartment above the clinic. Furniture was sparse and well loved, and there was a small kitchenette off the main room. The back wall held a large bookshelf that boasted an assortment of books and some small trinkets. Another shelf was lined carefully with model planes. There was a radio station in the corner by the window. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Harvey said sheepishly.

“It’s great” you replied, eyes scanning the room with eagerness. You were itching to learn more about him. You took a seat on his small sofa, your heart nearly skipping a beat when he sat next to you, his knee inches away from yours. “You can have the first one” you offered, extending the open pickle jar toward Harvey.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Harvey reached in and plucked out a particularly large pickle before biting into it. His eyes lit up as he tasted it. “This is delicious! You’ve really never made pickles before?” You shook your head. “Well you certainly have a knack for it.” You grabbed a pickle for yourself and were pleasantly surprised at how good they were. You were glad he wasn’t lying to spare your feelings.

“What’s with the planes?” You saw Harvey get a far off look on his face while he thought about his response

“I’ve always been fascinated by aviation. I did a stint in the Air Force years ago. I wanted to become a pilot but it didn’t pan out. It ended up paying for my med school tuition though. The model planes are something I like to do in my free time. I find them relaxing, and they remind me of my time in service.”

“I would have never guessed that. Pilots and doctors are pretty different. What led you down this path?”

“I think I’ve always had an affinity for helping people. I joined the Air Force to serve my country; this feels like a way to serve the community in a different way.”

“That’s actually really selfless.” You toyed with images of Harvey in uniform as you reached for another pickle, not realizing that Harvey had the same idea. Your hands met in the rim of the jar and you flinched back instinctively. The small touch left you wanting more. You adjusted your legs slightly, tentatively letting one fall against his. Harvey made no effort to break contact.

“Tell me more about yourself. You said you explore the mines. Are there really monsters in there?”

“There are! I haven’t made it down very far but there’s all kinds of creatures down there.” You animatedly described the things you’d encountered on your adventures: colorful slimes, stealthy rock crabs, large buzzing insects, agile bats and more. Harvey looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.

His voice grew soft as he spoke “please be careful in the mines. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Suddenly it was as if a switch had gone off in his mind and he got up from the couch. “Wait here one second!” He bolted across the studio and down the stairs. You heard rummaging from below before Harvey emerged again holding an armful of various medicines and first aid supplies. “Take these.” He thrusted the bundle of supplies into your arms.

“Harvey I can’t just take these from you. These are expensive” you insisted, trying to hand them back to him. A roll of gauze unraveled on the floor. Harvey plucked it from the ground and placed it on a table.

“Nonsense. Consider it part of your checkup.” He looked you in the eyes with a pleading expression. “Please take them. And promise me you’ll keep them with you in the mines”

“I promise.”

#my writing #harvey fluff #harvey x farmer #sdv fanfic #stardew fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic #harvey stardew valley #stardew valley fanfiction #harvey x reader

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makeucrawl · 18 days ago

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Coyle gets drunk and spills his guts to Easterman about how much he likes him…

Coyle also mentions he wants to get married to him. 🥴

Some silly fluff pls!!

**SILLY FLUFF**

🍻🥃♥️💍

The prime asset was spread out on the coziest couch he’s ever been on, heavily intoxicated on the most expensive alcohol he'd ever had, feeling the most relaxed he has in years. He takes his hat off his drunken red face as he came to a sudden realization.

Coyle turns to tug on Dr.Easterman’s tie. "HhheeeEeeYYyy…Hey d-doc…H-Hey..doooc!” He slurred out, yanking harder on the red dyed cloth, eventually drawing the doctor's attention.

“HhHMmm…? What..What is it, Leelaand?" It was funny to hear the usually stern man’s and voice slurred. Coyle grins lazily looking up at the doctor through the drinking glass Easterman used as he poured another drink.

“Hmm..I..I like when..it’s jus’ the twooo..two of us..” The cop says, and the other man nods in response. “I rrrrreally like..driiinkin’ wit ya..” He continues, grunting slightly as he starts to sit up. “An’..oof..an I really reeeeally..love whens we..fffuuuck~” When Coyle hears a chuckle in response, the corner of his lip curls into a smirk. “I wannas sssspend..spend all my times wit ya..” He murmurs before planting a few sloppy drunk kisses on any exposed skin on the other man's neck. Hendrick only hums in response, tipping his head back to sip his drink while also enjoying the sensation of Leland's scruffy facial hair tickling his skin.

Coyle snakes his finger’s around Easterman’s, pulling them up to start kissing along the knuckles. “Mmmm…I wanna marry ya.”

Hendrick chokes on his bourbon, coughing unable to say anything but "What?!"

“Said I wa-wanna mmmmarry ya…Mmmaaake ya my wwwife..Could git us ssome rings off of..couple rrrreagents~” The police officer chuckles keeping his fingers locked with the doctor's. “C’mmmmon! Whatcha..say doooc..? Hmmmm? Ya w-wanna git hhhiiiitched~?” He looked at Easterman again and saw the man looking at him with just pure confusion. Just as it seemed like the other man was going to respond, Coyle shouts

“HA!! Just ffuckin’ jokin! Hahahaha! Bet ya tthhought- HA! Yyyou fuckin fag!! UGH! Marryin’ YOU!? HAHAHAAaaaaa-I need more drink.”

He felt his face turning red quickly letting go of the doctor’s hand, and laughing nervously before taking a bottle, hurriedly chugging it down. The sooner he could bury these thoughts and this memory the better.

#hope you enjoy 🫶#fluffy fluff #shocktherapy ship #the outlast trials #dr easterman #leland coyle #dr easterman x coyle

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marsmarauders · 3 months ago

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As I work on my Marauders Era screenplay, I often visualize my face claims (let me know if you’d like to see them!) and spend a lot of time imagining their outfits and hairstyles. Since I have some (very little) experience in costume design for theatre, I thought it would be fun to share my ideas.

(I’m aware they spend most of their time in uniform, but I’m envisioning outfits for trips to Hogsmeade, vacations, and their other downtime).

I’m aiming to stay true to the era, but obviously, not everyone wore peak 70s trends every single day. I want to include some everyday casual wear like sweatpants, sweatshirts, t-shirts, jeans, and other things, so I’m also trying to include those as well!

Oh and shout-out to @idkjustlemmedrownlikerab and @taleofapart-timepoet for the feedback and assistance!

Some unnecessary disclaimers!

1: I’m pretty sure I fact-checked that everything mentioned was around in the seventies. If something is wrong, feel free to let me know!

2: These are my headcanons, and if you disagree with them, that is fine! I would love to hear your thoughts, but please be kind about it!

3: All characters are beautiful, no matter how they are depicted.

With that out of the way- let’s get started, shall we?

JAMES POTTER

Regarding casual wear, I think James opted for t-shirts, specifically graphic, bootcut jeans (or denim shorts, yes, you heard me), and a denim jacket. That denim jacket was his muggle item. Whenever Remus or Lily brought him to muggle cities, he always wore his denim jacket. If it was hotter, he'd wear a button-up shirt open over his t-shirt. He wore red Converse (with socks), red Crocs (with socks), and on a rare occasion, leather platform shoes. He’d also wear his Quidditch jersey everywhere. (He is number 18. What's 18 backwards? Oh-) His color palette mainly consisted of reds, blues, whites, and yellows.

His dark hair was always a mess. It was wavey and swoopy, and it’s what had half the girls (and Regulus) falling for him. He had bronze round glasses, and he was quite literally blind without them (he was nearsighted). He also loved bracelets. Marlene and Pandora made them together all the time, and he’d always ask for another one to add to his collection. He had his ears pierced at some point after Marlene and Sirius got a hold of a muggle piercer, but he let them close up not long after. When he got older, he grew a mustache and he was proud of it. I don’t think he had facial hair anywhere else on his face, as both he and Lily preferred how he looked without it.

SIRIUS BLACK

We know Sirius rocked the leather jacket whenever he could. Lily got him the jacket for Christmas, which is why it meant so much to him. It was authentically muggle. He also loved band t-shirts and had a huge collection of them. His favorite was a Queen shirt Lily got for him when she saw them live. (Lily loves buying clothes for people, okay?) He usually wore pretty classy muggle clothing under his jacket, like solid black slacks and a white button-up. (It wasn’t until after he got disowned that he started truly experimenting with his fashion. He started wearing more t-shirts, jeans, and just overall looser-fitting clothing). His first pair of Doc Martens from Fleamont and Euphemia in 76. He nearly cried. (And by nearly, I mean he did). His color palette mainly consisted of blacks, greys, whites, and reds.

He had long, curly black hair that his mom would force him to cut every time he went home. He never got to grow it out until he started living with James properly. It was usually down to his collarbone. He loved having his hair styled. He pierced his ears with Marlene and pierced his septum for his 21st birthday. (It closed up when he was in Azkaban). He paints his nails sometimes. He loved necklaces, bracelets, and rings. He preferred silver over gold. I don’t think he got too much into makeup, but he’d let Dorcas or Pandora do his eyeshadow occasionally. He had stubble (and a lighter mustache!), but never let it get too long. Oh, and he obviously had a ton of tattoos.

REMUS LUPIN

I’ve already written a whole essay about Remus and his relationship with all of his sweaters, so you can read that here if you’d like! As for hotter days, he’d usually wear a t-shirt (usually a band tee), with a lighter long-sleeved shirt underneath or a cardigan. On a very rare occasion, he’d wear the t-shirt without the long-sleeved top underneath, but only if it was boiling outside. He was very insecure about his scars. For bottoms, he wore corduroy pants or jeans and for shoes, it was either derby shoes or old-school vans. Sirius always described him as looking cozy. His color palette mainly consisted of browns, tans, whites, greens, and reds.

His hair was wavy. People always debate whether his hair was brunette or blonde, and I think it was more on the brunette side. It wasn’t very long, never reaching the bottom of his neck. He’d wear a necklace occasionally, but he wasn’t a big jewelry person. He was clean-shaven for most of his life, as he never really liked how he looked with facial hair.

PETER PETTIGREW

Peter sticks to sweaters, sweater vests, and t-shirts. (He gets cold very easily, which is why he tends to wear longer sleeves or heavier clothing). He has a lot of houndstooth in his closet. He usually wears jeans or jean shorts (depending on the weather). He loves wacky, goofy, socks. His favorite pair of socks have frogs on them. He wears loafers or sneakers, but he also has a pair of rat slippers that James got him as a gag gift. I think he probably rocked a flat cap every once in a while. Oh, and Peter loved overalls! He had at least five different pairs of them. His color palette mainly consisted of tans, blues, greens, and browns.

You know the Beatles members’ haircuts? Yeah, that’s the haircut Peter had when he was younger. He was a dirty blonde, 110%. I don't think Peter wore much jewelry, except for maybe a tag necklace now and then. When he started growing facial hair, he shaved it all the time, as he did not like how he looked with it at first. But, as he got older, he started growing it out a little bit and had light stubble.

LILY EVANS

Lily loved bell bottoms and flared jeans, but she would also wear skirts occasionally. She mainly wore button-up shirts, with sweaters or cardigans, or just a regular T-shirt. She also really liked those tie tops, you know the ones I’m talking about. She loved patterns and prints on her clothes, like floral, stripes, etc. I think Lily had a more conservative/modest style, and by that I mean she didn’t show her stomach or above her knees. If she did wear a shorter skirt or a dress, she’d wear tights underneath it. She loved Mary Jane shoes, but she also had a pair of Converse in basically every color. And obviously, she wore the hat. Her color palette mainly consisted of browns, oranges, greens, reds, and blues.

From the first year to around the fifth year, she had shoulder-length hair, and then after Severus and her fell out, she had one of those cliche quarter-life crisis moments where she decided she needed to grow her hair out and cut bangs. She liked to wear her hair in braids or a bun, but her favorite look was leaving it down and wearing a headband. She had a ton of flower earrings, some were made by Pandora, and she loved rings. She didn’t wear much makeup, other than mascara and like chapstick.

MARY MACDONALD

Mary loved anything flowy, poofy, and pretty. She loved tie-cardigans, cute tops with poofy sleeves, long flowy skirts and dresses, and anything knitted! (By Marlene of course). She wore Mary Janes almost exclusively (with frilly socks!) but would wear her Converse if she needed to walk a lot. She’s basically what any four-year-old girl who wanted to be a princess would dream of. If it was chilly out, she’d wear jeans and a fuzzy jacket. She loved flowers, bows, strawberries, Hello Kitty, anything that’s adorable! (I fact-checked! Hello Kitty was invented in 74!) Her color palette mainly consisted of pinks, whites, blues, greens, and some black accents here and there.

She loved to style her hair. Since it was afro-textured and long, it took a little longer for her to intricately style it, so she usually changed it every few weeks. She loved putting bows and clips in her hair! She painted her nails every week. She loved pearl necklaces and earrings. She was decently light on her makeup (mascara, blush, and lip gloss) but would go full out for events like Halloween or Quidditch matches. She had a multi-step skincare routine and had a special pink strawberry headband she used to keep her hair up. (I’m not sure if the housebound headband was a thing in the 70s, I couldn’t find any information on it, but if it wasn’t, then she made it herself!)

MARLENE MCKINNON

A lot of people will call Sirius punk, but I think that title belonged to Marlene. She wore graphic tees and tanks, ripped jeans and distressed shorts, and usually rocked Converse or Doc Martens. (She had one of Dorcas’s green Converse and vice versa). She loved fishnets. She had a ton of belts. She had a few leather jackets that she painted on the back of. (She has one with a lion on the back!) She also knitted a lot and would have fun mixing the knitted pieces with her more alternative style. Her color palette mainly consisted of blacks, whites, reds, and blues.

She had a mullet, (It might’ve been more of a wolf-cut). Her hair was super frizzy, probably from the fact that she bleached it all the time. (Yes, Marlene was a natural brunette!) In fifth year, she let her roots grow, in 6th year she had money pieces that she changed the color of all the time, and in 7th year, she dyed the bottom black. (During the war, she let it grow out properly and stopped bleaching her hair). She did her nails weekly with Mary. She pierced her ears, nose, and lip with Sirius and James. (She quickly realized that she did not enjoy the feeling of a lip ring. #sensoryissues).

DORCAS MEADOWES

Dorcas usually wore a turtle neck or a sweater, but she’d wear a halter top if it were hot. I like to think she usually stuck to skirts, and if it got cold, she’d wear tights with them. Dorcas rarely wore pants. (If it were freezing outside, she’d wear jeans). She loved combat boots and Converse. She wore vests over her turtlenecks. She had maybe fifty different pairs of sunglasses. Her color palette mainly consisted of greens, browns, blacks, and the occasional purple.

Dorcas had locs, 100%. Her favorite hairstyle was to put some of her hair in space buns, and then leave some of it down. She loved earrings. She had peace symbol earrings, cat earrings, and big circle earrings (no not hoops, I’m talking about those obnoxiously huge circle earrings). She had two ear piercings! She loved makeup. She’d wear really pretty eyeshadow, long-winged eyeliner, dark lipstick, and she always looked super cool. She had about 100 different rings that she would alternate between (her jewelry box was very organized and if you dared to mess with it, you would pay for it).

REGULUS BLACK

I don’t think his dressy style manifested solely because of the way he was raised, but I think Regulus just felt better when he looked nicer. He wore button-up shirts, dress pants, sweater vests (long or short-sleeved), and black oxford shoes. His more “casual” wear was the same thing but with sneakers. The most laid-back he was with his fashion was the occasional sweatshirt when it got cold, and if he felt really out there, he’d wear his quidditch jersey. (Sometimes, he’d even wear his uniform without the tie). His color palette mainly consisted of whites, greys, blacks, and sometimes green.

He had short, wavy hair. He never grew it out, partially because of his parents, and partially because he hated how it felt on his neck. He always kept it well-combed. He never wore makeup in public (Pandora would sometimes do it for him), pierced his ears, anything that could be deemed “feminine” by his family. (I do not think makeup or piercings are solely feminine things). He had a few rings (his first was from Sirius), and that was the only jewelry he ever wore. (In fact, the first necklace he ever wore was the fake Horcrux locket).

BARTY CROUCH JR

Barty lived the double life let me tell you. He could be the most classy, formal guy at a meeting but simultaneously be the most party-rocking individual at school ever. I like to call it the raccoon aesthetic. Cute and trashy. He wore button-ups but also tanks and hoodies. He wore holey pants but also holy pants. (Hah). He usually wore boots, no matter the outfit, but he had a pair of magenta Converse on standby if he ever needed them. His color palette mainly consisted of blacks, blues, reds, some whites, and some magentas. (Can you guess his favorite color?

His hair was wild and frizzy. He was a brunette, teetering on the edge of brown and black. He had piercings that he did himself with a needle and an ice cube. Pandora taught him how to do eyeliner, and he’d wear it whenever he was feeling particularly fancy. He was always clean-shaven and despised facial hair. He wore chains, bracelets, and rings, and none of them ever went together. He was, to put it simply, a hot mess.

EVAN ROSIER

Evan is a bit of a wildcard because I see him portrayed in so many different ways that I adore, so it took me a while to figure out how exactly I perceive him. I think I can narrow it down to one word for you guys. Comfort. He prioritizes comfort over anything. Hoodies, t-shirts, denim, sweats, vans, he just loves being comfortable. He always has a spare sweatshirt that he’ll throw on over his button-ups. (He and Pandora are always cold, so I like to joke that they run cold-blooded). He also loved beanies. He doesn’t care about being put together. His color palette mainly consists of blues, greys, whites, greens, and some tans.

His hair was ashy blonde, much like his sister’s. It was frizzy, wavy, thick, and extremely hard to maintain, and he just didn’t have the time for that. He 100% needed glasses (he was farsighted), but he hated wearing them, so he didn’t unless he was alone in his dorm and doing homework. (Being blind as a bat can kill you. Literally.). He painted his nails black and wore like two rings and one necklace max. He did have facial hair, but it was barely visible because he was blonde. He and Pandora had matching bracelets, and they wore them every single day until Evan ripped his apart when he and Pandora fell out after Regulus’s death.

PANDORA ROSIER

Pandore quite literally wore whatever the heck she wanted to. Overalls, flowy skirts, distressed shorts, patterned trousers, anything. For shirts, she’d wear anything from poofy sleeves to graphic tees. She always had a jacket or cardigan on hand, because she was always cold. She loved to wear socks, tights, leg warmers, anything to keep her cozy. She usually wore Mary Janes or sneakers, but when Uggs were invented in 78, those were her go-to's. Her color palette mainly consisted of every color that our retinas have ever seen.

Every single day, she had a different hairstyle. And she loved to accessorize with headbands, clips, hats, bandanas, flowers, she probably wore twigs in her hair at one point, just anything this girl could make work, she wore. She made all of her jewelry by hand, and most of her other accessories were altered by her in one way or another. She didn’t paint her nails, in fact, they were an utter mess. She loved makeup and would wear pretty pastel eyeshadow and thick eyeliner. I’m almost certain people would’ve mistaken her as a fairy.

That’s it! If you would like to see more character studies like this (about their music taste, room decor (I would love love love to do one on their room decor), etc), leave me some suggestions! Or, if you want a part two for some other characters like Severus, Alice, Frank, Emmeline, Sybill, etc, feel free to tell me! I would love to hear your thoughts!

#the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fandom #marauders #marauders era #mwpp #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #pandora rosier

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rubykgrant · 2 years ago

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I've been slowly re-doing/adjusting my RVB face designs, and also working on more characters! It will eventually be a LOT, but for now; here are the main Reds, Blues, Freelancers, Doc, plus a bonus of Locus, Flowers, and my OC Poppy (just for the fun of it~). I love designing characters, and playing around with features so everybody has different noses, mouths, chins/jaw-lines, etc. For everybody, I have two versions. The first being their signature armor color, and then their actual people colors. I also wanted to include things like facial hair, glasses, scars, freckles and what-not (like Donut's hearing aide and Carolina's eye shadow, because she can't NOT be edgey haha).

(below is some design descriptions and notes on my thought process for everybody. it is a LOT, don't feel obligated to read it~)

Grif and Simmons both clash and compliment each other not only in personality, but in physical features as well (Simmons is sharp, and Grif is soft). I wanted to show that Simmons actually isn't as scrawny and gawky as he used to be, but he hasn't totally registered that he's finally "grown into himself", or that some muscles have happened (once he does, this unlocks "Confident Simmons", and nobody is safe. for now, he's just too used to feeling awkward). Simmons has a fairly strong jawline, an aquiline nose, and hair the color of red clay. He's had his hair very short and properly styled for many years, but after Chorus it started to grow out, and when he pulled it back to see how much he needed to trim, he realized he liked being a ponytail guy! (also, it isn't visually shown here, but trans Simmons is real~) Grif is a big guy, fat and pretty darn strong with thick limbs, and rough around the edges. He's also handsome and beautiful (not "in spite" of those features, but BECAUSE of them). His features are like a combination of rebellious and charming, with his default expression being chill. He has warm copper brown skin, and hair that reaches his shoulders, dark brown, very thick and wavy (it also magically never gets tangled). You can see where Simmons' cyborg prosthetics match the same area where Grif got his skin grafts, but over the years Grif has sort of "absorbed" the organic material, and the skin is a shade darker than when the surgery was fresh (Simmons himself isn't too terribly pale, but still lighter than Grif). Grif occasionally shaves or lets his beard grow in more full, but usually likes to keep just a little bit of face-fuzz around his chin

Sarge is very boxy and built like a brick. I enjoy the irony of a character who has a very BIG personality being somewhat short in stature, and Sarge is certainly a little bundle of dynamite. Despite his claims of only being 29, he somewhere in his 50s (possibly getting into 60s), but still going strong. I wanted to show the age lines around his mouth and his eyes, so he doesn't just look weirdly "smooth" (this man is basically leather, and proud of it. he also has larger earlobes, and bushy eyebrows). His hair has gone white and gray, kept in a perpetual buzz-cut, and he has some scruffy facial hair. He's broken both his nose and his jaw several times in his life, resulting in some unique shapes. Most of his scars happened years ago when he was younger, but the scar on the side of his head is from getting shot during Blood Gulch. He's rather pale thanks to wearing the armor every day for a few decades. His "solution" was to try and sun burnt on purpose so he'll be RED again, but Donut, Simmons, and Doc stopped him before it got too bad. He typically looks very grumpy and stern, but we all know Sarge is EXPRESSIVE with his emotions

My thought process with Donut was to combine Barbie with GI Joe; very pretty, but also pretty darn strong! He has sort of a "soft diamond" shape to his face and jawline. He looks very sweet, but has the potential to be INTIMIDATING. In the past, his hair was light blonde, but turned a strawberry-brown as he got older. During Blood Gulch, when he got EXPLODED, Donut got some scars on the right side of his face, and the hair in that area never entirely grew back. After finally accepting that he is PINK, Donut has also embraced other aspects of himself, both loving who he already is and enjoying what he wants to be. He doesn't hid his scars, but he styles his hair with a side under-cut and dyes the longer lengths a lighter blonde. He also wears a hearing-aid for his right ear, and his eyebrow on that side is a bit thin too. Donut's mouth naturally makes the "cute kitty shape", and he usually has some shiny chapstick/lip-balm on as well. He likes to get some sun on his skin, but is careful not to tan too much, and always uses lots of lotion

Doc is very "in the middle", not too tall or too short, he's not skinny but not chubby either... however, he's got sort of a sturdy build, very athletic without being too buff. A rounded jawline that ends in a small point with his chin. He has a very high bridge to his nose, making a refined line from his forehead down in profile, with sharper edges at the sides of the nostrils. His skin is a deep brown, and his hair is very dark, kept short, with the curls swept up out of his face. Doc isn't "vain" exactly, but he likes to feel comfortable with himself, and to a certain degree, this involves being satisfied with his appearance. O'Malley also enjoys feeling sort of "cozy" with the hair and what-not, so it is a shared reassurance. Doc wears glasses, and O'Malley absolutely knows how to do the "intense anime glasses thing" when he wants to look DRAMATIC. Something I wanted to show with both of them; Doc has very welcoming and kind vibes, but he is perfectly capable of being a sarcastic little smart-mouth, with a fierce sense of resolve. O'Malley likes to be very over-the-top and appear threatening, but there's potential for him to protective, and even joyful. Again, he looks very in the middle, applying to Doc and O'Malley's attitudes

Kai resembles her brother in many ways, but I wanted to make sure she's still unique to herself. Things they have in common; warm copper skin, thick and wavy hair, and they're both chubby. There is a subtle heart-shape to her face (above around her forehead and hair, and also lower with her jaw). Kai has had fun with lots of different hairstyles through the years, but she's decided to just let it grow out. She's dyed it some crazy colors in the past, without really knowing what she was using, but now Donut helps her coordinate, so she has a gradient going on (darker golden-brown at the roots, lighter shades of brown in the middle, and finally yellow at the ends). To keep it from getting tangles, she usually has her hair tied back, or wrapped up while she sleeps. Kai is somebody who is very aware of what she's physically capable of, in terms of both strength and flexibility. Sometimes she shows off with some interesting party tricks, but also just has a graceful way of moving when she wants to dance (or kick somebody's butt). Everything about Kai is LOUD and PROUD, but that doesn't mean she can't calm down and share quiet moments with the people she cares about. She also has two double sets of earrings; two studs up on her right ear, and two small hoops lower on her left ear

The first rule when drawing Tucker; he is the prettiest. He has fairly long and noticeable eyelashes. His nose has a defined smooth and broad curve to it, giving him a profile that is a bit regal, even heroic. He's one of those people who always looks younger than he actually is (not exactly a "baby face", but naturally youthful, until one day he's just gonna suddenly become a silver fox). He has dark brown skin, and thick black hair (4c), kept a little long at the top, but styled as a fade. He has pierced ears, usually just two studs (but can be more elaborate if he wants to dress up). Tucker is an interesting character; visually, he can very easily be a pretty boy, or a prince charming... but then he starts talking, and you realize how obnoxious and annoying he is. Underneath the flirty attitude and sarcastic jokes, he has genuine concern for others, and a fear that he won't be strong enough to protect people. Underneath THAT, he's a determined and clever person that is capable of doing amazing things. All that is wrapped-up within Tucker. I wanted to see a hint of the charm and smug attitude in his face, but the noble look is in there too. Physically, he's a short-king (manlet), but after training with Wash, Tucker has impressive muscles that combine with some quick reflexes

I imagine Caboose as one of the BIGGER characters. He also has the strongest "huggable vibes" (he's literally friend-shaped, no matter how much Church used to argue this fact). Caboose has a naturally sweet smile, which makes it all the more serious when he's upset (a sad Caboose will break your heart... a mad Caboose might break your arms). As Sarge once said- "He's like an ox!". His skin is a shade of sandy brown. His hair is a deeper brown, very soft and a little bit fluffy (I'm especially happy with how his bangs turned out~). I really wanted to make it clear that while Caboose might be all kinds of adorable, he is indeed a grown man, able to take care of himself, and others as well (he understands things some of them never notice). The curve of his jaw is low and subtle, but also shows how "solid" he is built. Caboose is a hopeful person, and has the will power to MAKE things turn out OK one way or another. No matter how unusual his ideas might be, Caboose is dependable, and intuitively has the strength to be kind on purpose

Wash has kept the beard despite the teasing, which has finally transformed him from looking like a very tired lost teenager into a dad who works at a library (the beardo-fication of Wash~). His hair is mostly a light blonde, more golden brown at the roots and through his facial hair (during Project Freelancer, he had a shock of gray after the Epsilon incident, but it has faded). His skin is a light tan color, covered with MANY freckles, and a few scars on his face (the most recent neck injury isn't visible. the scar above his eye is actually from a skateboarding accident as a kid, but the one across his nose was sometime after Project Freelancer started to fall apart). Although he fusses over other people a lot, Wash is bad at taking his own advice, and tends to not eat or sleep enough. It also didn't help that he had a bad habit of ignoring his own emotional breaking points until he was in the middle of losing control... he's finally learned to recognize certain things, and accept every part of himself (a little punk kid, a dork, Mr Serious, a guy who had a Villain Moment, and somebody who really found where he belongs). Under the beard, he has an angular chin, his nose has a curved swoop shape to it, and he has a defined lower lip

Carolina is one of the few characters we see without armor in the series, so I knew what I was working with, but I also wanted to show how she has changed. Carolina is a naturally intense person with somewhat slender features, and she's worked hard to be VERY strong. Now that she's spent time with this group of goobers, and had some chill lessons from Grif, Carolina is rediscovering how to enjoy herself and be less harsh (remember, she is the BEST. this means she's gonna be the Best Red, the Best Blue, the Best at Being Annoying~). She cut her hair during Iris, a little bit choppy at the time, but later decided to keep it short and give it a cleaner trim. She's dyed it a darker, less vibrant shade of red (I imagine her natural red is a bit more carrot). She still uses heavy eye shadow though! (at this point, it is out of spite toward anybody who everybody who ever said it looked silly; not so silly when she's kicking your but, is it?). She's a bit pale, but with a warm tone to her skin. Most of Carolina's scars came from incidents when she didn't have armor, or was so determined to finish a mission, she didn't care if she got hurt. It isn't visible here, but she doesn't bother with shaving her legs (not to get all deep about it, but Carolina sort of has her own balance with embracing certain aspects of femininity, and also ignoring expectations of "beauty". she knows what she's about, and does what she wants)

These designs for Tex and Church exist within my story-line where they get to return in synthetic human bodies (originally intended for the Director to use for himself and Allison, once he could properly "resurrect" her... which didn't work). DNA samples were used as the basic building blocks, the genetic information was allowed to "randomize" itself. As a result, Tex isn't an identical clone of Allison (just like parents can have more than one child; related, but physically different). Ironically, Tex takes after Allison's maternal grandmother, and so does Carolina. Tex has light skin and blonde hair, which she keeps tied back in a ponytail, with two lengths that frame the sides of her face. Carolina and Tex have the same nose shape, a long bridge that curves up at the end. She considered cutting her hair different, or dying it another color... but she didn't want to constantly worry about "changing" herself to avoid any similarities with Allison. Instead, Tex wants to find out what it means to be HERSELF; which is BIG and BUFF. She's pretty tall with a thick body-type already, so she just had to work on the muscles (also, even with long hair, she still has a "warrior dude" vibe, and she's very proud of it). Tex naturally has a lot of confidence and a rebellious attitude, but she really isn't "mean"... at least, not all the time

Church definitely has some traits that came from the Director... but Church was always a contrary little so-and-so, and even though he had no control over how his body formed, it seemed he was destined to be the "opposite" of what somebody else intended. Church is much shorter than the Director, with a thicker more "chunky" body-type (he puts on some healthy weight later, getting a bit more chubby. he also works on being strong enough to pick Tex up. that was his whole motivation). He has a broader nose, and more squared jaw. He has light skin, but a bit more of a sandy color. The most obvious resemblance is his black hair, which sticks up like a soft hedgehog. He asked Carolina and Tex if he should avoid having facial hair (since they have to look at him, and he doesn't want them to be reminded of any unpleasant memories). They assure him that it's fine, and the hair on his chin kind of suits him (it fact, even through the similarities, they can look at him and just see CHURCH, as he is). Church can be a smug, loud-mouth jerk... but though all his rants full of curse words and insults, he cares very deeply about people. Even though he had some ego-trips, he mostly just thought of himself as "some guy". Now he knows how important he is, not because he's a special and highly advanced AI, but because a lot of people missed him. Now he can actually be with them all again, and just like Epsilon, he has the chance to find out what he's truly capable of (they can still project holographic avatars of themselves, but all of the AI Fragments are back too, and happily spend time in Church's head~). Although they make different expression, Church and Carolina have the same "neutral" shape to their mouths

Poppy was originally sent to a different group of Red and Blue Flag Zealots, meant to identify needed supplies and order more ammunition. She was designated "neutral", and had white armor with tan accents. When the teams ran out of bullets, they kept fighting in non-lethal ways, which Poppy thought was preferable to a clearly pointless war, so she just never put in the order for more. Both teams considered her a friend, playfully fighting over who's side she was on, but never getting mad at her for getting along with them all. After a dangerous incident left her knocked-out and recovering, Temple's group arrived to recruit more Sim Troopers. Poppy's group refused to join. When she woke up, they were all gone. She misses them dearly. Because she's still considered part of the Flag Zealots, the UNSC decided to throw her back into a new training program (which was actually pretty shady and insidious), and that's where she meets Sarge. Poppy has a calm yet sarcastic personality, with a raging inferno of a temper once somebody ticks her off. Perfect for Red Team! Poppy is medium-short, about the same as Doc. She has broad shoulders and strong arms, very sure-footed and versatile when it comes to fighting. A very go-with-the-flow attitude, somebody who can be comforting and encouraging, but isn't shy about showing her emotions. She has a somewhat rounded fact with a short, sturdy chin. Her skin is a light shade of brown, and her long hair is a dark earthy brown. Not pictures is her own prosthetic arm (she's meant to be a "mirror" for Simmons, clever like him, but not a know-it-all. she was the one in the accident, and woke up with cyborg parts. Sarge decides to just adopt her, and this SHOULD immediately make him hater her, but Simmons finds himself feeling pretty fond and protective of Poppy. accidental sibling! also, they're both trans in opposite directions~)

We've seen Locus without armor in a flash-back before Chorus, so I tried to translate that into my style I use here. I imagine that he actually wasn't doing to great Chorus, not eating or sleeping enough, what with the whole crisis involved; thinking of himself as a murder-machine unable to see the worth of kindness or mercy, and THEN recovering enough humanity to be horrified by his actions thus considering himself a monster without a purpose... y'know, that whole song and dance. Anyway, the Reds and Blues force him to be a person again, so he gained some weight back. While he has a very strong jaw, it's kind of low where the angle is (so he doesn't have a "long" chin, but a wide one). He also has pretty defined cheek bones, and other features as well (he wasn't smiling much for a LONG time, but he does indeed have lines on his face that deepen when it happens). He's BIG, burly, and buff... but hopefully looks less harsh than before

I like to imagine that Flowers keeps faking his own death, and has a set of plans outside of what Project Freelancer was trying to do... nothing ever worked out properly. Flowers mainly doesn’t like the idea of people being “thrown away” or treated like they’re worthless, and at his worst, that meant using people for some goal they didn’t choose for themselves. He wouldn’t like to admit it, but… “daddy doesn’t always know best”, and he’s trying to include people on the decisions of these goals now (while the Director and Councilor might have just thrown together Red and Blue teams to mimic the other group who had a nearly endless stalemate going, Flowers picked out the Reds and Blues for Blood Gulch because he LIKED them, and he genuinely thought Alpha would too… in a very twisted way, Flowers founded this family). Nobody entirely trusts him at first, what with all the lying. Plus he keeps talking like a overly cheerful serial killer. He’s an older and distinguished gentleman. Some gray streaks in his hair, which he keeps wrapped up in several small braids that make a flower-shaped bun. Some scars on his body from many missions and fights (including the ax to the shoulder). He has a warm, brown skin, and back tattoo that is just barely visible; orange blossoms. He has a tall and lanky body-type, but even past middle-age he still has thick muscles

#red vs blue #rvb

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maxybabyy · 3 months ago

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I love how you write your girl!Max lestappen fics (and lestappen in general)! Do you have any plans for them? x

hi friend 🧡

this is so nice to hear and I’m so glad you like it! girl!max does live rent free in my head, so there will probably be more at some point.

I do have a lestappen girl!max fic outlined in the docs that I wanna write but a lot of the plot points focus on the 2021 season and are a bit outdated now 😔 but here is a small snippet for you

The drink is still sweating in her hand when someone comes up behind her.

She shivers at the touch to her side, the body heat bleeding through her thin dress where he’s pressed almost to her back. The bar isn’t full, but still she scoots to the side to make room and watches the arm follow her, strong and tanned where it rests on the bar.

There’s a faint tan line from a watch, soft brown hairs that probably would be soft to the touch.

Maybe if she hadn’t spent the day surrounded by men who didn’t think she would fit in the car because of her hips, her tits, Max would have pressed into the touch and found out how it felt wrapped around her body.

But her patience is almost gone, and so is her drink.

The ice cubes clink in her glass as she puts it down. The bartender must know she’s ready to bolt because he approaches with a look of apprehension, nervous hands wringing a washcloth between idle fingers. She ignores the back and forth in French and bends down for her jacket when suddenly –

“Can I have another beer please? What she is having also, merci.”

Max looks from her jacket on the floor to the bartender, and maybe it hadn’t been apprehension on his face after all. Maybe Max just sucks at facial expressions.

Her eyes follow tan skin down to his fingers, to the rings she should have recognised, the hangnail he had complained about after biting off. Even his scent reminds her of the track now, and she doesn’t know how she hadn’t known.

“I will of course have a vodka red bull, thank you.”

Charles whines and suddenly the touch of his arm is gone. “No, this I will not pay for.”

Max leans an elbow on the bar with a smile. She licks her lips and doesn’t know how to feel when Charles’ eyes turn just a shade darker, hazy probably with drink. “Then I will have a triple shot of vodka and a can of red bull also.”

“No, Max. You are being so stupid,” Charles tells her. He stands closer to the bar to point at the drinks menu, his front pressed almost entirely against her back. He’s warmer like this, and Max finds she doesn’t mind it, how his sweat-damp shirt sticks to her skin where the back of her dress dips low.

She feels the weight of his gaze on her face even as he says, “She will of course have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Always if you are trying to flirt, you should not do this, Charles. It is I think very rude,” Max tells him and ignores how her cheeks feels warm to touch, flushed with heat.

“I did not know – “ he says, and Max has always liked how indignant he sounds like this. He leans against the bar so only his knee rests against the outside of her thigh. “Also Max, do not lie to me, you do not drink vodka red bulls. This is ridiculous.”

Max sips her drink and shrugs, “If you are paying –“

Charles nudges the empty tumbler by her hands, “You think I would not buy this for you? Is it like this, whiskey?”

She should tell him probably that she likes the gin and tonic better, but she likes how the pout looks on his face, how the pressure of his knee has become more insistent.

“How about you win a race and then of course you can buy it for me,” she tells him instead.

The drink is still sweating in her hand when someone comes up behind her.

There’s a faint tan line from a watch, soft brown hairs that probably would be soft to the touch.

But her patience is almost gone, and so is her drink.

“Can I have another beer please? What she is having also, merci.”

Max looks from her jacket on the floor to the bartender, and maybe it hadn’t been apprehension on his face after all. Maybe Max just sucks at facial expressions.

“I will of course have a vodka red bull, thank you.”

Charles whines and suddenly the touch of his arm is gone. “No, this I will not pay for.”

She feels the weight of his gaze on her face even as he says, “She will of course have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Always if you are trying to flirt, you should not do this, Charles. It is I think very rude,” Max tells him and ignores how her cheeks feels warm to touch, flushed with heat.

Max sips her drink and shrugs, “If you are paying –“

Charles nudges the empty tumbler by her hands, “You think I would not buy this for you? Is it like this, whiskey?”

She should tell him probably that she likes the gin and tonic better, but she likes how the pout looks on his face, how the pressure of his knee has become more insistent.

“How about you win a race and then of course you can buy it for me,” she tells him instead.

The drink is still sweating in her hand when someone comes up behind her.

There’s a faint tan line from a watch, soft brown hairs that probably would be soft to the touch.

But her patience is almost gone, and so is her drink.

“Can I have another beer please? What she is having also, merci.”

Max looks from her jacket on the floor to the bartender, and maybe it hadn’t been apprehension on his face after all. Maybe Max just sucks at facial expressions.

“I will of course have a vodka red bull, thank you.”

Charles whines and suddenly the touch of his arm is gone. “No, this I will not pay for.”

She feels the weight of his gaze on her face even as he says, “She will of course have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Always if you are trying to flirt, you should not do this, Charles. It is I think very rude,” Max tells him and ignores how her cheeks feels warm to touch, flushed with heat.

Max sips her drink and shrugs, “If you are paying –“

Charles nudges the empty tumbler by her hands, “You think I would not buy this for you? Is it like this, whiskey?”

She should tell him probably that she likes the gin and tonic better, but she likes how the pout looks on his face, how the pressure of his knee has become more insistent.

“How about you win a race and then of course you can buy it for me,” she tells him instead.

#to all the other messages in my inbox I have NOT forgotten about you and I am working on something for everyone pls know that #lestappen #my writing #girl max #answered asks

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elyrch · 4 months ago

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JJ (oc) x reader headcanons...

a/n: i hope you guys like JJ!! he's very near and dear to my heart :]

JJ is a tall, skinny guy. he's pretty pale, with short black hair, and he wears rectangular wire-frame glasses. in terms of personality, he's pretty quiet, although he's a huge sweetheart when you get to know him.

you'd probably meet him through online gaming. he doesn't go out much, but he's totally killer at playing online games. he enjoys elden ring the most, but he's able to chill out and play splatoon, mario kart, or even minecraft if that's what he'd rather do in the moment.

for music, he listens to more soothing music than stuff with a lot of energy. think lord huron, tv girl, mitski, vampire weekend, ghost, and hozier. if he were to need energetic music, he listens to breakcore, no specific artists- although he does like the ones that use unique instruments in their songs (think violin, erhu, trumpet even).

in terms of clothing, he wears mostly black, soft boy clothes. he doesn't usually care for brands, besides his shoes and pants. usually, his shoes are doc martens, and nikes if he needs something that's more comfortable (he does branch out in color with these, but usually its like. gray. or even a little blue. not very adventurous he is). his pants, on the other hand, are usually baggy blue jeans, or dickies. his dickies are his pride and joy, since they're comfortable and look awesome.

he doesn't seem like the type of guy to wear jewelry. gauges, maybe, but necklaces and facial piercings make him feel like he's being constricted. a ring or two at most. his jewelry is always in silver, but if not that, then some gemstone that's somewhere in the spectrum of white-blue-gray-black. sometimes he does branch out and wear glow in the dark stuff- usually on halloween.

if you were to pull up his sleeves (or have him do it) you'd see loads of brightly colored friendship bracelets. all of these were made by his little siblings and cousins, and he NEVER takes them off. they think that giving the big scary guy loads of cute little bracelets is hysterical, and he thinks its nice to carry something of them with him wherever.

if you ever did worm your way into his heart, he's so soft with you. gently waking you up from your nap if you tell him you have to do something, but he always tries to get you as much rest as possible. cuddling always ends up with him rubbing your back and pressing little kisses to your forehead.

the main thing to watch out for in the relationship is that he's insecure. there's always gonna be someone better than him- and he's incredibly worried that you'll leave him for them. he tells you its okay, that he won't be mad, but he's pretty bad at remembering that you do love him.

overall 9/10 relationship he's kind of a big baby though especially when he's sick

thank you for reading! please reblog if you enjoyed this one :]

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#oc x reader #reader x oc #fanfiction #fanfiction blog #oc x gn reader #my ocs #oc fanfiction

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ficklecat · 1 year ago

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My OCs, aka Axel’s Brainpals

I have many hyperfixations, my friends. Some of them I even create myself, as a treat, that way there is truly no escape nor end to my suffering 😌

These three are OCs of mine that are very dear to my heart, who I have crafted lovingly and who are currently running amok in my google docs. I’ve dubbed them/their story “Epiphytes” for now. They are set in modern day (2010s) and are continuously evolving to become more unique and fleshed out as I write them. I hope you enjoy learning about them and please feel free to send me any questions if you’re interested in knowing more!!

Phineas “Finn” Morgan

Age: 25

Sexuality: Bisexual

Gender: Cisgender male

Birthday: February 25 (Pisces)

Appearance: about 5’ 10”, but looks taller due to his long limbs, swimmer’s build, white hair/skin and violet-red eyes due to albinism, androgynous features especially in face and hands, doesn’t wear glasses often but has them (prefers contacts), very poor vision, loppish wavy hair that can often be unruly/windswept looking

Personality: subdued but friendly, a little socially awkward at times but often endearing, tendency for skittishness which he can overcompensate for by being overly sincere, fiercely loyal and protective, a little codependent, fretful nature but is earnest in his attempt to trust people and remain calm, anxiety/PTSD which manifests in periodic insomnia that makes him forgetful/emotional, intelligent and bookish but worldly as well with a slight propensity for coming off as just a tiny bit pretentious, creative and romantic, “soul of a poet” kind of guy

Family: Patrick Alexander Morgan, father (deceased); Heather Morgan, mother (deceased); Kenton “Kenny” Daniels, foster brother

Occupation: teaching assistant, graduate student of classic & romantic literature

Fun facts: plays piano and can sing well but doesn’t, dislikes sweets but loves marshmallows/s’mores, functionally bilingual in Spanish and English, has 4 dogs all named after dogs from famous literature, favourite comfort show is We Bare Bears, favourite food is a BLT on sourdough bread, tea over coffee, loves romcoms and thunderstorms, favourite music is 80s rock/pop but will scream-sing Lana Del Rey and Hozier

Emmanuel José Domingo Alvarez (Manny Domingo)

Age: 25

Sexuality: Gay/Demi

Gender: Cisgender male

Birthday: June 30 (Cancer)

Appearance: athletic build, bulky and toned, around 5’ 8”, brown skin and eyes (Guatemalan), curly black hair which he keeps relatively short along with short facial hair (scruff), strong jawline and nose, large mouth and “smiling” eyes, sort of “hunky/dreamy” looking

Personality: extremely sweet and loving, happy-go-lucky, very emotionally insightful and empathetic, can be over protective and over enthusiastic at times, optimistic but not unrealistic, though sometimes can fall prey to toxic positivity (doesn’t like to dwell on negative emotion which can make him bottle things up), often assumes the role of mediator or peace keeper but does it more out of love than fear of conflict, animal lover, seems like the “dumb jock” but is very thoughtful, strong sense of equality, teacher’s pet vibes but genuinely because he likes school, charismatic and respectful, “will try anything once” kind of guy

Family: Santiago “Diego” Domingo, father; Mariana Alvarez, mother; 1 younger brother he doesn’t know

Occupation: physical trainer, graduate student of physical therapy

Fun facts: excellent dancer, sweet tooth/snacky in general, bilingual in Spanish and English, can get competitive especially during sports, loves board games for this reason, favourite comfort show is whatever anime he’s currently binging, black coffee, favourite food is anything his dad makes or Pad Thai, also loves romcoms, favourite music is 80s hits and 90s alt punk (big fan of Sublime and Green Day)

Violet Roberta Hughes

Age: 21

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender: Cisgender female

Birthday: November 2 (Scorpio)

Appearance: short (5 feet), very soft features all around, midsize/curvy, green eyes and LOTS of dark black-brown hair that is wavy/loosely curly naturally, “luscious” lips and demure/angelic facial features, doe-like eyes, higher cheekbones

Personality: dynamic and magnetic, she says what she means, but has a tendency to fall in love fast and then get hurt hard after, wants people to be better than they are, passionate and outspoken, sometimes too forgiving of people especially if she loves them, perfectionist at times with things she feels are important, takes herself seriously but doesn’t let it prevent her from finding joy in small things, determined when trying new things, open-minded and affectionate, a little dorky when she’s comfortable

Family: Nadine Hughes, mother; Robert Hughes, father; Patricia “Trisha” Long, step-mother

Occupation: undergraduate student, biology

Fun facts: LOVES dogs, enjoys arts and crafts and homemade gifts, really good cook but a better baker, went through a “goth phase” in high school but still loves the aesthetic, loves horror movies, favourite comfort show is American Horror Story (season one) or Breaking Bad, loves flavoured lattes and is definitely a Starbucks girly, favourite food is sushi/poke, favourite music is 00s alternative (FOB/Panic), also likes Mitski, Mother Mother, and modern folk/indie

Relationship

Finn & Manny grew up together and had an established, borderline codependent relationship before Violet was introduced. After many years and various iterations of their friendship and love, Finn & Manny decided on an open relationship, and about 2 years later, Finn met and fell very hard in love with Violet. At first, Violet was worried about engaging in non monogamy but now self-identifies as polyamorous. The three of them are essentially a “throuple” with no primary partnership. They each have a different type of bond with the other but overall they’re SO very much in love with each other. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

I could scream more about them but I’ll chill for now 😜 Thanks for letting me blabber about these three I love them they are tiny babies I carry them in my pocket every day.

#seriously please feel free to ask me about them I will cry #oc content #OCs #axel’s brainpals #ax says stuff n things

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emmythespacecowgirl · 2 years ago

Note

hi emmy!! ♡ I hope you're doing well !! I wanted to ask for a ship, preferably for the Pacific :) um so here's some information on me!

Brief description of my looks; Curly hair that's brown with highlights of blonde and red. It's like a mixture of my parents hair colours. I am tall, 175cm. Fashion wise; Starting to get into more of some sort of punk fashion. I like fashion in general but punk fashion has been especially cool as of late, imo. Band tees!! I wait for the day a pretentious man asks me for songs by the hand; I'll list a whole album to spite the man. My friend calls me her scary dog privilege !! The same friend (I love her sm) labeled my eyes sea glass. My facial expressions are either sorrowful or a bit stand-offish. No in-between.

Personality; As you can tell I can be talkative but in that same sense, I am very quiet. I enjoy observing rather than speaking. I am a bit shy and tend to blush rather easily. Oftentimes, people find me to be therapeutic which has its ups and downs. I have the tendency to act like a leader, it just comes naturally? Especially if there are people much younger than me in a group setting. I love making jokes. I love seeing people smile and enjoy the moment, that's the most beautiful sight. I have photoshopped cowboy hats onto pictures of my friends & set those photos as their contact pictures. I don't think this is a personality trait but I'll say it; I am Jewish. Oh! So important thing to me; Music!! I listen to music all the time. Some bands I enjoy include; the pogues, the clash, second thoughts, the ramones, joy division, stone roses. The list goes on, actually here's a band name that'll make you laugh; "The nipples erectors" um, don't ask me lmao. Anyway!! I'm an equestrian, english discipline. Oh, I love geography!! I'm trying to memorize the world map. I write. Like a lot. I'm passionate about a lot... oh yeah, I suppose I need to mention I struggle with depression & have a baggage that I'd rather not say out loud... but it exists and greatly distorts how I view my body. also if this helps; I'm an infp and type 3 enneagram.

Anyway, thanks!! Mwah!!

Hi babe!! honestly i feel like you and i would be fashion twins irl!! your style sounds so cool ngl <3

I ship you with:

Bob Leckie from The Pacific!

ship theme song: She's My Religion by Pale Waves

okay Leckie lowkey needs and craves a punk bitch gf!!

the man tries so hard to be an edgelord stg

he needs a punk queen in his life!!!

i feel like he would just see you walking down the street one day

and he's just like

"god damn... this girl is my QUEEN"

is it your sea glass-colored eyes that captivated him first?

or your ripped fishnets and doc martens??

who can say???

dude probably writes romantic emo poetry about you at 2am in his bedroom

literally pining after you and he works up the nerve to finally ask you out

like Leckie, you're either very quiet or a chatterbox

no in between

he appreciates your quietness and conversation equally

Leckie thinks its so dang cute when you blush

so he tries to make you blush often

over the most stupid stuff, too!

he loves going on double dates with you and Runner and his gf

or Chuckler and his gf

and your natural leadership tendencies take over

he'll just smile at you stupidly

but inside he's just like

"oh yeah... that's my dang gf >:)"

he's so intrigued by your Jewish heritage

he loves going to Passover at your family's place each year

your parents are totally smitten with him

but his most favorite thing to do with you is to go to the record store on Saturdays

he'll let you pick out as many records as you want

and will gladly buy them for you

depend on Leckie to fuel your music addiction >:)

he loves how passionate you are about everything you do

he considers himself really lucky to know a girl like you <3

also, Leckie is deals with his own certain type of baggage

so he's no stranger to anxiety and depression

he hopes that you'll share your worries and doubts with him

and he'll be open and truthful with you as well :)

#enjoy #my work #the pacific ships #bob ships #the pacific #ships #bob leckie

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chazukekani · 4 years ago

Text

SPOILER ALERT

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today.

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

The story continues on 27th Feb

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs storm bringer #bungou stray dogs storm bringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya

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spitpr1ncess · 3 years ago

Text

Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #Nanamin #nanami fanfic #archive of our own #spitprincess #spitty #my own work #original content #nanami x femme reader #kento #kento nanami x redaer

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captainsassmanes · 4 years ago

Text

Here’s my Malex remix gift for @cosmicclownboy! I took a little bit of your meta, some of the small things you like (Alex + leather, yes please!) and created this drabble. I hope you enjoy :)

Open Up My Eager Eyes

“You’re either cruel, stupid or a bit of both.”

Michael huffed out an unamused laugh and rolled his eyes as he brought the rim of his beer glass to his lips. Kyle didn’t move, his smirk and raised eyebrow still perfectly in place.

“Not that I give a shit but,” Michael sighed and turned in his seat, “what exactly are you talking about?”

Contrary to what was probably popular opinion, Michael wasn’t stupid. He was well aware that the only time he and Kyle exchanged more than a passing nod, the topic was always the same.

Alex.

“There’s no way,” Kyle said leaning against the bar top, his bicep flexing in his perfectly fitting denim jacket, “that you haven’t noticed what Alex has been doing.”

Michael smirked and shrugged, helpless against the urge to rile Kyle up. “What’s he been doing, Doc?”

Shaking his head, Kyle threw back the rest of his beer, smacking his lips before standing and tossing a few bucks on the bar.

“Alex has been sad and lonely for way too long. You and I both know the man’s incredible and deserves the best so,” Kyle smiled as he pulled out his keys. “Tomorrow night, Isobel and I are taking him to Planet 7.”

Michael’s façade fell with no hope of keeping it in place. His cheeks paled and he swallowed past the panic rising in his throat. If the smile on Kyle’s face was any indicator, he knew his words had hit their target.

“He might not find Mr. Right at the club but Mr. Good Enough for Tonight will probably be there.” He clapped Michael on the shoulder before heading out the door, arrogant swagger followed like a cloud.

Michael was frozen, brain sifting through too many thoughts at once. Why was this always happening? Why were they always on two different paths when he was so desperate to be right next to Alex? He figured he’d had time after Alex and Forrest fizzled out, do the awkward acquaintance thing then move into friendship then -

“If I were you-”

“Jesus Christ!” Michael jumped, hand moving to his chest as he caught his breath. He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t notice when Rosa had taken the seat next to him.

She just laughed. “If I were you, cowboy, I’d show up at the club and tell him how I felt.”

“How I’m – “

“We all know you’ve been in love with each other forever. You’re just too stubborn to deal with your shit and communicate. You people keep claiming to be adults, but I just see one idiot after another.”

“Ouch,” Michael chuckled, giving Rosa a playful push. He sighed, pulling on his hat and digging out a few bucks. “I’ve messed up so many times for so many years. I guess, if I were him, I’d probably tell me to fuck off.”

“Nah,” Rosa stood, heading back to her friends. “Just be honest. Talk, for god’s sake.” She put her fingers to her lips and then shoved her kiss aggressively against Michael’s cheek with a wink.

Talk, Michael thought. Easier said than done.

***********

It took Michael longer to get ready than he’d planned. No one seemed to realize it, but it took a considerable amount of time and effort to get his curls to fall just the right way. He showered, shaved, fixed his hair and tried on every shirt he owned. Ultimately, he went with his usual style: jeans, clean white t-shirt and a relatively new purple, long-sleeved flannel.

The night air was cool, whipping his hair in front of his eyes as he drove to the club. In his many years living in Roswell, Michael never visited Planet 7. He didn’t know why. He certainly wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality, though he wasn’t walking around with a pride pin on his chest, either.

There was a first time for everything.

He parked the truck and took a few deep breaths, tapping nervously against the steering wheel. Michael watched as more than a few very attractive people walked in and out of the door. He’d been so focused on the environment, how he’d fit into the club, what he’d say to Alex, that he forgot Alex would be here, looking gorgeous he had no doubt, surrounded by other gorgeous, and horny, people.

“Just be honest. Just talk.” Michael repeated his new mantra to himself as he walked into the noise and flashing lights. He did his best to kiss the wall, wanting to survey the scene before diving right in. He’d planned an entire speech for Alex, practicing parts of it over and over again in his tiny mirror while he fought with his hair. Michael found the bar and ordered himself a beer, nodding politely at the blonde with the bright smile who handed him the bottle.

Across the room, highlighted in shades of pink and purple from the lights, Alex sat at a table by himself. He had a small smile on his face though Michael could tell, even from so far away, that it was laced with sadness. He followed Alex’s eyes and watched as Isobel and Kyle danced drunkenly with a small group, laughing and smiling, hands and drinks everywhere. Kyle waved Alex over, trying to get him to join in, but Alex just smiled wider and shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

He looked stunning. Alex’s hair had gotten long and he’d let some facial hair grow around his perfect mouth. A blue t-shirt emphasized the shape of his chest and his arms and, Michael noticed with a flush to his cheeks, a leather jacket was thrown carefully over the back of his chair.

He shouldn’t be alone, Michael’s brain supplied as he felt a wave of confidence and a pure need he had been ignoring for too long.

Moving across the dance floor, Michael did his best to move between the sweaty, dancing bodies, his eyes never leaving Alex. He stood in front of Alex, whose eyes lifted, and jaw slightly dropped. Michael offered his hand with a serious look on his face.

“Dance with me.”

Alex placed his drink on the table and slid his hand into Michael’s, strong hands holding one another. They found their own space, as far from the crowd as they could go, as a slower song played through the speakers. Michael slid his arm around Alex’s back, fingers finding bare skin beneath the soft cotton. His other arm moved slowly between Alex’s muscled shoulder blades, pulling with a desperation at the neck of the shirt. Alex hesitated for just a second, seeming to process what was happening. His hands moved up Michael’s chest, arms coming to rest once they were wrapped around Michael’s neck, one hand moving into those chestnut curls where his fingers couldn’t stop running through the strands. They rounded into one another, practically becoming one. Their faces rested in the crook of the others neck, both taking deep breaths and closing their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Michael whispered, breath tickling the shell of Alex’s ear, causing goosebumps to race down his neck. “I was terrified.”

“Of what?” Michael thought, if he could taste Alex’s voice, it’d be sweet like berries in summer.

“I can’t mess this up again, Alex. I think it’ll kill me.” He felt Alex nod in understanding, hair brushing against his cheek. Alex stood straight to meet his gaze. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. You just seemed to – “

“I know.” Michael said, eyes squeezing shut from embarrassment. “I knew what you were doing, and I wanted to talk, to start over, so badly. I just kept picturing messing it up or you walking away, and I couldn’t - “

“I’m not going anywhere this time, Michael. I’m right here.” Alex’s hand moved to Michael’s face, thumb dragging gently across his stubbled jaw.

Michael’s shoulders relaxed and his chest lost some of its tightness as a calm washed over him. Alex rested his forehead against Michael’s as his slid his thigh between the other man’s legs, both hands returning to the curls he never seemed to get enough of. “I’m not going anywhere, Michael.”

Michael sighed and pulled Alex closer, their bodies moving with the music, lost in their own world while the universe spun around them.

“I forgot what this felt like,” Michael laughed, rubbing his nose against Alex’s. Alex smiled and asked, “what?”

“Happiness.”

#malexrem #malex remix 2021 #cosmicclownboy #my fic #drabble #roswell new mexico

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blkgirlcafe · 4 years ago

Text

Town Whore

Been sitting in my Google Docs for over a year, so why not post it. Pure smut, no plot

Chris Evans x Liz x Henry Cavill

Word Count: 1.7k

Tw: Sex, Unprotected sex, roleplay, facials, dirty talk, degrading, spilled water lol.

When they say being wine drunk was a different type of drunk, she agreed. Wine made Liz feel light, floaty with a girly giggle. She moved around her home with ease, shutting windows and locking doors, ready to take the rest of her bottle to bed.

After securing everything, Liz went upstairs, finding a comfy tee to sleep in. Laid comfortably in bed, she scrolled Instagram, giggling quietly at the funny videos she found.

Liz barely registered the first bump, her ears strained to hear the 2nd bump, the 3rd bump saw her turn her phone down.

She decided to check downstairs and get some water. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so she grabbed her water.

Standing at the base of the stairs she gave the space one more look over when she saw them. The glass dropped, shattering at her feet.

“Scream and I’ll kill you.” The voice said, a knife suddenly at her throat. The cold water seeped through her toes as she shook with fear.

“It’s okay baby, I won’t let him hurt you...yet.”

The two laughed at the joke and Liz whimpered.

“Now take us to your room sweetheart.”

One of the guys lifted her, stepping over the glass before putting her down. On shaky legs she led them upstairs and to the master bedroom. She paused at the door, knowing that walking in there meant something bad.

“Don’t have all day sweetheart.” Someone pinched her ass before pushing her into the room.

“We may not have all day but we do have all night. Why don’t you take off that shirt baby, show Daddy that pretty body.”

Liz bit her bottom lip, pulling the hem of the shirt down farther.

“Please...Don't.” Liz couldn’t get it out.

“He may be a man of patience but I am not, take it off or I’ll cut it off.” The same knife that was once pressed up against her neck, trailed lazily from the neckline of the shirt down.

A silent tear fell as she yanked the shirt over her head. She stood before the two men, naked.

Arms crisscrossing to cover her mound.

“No need to be shy pretty girl, get on the bed, on your knees.”

“Fuck, going to have so much fun with her.” He palmed himself as he watched her bend over, getting a glorious view of her pretty little cunt.

Liz watched the men as they undressed, it was clear they took care of themselves. Both over 6 feet tall, one slightly taller.

The shorter one, had short brown hair, a tattoo over his heart, light chest hair that started at his belly button. His dick pointed straight out, long, already hard and leaking precum.

The taller one sported dark brown curls, one particular curl unruly unlike the rest. He had thick arms that were covered in fur like his chest. He gave his thick cock a few pumps before walking over to her. He was the harsher one of the two, holding her chin in a vice grip.

“Be a good girl for us and we won’t hurt you, understand?” His deep voice had an accent, British she thought. But she couldn’t be sure, she was drunk and stuff was a little hazy. She shook her head to acknowledge him, but received a sharp slap for it.

“I said do you understand.”

“Yes.” Liz said weakly.

“Good girl.” The shorter one walked over, smoothing his hand over the heated skin of the slap.

“Open.” The gruff one said. Liz parted her lips as his tip invaded her mouth. The salty taste of his skin overtook her. He kept pushing until he felt the back of her throat, pausing to enjoy the sounds she was making. Something between a choke and moan got lost in her throat. She looked up at him with big doe watery eyes, pleading with him to stop. He pulled out, a trail of spit between her lips and his cock.

“So good.” He cooed as if she was a dumb.

He pushed back in setting a harsh pace, his dick hitting the back of her throat, his balls slamming on to her wet skin.

Tears mixed with spit and Precum as he pulled out, “Fuck try her mouth.”

Liz didn’t like being talked about like an object, like she wasn’t here. She didn’t like these men deciding to come into her home and use her like this.

The shorter stepped up, he gently wiped the tears from her eyes, “shhhs, it’s going to be okay babygirl.”

He pushed into her mouth softly, letting her set the pace. He talked softly to her, “you feel so good baby, you know that.”

“You shouldn’t be in this big house alone, need someone to take care of you.”

“If you had a man in the house this wouldn’t happen.”

His thrust slowly built up, hand on the back of her head.

Liz choked on a scream when she felt a large hand find her clit. The other guy used two fingers to rub her clit in small circles. Her wetness spread between her lips.

“Well will you look at this Chris, this little pussy is wet.”

A thick finger was pushed past her lips, stroking her walls in slow motion. Liz's eyes fluttered closed and she got mad at herself for enjoying it.

Her hips moved on their own, pushing back, taking him knuckles deep.

“Little whore is turned on.” The one that was called Chris said.

“Let me open her up a little, get her on her back.”

You were easily flipped over, on your back between these two men.

“Please I don’t want to do this.” She pleaded.

Chris grabbed her by her throat, “We didnt fucking ask, did we Henry?”

“Sure didn’t.”

“So shut the fuck up, and take what we give you, be a good girl and we will let you cum.” He grinned pushing his long cock back between her lips.

Liz swallowed around him when she felt the other guy lick her clit. What started as little licks turned into him flattening his tongue and taking low licks from top to bottom. His tongue darting in and out of her dripping hole before licking around her clit.

Liz squirmed and moaned.

“Fuck Henry I don’t know what you are doing but keep doing it, her mouth is oh...” a strangled cry left his mouth as he cum. Flooding Liz's mouth with his salty essence. He slowly pulled between her lips.

“Swallow like a good girl.” She did, looking away in shame. Chris grabbed her chin, pulling her in for a kiss that surprised her, his tongue playing in her mouth, no doubt tasing himself.

Henry pulled away and she whimpered.

“Needy little slut, I can’t wait to use that pussy.”

She tried to wiggle away as he pressed his length against her holle, toying with her. Henry pushed the head in before pulling it out and resting it against her wetness.

“Say please babygirl and I’ll fuck you, that little pussy wants me inside, right honey?

His tone was patronizing, mocking, but Liz couldn’t deny she wanted him.

“Please.” She mumbled against the bed.

“Att aht...” Henry grabbed her hair pulling her neck up, “louder!”

“Please fuck me!” She screamed out, Henry slamming into her. Liz gasped for air as Henry fucked her into the mattress, his thick dick stretching her walls.

“Little whore, we’ve seen you around town. Wearing those little clothes, showing off your body. We knew you lived alone, no respecting man would let his woman out like that.” He grunted with each pump.

Chris watched her fall apart as he stroked his dick back to life.

He bent so he was eye to eye with her, “Look at you honey, getting fucked by two men, such a slut.”

“What would your family and friends think if we knocked you up.”

“Please no, no I’m not on birth control.”

“Beg me to cum in that mouth of yours.”

Henry strokes slowed down, “beg stupid girl.”

“Please cum in my mouth, anywhere but inside me.” Liz cried out.

“Good girl.” Henry quickly dismounted her, jerking off over her face.

Warm, thick cum sprayed her lower face, thick ropes painted her mouth and chin.

“My turn.”

Henry sagged against the headboard watching Chris slide between her legs.

Eyes red and wet, face covered in cooling cum, Liz moaned as he pushed into her sore walls. Chris pulled her legs over his shoulder, behind her legs until she was almost folded in half.

“Fuck man this pussy feels...” he moaned as he bottom out.

“Told you she would be worth it.” Henry grinned from the head of the bed.

They had talked about this, talking about fucking you, using you as their cunt.

“Come for me sweetheart.” His thumb found her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrust.

“Come on, give me that cum baby, you know you want to.”

Eyes shut in pleasure, a million fireworks went off, toes curled against the sensation, walls slamming down on him.

“Oh my god...” Liz moaned out, ashamed she had cum that hard.

“Good girl, now time for me to paint that face.” He quickly changed positions, thighs on either side of her face as he cum on it.

“Fuck, yesss.” His body jerked as the last few drops painted her lips, her tongue darted out to taste the combined taste of the two men.

They sat in silence and their breathing returned to normal.

Henry was the first to get up, he bent over her, “look at me sweetheart, you okay? You did so good.”

“Thank you.” Liz's voice had a dreamy tone to it.

“Look at our girl, need to get you washed up so you can sleep.”

Liz looked over at her two boyfriends, not wanting to move, just be cuddled up with them.

“How about this, a quick wash up and then you can lay down?”

Henry walked into the bathroom to get a warm soapy rag while Chris went to get her water.

Liz loved their monthly role play nights, and lucky there are 3 of them to keep the ideas coming.

#chris evans fic #henry cavill fic #chris evans smut #henry cavill smut #chris evans x liz x henry cavill #smut #fanfiction #smuttywriter

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Text

the story of us

this was requested by @fantasylover16. I genuinely had so much fun with this thank you! I hope you enjoy. Also I said nb jack frost rights and I meant it.

masterlist; my links

This is a story about two people.

One died three hundred years ago and has been alive since then. They have white hair, whiter than the stars, than burning light, than heaven itself. They have blue eyes that remind you of cracked ice in melting winter. They have ivory skin, some say like porcelain, it's more like liquid opal.

The other is twenty two years old. He has black hair, like jet fuel, and midnight. He has green eyes that hold oceans lost to time, that hold memories. He has brown skin that reminds you of cool forest floors and water glistened rock.

This is a story about who they are.

"Percy!" His roommate shouts from the kitchen. "Get your butt down here and tell me if the blue skirt goes better with these glasses!"

He laughs as he pulls a sweater over his heads and grabs his phone, slipping it into his back pocket. He feels the press of his pen as he pats himself down to make sure he has everything and when he is satisfied he bolts down the passage and stops short of the kitchen where Hazel Levesque is parading in front of their grand mirror on the opposing wall. She is decked out in black platform ankle boots, white fishnets that draw out the colour of her skin, slightly dark than his, a bright blue skater skirt and a soft pastel blue crew-neck not unlike his own.

"You Hazel Levesque," He grins bright and unrestrained, "Are a vision."

"Yes," She mutters still swopping between two pairs of clear-framed glasses and scrunching her nose, "But is it enough to bring my crush to their knees?"

"If Reyna doesn't bow down to you I think we can assume she's in desperate need of glasses."

"Well then maybe I should take both pairs and offer her one." She muses, pulling at her afro distractedly.

He snorts, turning to the counter and grabbing a bowl and whatever cereal he can reach first.

"Well," Hazel turns to him, he can see the smile she's trying so hard to hide, "Shall we be off then?"

He blinks at her, blinks again, points an unsure finger at his chest.

"Oh you don't expect me to brave Reyna on my own do you? Besides we're matching today it'd be quite ridiculous if we went out separately."

"But—" He looks to his bowl, as barren as the desert, "But my cereal?"

"I'll buy you breakfast on the way!" She waves the concern off, grabbing his hand and pulling them both out the door.

Despite their height difference, she makes it look far less like he's letting her pull him and far more like she has the strength to straight up carry him across the country.

"Hazel," He giggles, "Slow down."

"I can't Percy," She shakes her head vigorously, practically running through the park next to their building and into the bustling streets beyond. "If I don't do this now I'll lose all my courage and spend eternity in self-damned misery." Her brown eyes, turning honeyed as they catch the sun through the round glasses framing her face, flash bright and bold.

He stops them, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop the laughter shaking his body." You have never been a coward Hazel Levesque. No matter the day, time or outfit you have always been brave enough to stand up and do what's needed. And telling Reyna you have a crush on her is just another battle you absolutely can win." He pulls them apart, setting a steady green gaze on her excited one. "Now let's get some coffee, and a mint tea for you because you're hyper enough as it is, and then we'll go find the love of your life and I can finally show you the google-doc I have for your wedding."

She strangles his ribs in another hug and then takes a deep breath as she steps away. "What would I do without you Percy Jackson?"

"Let's never find out," He smiles, slinging an arm over her shoulder and directing them towards the Chaos House.

As per its namesake, walking into the café is like being lost in a crowd of sleep-deprived, adhd kids all connected to caffeine IVs. In short: it's chaos. Its their favourite place on earth.

Being hit with a wall of noise after the quiet of awakening nature feels like being sucker punched directly in your ear canal. Percy cannot help but grin as he takes in the racing patrons and the sound of coffee beans being ground and the smell of cinnamon and honey and endless activity.

They immediately spot a group of their friends and bolt for the booth they're all squished into.

"Reyna isn't here." Hazels voice is pitched with panic, "Oh gods what if she's sick today? What if she fell in a ditch on her jog this morning?" She stops right in the middle of the café, brown eyes wide. "What if she knew I was trying to do this and decided to stay home today to avoid seeing me?"

He grabs her arms already shaking his head. "My darling, I need you to take a deep breath. You are spiraling."

Wildness is still tracing her expression but he feels her shoulders rise and fall as she gulps air.

"Okay," He says gently, "Now we're gonna go to our table, have a good time with our friends and if and when Reyna shows up you're going to tell her how you feel and I'll meet you back at home so you can let me know when the wedding is."

She smacks his shoulder gently, nervous giggles escaping her. "Alright fine. I hate when you get reasonable. It's very disconcerting."

"Good thing it's rare," His lips twitch, and they finally start towards their friends.

A loud chorus of hellos and how are you’s ring around his head as they get nearer and he feels right at home amongst it all.

"What's up losers?" He flops down next to Jason, pressing a shoulder into the blondes side in a hug.

Annabeth sits next to the blonde, squished between him and Piper, a leg over Jason's thigh and her hand intertwined with Piper's. Frank is on the opposite side, a casual arm slung over Leo's shoulder. Hazel squeezes in besides Leo and sighs dramatically.

"What's wrong Levesque?" Piper frowns, reaching over to clasp the girl's hand.

"She's feeling put out because she had something very important to do today and her plans are being delayed because a certain someone isn't here."

And just as their friends start reassuring and ribbing her in equal parts Percy's phone rings. With a frown he pulls it from his pocket, as he gets up and waves to say he'll be back in a minute.

"Hello, this is Percy Jackson."

He's not paying attention to his surroundings as he listens to the person on the line so when his shoulder slams into somebody he almost topples to the ground. When he turns around to say sorry there is nobody there; his frown only deepens but then the voice on the phone is pulling his attention and he makes his way outside.

This is story about they meet.

The conversation is a whirl of information about his upcoming course and what his supervisor needs from him. By the time he ends the call and tucks the phone back in his pocket his whole body feels like it's taken on the sky all over again. He has the urge to check if another grey streak has graced his hair. Instead he leans against the wall, ignoring the way his clothes catch against its roughness. He can feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the brick and into the threads of his sweatshirt.

He looks down, pulling his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep the warmth in but as he takes his arms away from the wall he sees the frost outline of his fingers. A clear, already melting handprint marking the brick like a graffiti tag. He steps back, away from the wall, to find his whole body outlined. It reminds him eerily of the chalk markings they do at murder investigations. He's not entirely sure this isn't prophetic.

The frost, little beads of ice skittered in shape, is melting at a rapid rate but the colour catches Percy's eye. It's not the usual dulled, muddy ice that coats his windows in the morning and sits atop the grass each night. It is blue, bright and pure, and looks... happy?

He's definitely going insane. The lack of coffee is getting to his brain and he has officially going mad. He should go inside and get warm and sit with his friends and have 3 espresso shots in a row.

But the phone call is still rattling his nerves and he can't bare to face the café without all his wits about him. So he studies the melted frost outline, curiosity moving him forward to trace it with his fingers. He doesn't expect to feel cold like winter mornings and snowball fights and sleigh rides coursing through his bloodstream. It's shocks him right into a new state of being. It reminds him of a poem his mother used to say at the beginning of each winter. The poem was long enough that he was always asleep by the end of the last verse but he recalls the first part clearly now

Jack Frost was in the garden;

I saw him there at dawn;

He was dancing round the bushes

And prancing on the lawn.

He had a cloak of silver,

A hat all shimm'ring white,

A wand of glittering star-dust,

And shoes of sunbeam light.

The thought is so ridiculous Percy has to laugh. It bursts out of him unexpectedly but once he starts he cannot stop. It feels like the world has turned on its side but he's still walking upright. Everything is slightly dizzying but strangely amusing from this angle. He laughs harder, ribs aching, cheeks stiff, and eyes bright. He's sure people are staring at him like he's mad but he cannot stop. Until he stumbles over the pavement and is falling to the inevitable crunch of his facial bones.

It happens almost in slow motion. He sees the ground coming towards him, bubbling up like it's going to swallow him whole. He stared it down, refusing to close his eyes, as if challenging it to hurt him, to take him as he goes. But then hands, freezing cold even through his layers of clothing, wrap around his waist and he is being hauled up in a rush of wind and dizzying speed. He bumps into a hard chest and feels as if he's stepped into a freezer.

"Hey," A voice low and playful crackles through him, "You okay?"

He turns around slowly, and is not at all prepared for the site he is greeted with. There is so much all at once, startling and glowing and fracturing. His eyes catch an warm icy gaze, blizzard white hair, pale skin, cold-kissed lips, hands running with blue veins and silver rings.

"You okay?" The stranger repeats, looking at him with concern.

He honestly doesn't know if he has the ability to talk. His mouth opens, his throat bobs, but words are lost cargo.

"Can you hear me?" The stranger asks, accompanying the question with sign language.

Percy responds automatically, raising a fist and moving it back and forth; his head accompanies the action but still no words come out.

They smile at him, and start signing another question. He doesn't bother to stop them, tell them they aren't deaf, he can hear, he just can't talk. He's speechless.

Are you okay? They sign.

He nods, and the words stuck in his throat finally tumble out. "Yes, yes," It is croaky with overwhelming emotion, "Thank you for catching me. I’m sorry I uh—" He doesn't have any respectable excuse for being mute for the entire first half of their interaction. He is just completely struck by everything the stranger is.

"Ah so you can hear me," The stranger laughs. He decides the sound is what makes stars. "Well I'm glad you're okay. I'm Jack."

Percy snorts. This cannot be real. Ice, him thinking about Jack Frost, and suddenly his saviour's name is jack? What has the universe been doing with its time to plan this?

“I'm Percy," He stares at them curiously studying the snowflakes that seem to cling to their floppy white hair despite the snow season being weeks away, and the blue eyes that hurtle him to the Abraham lake in Canada. A holiday his family had taken a mere year ago and one of the most beautiful places he's ever seen.

His demigod senses are peeking out their window, as curious as he is. The action puts him on high alert. His instincts are usually only alerted when he's in danger or............. in love.

"What are you?" He cannot stop the question. His mouth has a self-controlled function and no way to override it.

Jack raises their brow, "What are you, Percy?" His name sounds like luxury rolling off the stranger's tongue.

But the question throws him off guard and before he has time to drool over them again he is pulling his pen out and twirling it between his fingers anxiously. "Are you here to kill me?"

That barks a laugh from Jack, who looks so entirely amused he can't help but wonder if he can frame the moment to keep with him forever; a brow quirked, a slight dimple on their right cheek as their smile grows, and bunched freckles as their nose scrunches slightly.

"Get a lot of assassination attempts do you?"

“You have no idea," He feels his eyes roll in annoyance, an automatic reaction after all these years.

"No Percy," Jack says softly. It brushes across his skin like cool paint and snowy pine leaves. "I am here because the moon told me to be."

"The moon?" He sputters, "What do you mean the moon?"

"I mean exactly that. I talk to the moon and it answers."

He can feel his legs grow weak. "The moon— the moon— the....... moon," He mutters, staring at Jack.

They are silent as he attempts to compartmentalize his thoughts. "You know what?" He finally speaks, "That's not the weirdest thing I've ever heard. The children of Demeter talk to grain so this isn't that far out of reach."

Jack just looks at him with a patient, gentle smile on their face.

"So what are you? A child of Selene?"

"I am not a demigod." They shake their head. "I was chosen by the moon three hundred years ago. I am the spirit of winter."

The silence stretches between them like taffy. He isn't sure he's heard this right.

"You're—" He cannot even bring himself to say it.

"Yes, I'm Jack Frost."

Percy's legs give our from under him. Jack is not quick enough to catch him but he lands on a pillow of snow right before he bruises his knees. "You're Jack Frost?"

"Yes. And you are Percy Jackson."

"How—how do you know?"

"I've been alive for a very long time. I know a lot of people."

He just hums, trying to wrap his head sound another layer of myth and fable that makes up the fabric of the world.

"Why are you here?" He finally gutters out. "I mean I know the moon told you to come but why?"

"I uh have a theory but I need to ask something of you in order to know if I'm right."

He frowns, staring up at the stranger. No not stranger. Can you even call someone who's been around for centuries a stranger? What are they a stranger to? They have seen and heard and learnt and loved more than he ever has or ever will. It's more like he is the stranger. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just need you to summon water for me."

A thousand questions sit like caught snowflakes on his tongue but he let's them melt instead of spilling them into the world. Instead he gets up and concentrates on all the water sources surrounding them.

A reservoir one hundred miles away, fire hydrants near bursting with unused pressure, a small pond in a small park about five miles south, and of course the ocean in front of them, no more than fifty miles within reach.

"How much do you need?"

"Give me fifty liters."

He closes his eyes and imagines the pond, the water rippling within it. He imagines holding it in his palm as he would a basketball ball. When he feels a cool sensation wash over his skin he opens his eyes once more and sees a swirling blob of water surrounding his hand, dancing to the beat of his pulse.

"Is this enough?"

"Plenty," They smile and then their hands are reaching out and as if the water knows they're calling to it, it bounces over in little bubbles. As it touches their fingers a ray of light bursts from the contact and it turns to ice. Jack sucks in a breath, watching in amazement as the water freezes and hits the ground in a flurry of snow.

"What?" Percy cannot hold in his curiosity any longer. "What is it?"

"The moon was right." They look at him, eyes sparkling with something more than awe or curiosity.

"About?" He prompts.

"We're soulmates."

This is a story about their destinies.

"We're what?" Percy whispers. He has never gotten loud when he was surprised or angry or sad. He has always been soft.

"I usually need my staff to solidify water but if I use elements touched by my soulmate I can do it without aid."

"This is ridiculous!" He sputters. There is absolutely no way this is real. Seriously? Soulmates? He would laugh if he wasn't so outraged.

"You don't believe in soulmates?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe in!" He growls, "This whole ordeal is completely insane."

"What would it take to convince you Percy Jackson?" Jack just smiles, it is shining with happiness like it hadn't before.

"I have no idea because I have never heard of or encountered a soulmate." He hisses.

"Do you know why you can see me?"

He shakes his head, thoughts swirling faster than the hurricanes his further looses.

"Because you believe in me."

"I thought you had control over who sees you and who doesn't?" He raises a brow.

"Only with children. I can choose to show myself whether they believe or not. I have the ability since enough of them do believe." They say. "But adults are different. If they don't believe I cannot make myself appear to them. I am simply a ghost of their childhood past."

"I don't understand." Percy cannot wrap his mind around this. "How do you know you can only make ice out of whatever water I touch?"

Jack looks around for a brief moment before catching sight of something behind them. In a split second they are there and then they're back.

"Watch," He pours the water from the bottom he'd nabbed over his hand. It falls to the floor as liquid as it had started out.

"That doesn't prove anything, how do I know you're not just making sure you don't turn it to ice?"

"I cannot touch anything without freezing it, especially water." They worry at their bottom lip with their teeth, thoughts flying across their face. "It's like your friend Leo." They nod their head towards the café where Percy can still see his friends snuggled into the booth. "He doesn't necessarily turn everything he touches to ashes but he will always leave a warm imprint no matter how or what he has touched."

"How do you know that?" He gapes.

"Immortality gives you a lot of time to know the world." They shrug. "Now do you believe me?"

"I don't know." He answers truthfully. "I mean if we are soulmates..." He tries to form the question into some semblance of sense and order. "Does that mean I'm tied to you? That we have to like I don't know get married and spend eternity together?"

"No," Jack says gently, "No you can deny this bond if that is how you feel. It does not mean anything except that the universe put our souls in the same constellation. We are free to pick and choose who we love."

“And how will it work if we do decide to get together?” He frowns, “I will age but you will always stay the same.”

They look at him, head tilted, ice eyes bright. “But you know that’s not true.”

Everything in him barrels forward like a tidal wave. It cannot be. No-one knows. Not even his mother. “What isn’t true?” He will play this carefully, like the strings of a harp. He will not let his life crash through the ground.

“Why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” He is adamant in his stance. He will not bow.

“You are denying the life you chose.” Jack considers him. “Why?”

“I’m not denying anything.” He huffs, “I’m just taking it slow.”

A snort bursts of them, arrogant and amused. “You are taking becoming a God slow?”

“I want to live with my friends before they figure it out!” He cries, all the fear and terror and worry burning through him.

Jack moves closer, presses a cold hand to his shoulder. “It is okay to be scared and angry and worried but do not forget that you are worthy of the title and you should wear it like a crown, not a burden.”

“There is always some burden in this much power.” He is bitter. He is right.

“Come,” Jack pulls them together, “Go meet your friends.” The hug is so cold but comforts him to the bone. “And when you are ready to make a decision, just whisper my name and i will answer, no matter where i am, or how far apart we are.”

He studies the person before him, beautiful and strange in an inviting sort of way, like no matter how much he learns about them he'll always want to know more. "Well you are very pretty."

They laugh, and the sound lights up the ocean inside him. "Thank you."

“Live Percy Jackson.” Jack Frost whispers.

And then Percy is standing outside a café, an icy wind dancing between his fingertips, and the impression of a freezing hug still clinging to his clothes. He realizes he feels happy. He feels safe.

This is a story about their love.

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

[image id: a poem by John P Smeeton titled "Jack Frost in the Garden" the poem reads:

Jack Frost was in the garden;// I saw him there at dawn;// He was dancing round the bushes// And prancing on the lawn.// He had a cloak of silver,// A hat all shimm'ring white,// A wand of glittering star-dust,// And shoes of sunbeam light.

Jack Frost was in the garden,// When I went out to play// He nipped my toes and fingers// And quickly ran away.// I chased him round the wood-shed,// But, oh! I'm sad to say// That though I chased him everywhere// He simply wouldn't stay.

Jack Frost was in the garden:// But now I'd like to know// Where I can find him hiding;// I've hunted high and low —// I've lost his cloak of silver,// His hat all shimm'ring white,// His wand of glittering star-dust,// His shoes of sunbeam light"

the background is a light blue and white marble. end id]

Tags: @fantasylover16 @queen-of-demons-and-hell @nishlicious-01 @leyontheway @caffeinated-croissant

#Jack Frost x Percy Jackson #Crackships keep fandom alive #Jack Frost #Percy Jackson #PJJG fanfic #the story of us #not edited

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queensdivas · 4 years ago

Text

Peonies Chapter 6

Finally getting to the good stuff because I have been waiting for these chapters!!! Like waiting for Chiara to get to this point and for the record. This chapter is very long. Freakin’ 15 pages on my google docs so just be ready for a long read.

But!

+18 and older in this chapter!!! Smut alert (cause it’s spicy)!!!!!!! Once again +18 and older in this chapter!!!

Other than that here we go!!!

Next chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

HOLY FUCK FUCK FUCK!

GOD THIS IS FANTASTIC HOLY SHIT!

My fingers were yanking on his hair as I was riding him to oblivion! His nails dug into my back for the tempo to pick up even more. I could feel his teeth biting hard into my neck which made me squeeze even harder. I never thought that being bitten was such a wonderful feeling in my life! His teeth just clenching into my skin just made it so much better!

“Holy fuck Chiara!” He took in a huge breath of air as I pushed him down onto the ground.

“Scream my name!” I yelled as we were getting closer and closer to that sweet edge!

“GRIGOR AH FUCK!” My nails digging into his chest!

“Choke me.” I stopped to then looked directly into his eyes.

“Do you want me to say it in italian? Ti prego soffocami Chiara.” Holy hell. If that’s what he wants then who am to say no. Picking up my rhythm again as my hand reached down to his throat.

“That’s it...holy shit that’s it!” God I could feel him..Holy hell. My toes were curling from the pleasure as me choking him would fuck me harder! The way he’s moaning is just absolutely stunning and making it so much better! It’s so..fucking..beautiful! His moaning just sends shivers up and down my entire core!

Grigor's hands traveled up to squeeze my breast tightly for then his left hand to travel up to my neck. Oh god he’s going faster! Yes yes yes yes! I could see flowers blooming! Stars exploding before my eyes. I had to let go of my grip to collapse on his chest as he pounded into me.

God I want to stick my tongue down his throat fuck! Turning my head for me to start kissing the fuck out of him. Our tongues slithered around with one another till he basically took over for a few moments. Stopping the tangliging as he began diving into my neck to mark the shit out of me.

“Stick your tongue down my throat.” Pulling his head from my neck to start slamming my lips against him for our tongues to start twirling around with one another. God his tongue can make me come just from this Jesus. He stopped as the final penetration was arriving and it was so beautiful! Each thrust was hitting exactly where it needed to be!

“Grigor! Grigor..” My eyes rolled in the back of my head as we looked at one another. Just watching his facial expression change was just intoxicating!

“Cumming..CUMMING!” Grigors neck leaned back as I laughed since I’ve never seen him in such selief. After a moment he looked up to see that I..I..

“Did you not?” It cued for him as he pushed me onto the ground and got on top of me.

“I may not be able to finish you with my cock. But I know your pussy loves other things besides cock. Ride my face.” My entire body turned dark red for me to slide down and positioned myself on his face.

Dear...Ah...God...I can’t even describe on how. Ahhhhh. My hands began to touch my own breast for my head to lean back to almost fall backwards onto his body. His tongue was going round and round constantly.

My hand went down to start rubbing my own clit to make the sensation feel even more exquisite. Yes..YES! While my right hand was continuing on my clit my left hand began to pull his air. His two bare hands travelled up my sides to then give my ass a wonderful smack.

“Gri..Grigor..almost..almost..” He kept smacking which was the final push over the edge. A wave of electricity streaked through my body in the final moment. Yanking his hair as hard as I could for him to moan underneath my body.

This Russian coldness couldn’t even bother us at the moment from the large amount of body heat radiating off one another. Climbing off of him to then lay down on the cool grass. My chest was rising and falling as we both were staring up into the tree. The leaves are swaying in the wind that was allowing a cool breeze to rest on our naked bodies.

“Holy fuck.” I smiled as we turned our heads to face one another.

“I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like that…” He commented as I smiled.

“Our love making would’ve been the type you would see in great halls. The greek gods I believed experienced something like that before.” Grigor sat up to grab a glass of water. He took a large sip then for me to sit up and take a sip after him.

“Tell me my dearest do you always enjoy..” Motioning to his neck as he sighed.

“The Emperor told me once that it helps make this more pleasurable. Guess that’s the only time that he’s been right because holy fuck.” I guess so. He wasn’t wrong about that because that was fantastic. Wait..those are hand prints.

“Grigor..I left..” Oh shit. I left markings and more specifically my hand marks from too hard of choking.

“I’m so sorry oh my…” I feel horrible! My eyes drifted over to my shoulder where I had bite marks from what I could see.

“Barbarians we are.” He commented as he scooted closer to me and kissed his own bite marks. I leaned over to see that we still had some fresh bread and I am starving. Leaning over to grab a slice then spread a little jam.

“So when were you going to tell me you’ve been learning italian.” Taking a bite as he snuck in to take the next bite.

“Figured you would be more impressed. A tutor for the children was teaching them French and since French and Italian are very similar, it worked out perfectly.” He had a little jam on the corner of his mouth. Leaning in to lick it off he left a soft kiss on his lips.

“Thieves should be punished.” Laughing as I was extremely close to his face.

“Should I be?” My hand snuck up his chest

“Yes. But not at this moment.” Raising my piece of my bread to then scoot away from him. Grabbing a grape to put into my mouth to slow eat in front of him.

“You should try these grapes Grigor. They taste devine.” Taunting him with another grape as I could tell he wanted to get on top of me and ravish. But ah ah ah. He’s being punished for being such a thief. He took a grape from the vine scoot over towards me with it in his mouth.

“No reward for your Grigor. You’ve stolen from me.” Tapping the grape for him to chew it then kissing my finger.

“You’re too much for me Chiara.” Falling back onto the ground as I laughed at him for a minute. I enjoy a little torture in my life.

“When am I going to see those sketches on Grigor? You promised me.” Looking down at him as he smirked at me. Forming my puppy eyes to have him get up from the grass and onto the blanket.

Joining him on the blanket as he opened his sketching bag. He pulled out the first sketch as it..oh..why am I not surprised that it’s a naked woman. But the details are remarkable. To the smallest details on the naked bodies to small beauty marks.

“Grigor..Grigor this is scandalous.” Chuckling as I went to the next is that Svenska? Now the cold was catching up as I felt him place his coat around my shoulder. This is one of the most comfortable coats I’ve worn.

“How on earth did you persuade Svenska to get naked for you?” Asking him as he started to rub the back of his head.

“Costed a gold necklace.” Mhmmm.

“So you’ve slept with other people besides George?”

“Of course not! Before George yes but as I told you, all it costed was a gold necklace.” Well normally I’m not one for degrading fellow women in this world. But at least my nipples aren’t bigger than apples. I kept going through his artwork to see more than naked women, there was one of a wild elk with such gigantic antlers! I’ve never seen one with such large antlers and a tiger?

“That was my old tiger. His name was Maxim and was a wonderful cat till he ripped the arm off my old nanny. Other than that he was a wonderful pet.”

“You would enjoy Africa and all the wildlife there Grigor. You would be able see a herd of zebras and the elephants. Watch those wonderful Lions attack these prey and even better. Witness a cheetah running full speed at an ostrich!” Then reality kicked in. He wouldn’t come to Africa to sketch some wild animals. Truth be told I have been beginning to enjoy our time together. Even before the wild sex.

“Tell me more about Trento.” He asked for me to raise my eyebrow. It’s not like he’s ever going to visit there in his life.

“Why must I always talk about myself. I feel as if it’s all about myself without even knowing much about you. I know you obviously but I get old talking about myself.” Telling him as I handed him back his sketches.

“Rijn Van Rembrandt. My father took me to St. Petersburg for some business. When I was there I snuck off from the boring meeting to see an exhibition happening. His work Bathseba at her bath was on display and I just stood there. My father eventually found me and that is when he bought me my first sketching papers and pencils.” Kissing him softly to show a little gratitude

“Thank you for sharing with me Grigor.” Another kiss for him to place his hands on my cheeks.

“My mother surprisingly did not enjoy the idea of me drawing. Said it would lead to bad habits and wanting to seek out what is bad for me.” He took the sketches from my hands for his hands to travel up my left leg.

“You’re not imagining your mother are you? Catherine told me that the Emperor thinks about his mother when he does the deed.” I started laughing because Grigor fell back onto the blanket and laughed.

“My mother sadly loved me and always looked out for me in the end. Not to mention she treated me like a human being instead of a diseased child.” My eyes widened at his statement to pop another grape into his mouth.

“You really don’t enjoy him do you?” At this point this is starting to lay the seeds of the coup into the mind of Peter's most trustworthy associate. I’m not saying that all this time has been going towards the coup. Because I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve been spending together with one another. Trust me. But I also came here to help Catherine with the coup. Just took a little break because someone’s cock is marvelous. Oh that was too much.

“He’s a good friend to say the most. We do enjoy hunting together, drinking, and partying.” Not going to bring up George of course since it’s not my place.

“Hmmm. Must be interesting to see someone like Peter rule a country when he’s such a loose canon.”

“Well that’s where I come in my dear. I’m sort of that force that blocks those too mad for the country ideas. He’s tried to establish that the ladies of the court walk around in only robes and their hats. I then told him about the mysert that women hold and that they need to stay mysterious.” Wow. Who’d know that Grigor had such an important role. I’m not saying that he’s not important but he’s the barrier from all the bad ideas. Not all of them but tries his best I’m assuming.

Though reality striked that Grigor will be staying in Russia once I finally head back to Italy. I think that if we continue this sort of love relationship that he would want to come to Italy but I highly doubt it’s going to happen. He has grown significantly a part of my life in such an intimate way that it’s a little hard to imagine that possibly within a few weeks I’ll be going home and leaving this troublesome country.

Yet deep down in that hardened soul he wouldn’t leave his wife for some foreign Duchess because his home his here, his future children will be here, and I will be Italy. Eventually there will be a time that I will have to get married to some other Duke or Prince who the hell knows at this point. Eventually I’ll have to get married and bring some sort of child into this world and continue on the cycle of life. At Least I’m completely aware of this fact and if he wants to come to Italy he can if not then all I lose is a lover.

SHIT! I HAVE A MEETING WITH CATHERINE TO DISCUSS SPEECHES AND ABOUT WINNING OVER MORE THAN JUST THE LADIES OF THE COURT!

“Grigor I am so sorry but I completely forgot Catherine and I are supposed to have tea very soon!” Grabbing my shirt to stand up and slip it onto my body. I then grabbed my pants to practically jump into them. I finished getting dressed to see Grigor and watched me from the blanket the entire time.

“My darling. Come to my chambers tonight and we shall finish this sketch, with a lot of wine and cheese.” Ordering him but in a very seductive matter. Though this may not last forever, I might as well enjoy the time in the present.

“Add some oranges please, and peaches.” My hands moved around to then place my hand right underneath his neck.

“And make sure those peaches are extremely juicy.” Telling him as my lips hovered over his but didn’t kiss.

“Is that understood?”

“Yes m’lady.” He shivered and gave him one extremely long kis to the point I gave his bottom lip a quick suck and bite. He moaned for a moment as I got up from the ground and my boot knife since I forgot to put it in my boot.

“Ciao Grigor!” Swaying my hips a little more to know that he was staring directly at my ass. He is starting to grow on me and these unknown feelings that have entered my core are rather nice. Though this will not be a cliche story of where I just ignore my feelings and take months on them. I’m a little smarter than that.

Making it inside the palace to see Count Orlo walking up the stairs with rolled up maps tucked in his arms. Catching up to him as he turned his head to shake it at me.

“You missed the meeting.” He commented as I sighed.

“My apologies. You going to slap me on the wrist for missing?”

“No. Just you’re here to help, not sleep with the enemy.”

“Think of it as a way for me to help get closer to the enemy. What did I miss?”

“Catherine is going with Elizabeth to the front in order to bring up the moral with the soldiers. It’s a good tactic to get the military on our side and then the church afterwards.” They looked up maps underneath his arm?

“Are those maps Orlo?” He motioned me into the empty room.

We walked over to the big table for him to plop down all the rolled up papers he had tucked underneath his arms. Going through them till he found the one he was looking for. Opening it up to then place random tabletop places. The entire war map was displayed before me as I noticed that a lot of the Sweds were winning this war.

“The Swedish have taken control of Sosnovyy Bor. An important port but not as important as Vyborg where we’re keeping them completely out of.” Taking a look to see how close Sosnovyy Bor was to St. Petersburg and it’s closer than I could’ve imagined. At any time they could easily invade St. Petersburg and we lose the war. Though it would be a good way so that Peter can be bethrowned but now can head into Moscow then to us. I’m going to avoid bloodshed in this battle.

“Orlo. How much has Catherine learned from this map?”

“She told me that she would get all the information she needed when arriving at the front.” Great.

“Orlo. Let me have this map and I’ll go through my studies to see if I can find a solution.” I think I have an idea.

“What are you planning?” Rolling up the map for myself then smiling.

“Making Catherine look like a genius.” Walking away from Orlo to then head to my chambers.

This..this might work.

*The Next Morning*

Since I missed the meeting because of lust and sketches. Catherine came up with a brilliant idea (not sarcastic at all I promise) that we would go to the front to see the soldiers and how the war is going. This is a good learning chance on my military tactics that I was more than happy to accompany her to the front.

Now I understand what she’s trying to do and I’m here to help with bringing up the soldiers moral! But at such Godless hours in the morning. And macaroons? Bring them a feast with warm meat and vegetables! Not sugary sweets! Who knows maybe it will. Catherine does know what she’s doing...most of the time. Not that she isn’t smart but soldiers prefer victories over sweets, but we won’t know till we get there.

My hand was resting on Grigor's bare chest for me to open my eyes. I’m meant to go with Catherine and Elizabeth to the front for some moral and aid. On our way there I plan on slipping a little advice under Catherines greatness. Sort of passing a note in order to get the War moving on.

Scooting over to place a soft kiss on his cheek for him to still be asleep. Fernanda came into the bedroom with my clothes for the ride. She looked at Grigor then making sure that she wasn’t too loud.

“Heavy sleeper. We’ll be fine.” Telling her as I lifted the nightgown off for her to hand me my white shirt. The corset was next for me as I looked over at Grigor who was still asleep. Hopefully this doesn’t wake him up. Placing the corset on my body as I stood straight up to wait for her to start tightening it.

“Holy shit!” Whispering as she pulled a little to the tight. I think my lungs are coming out of my throat! Another quick tight pull for her to tie it up for Grigor to still be asleep. I finished getting dressed and he was still asleep.

“I’ll be going to the front of Fernanda. Let him know whenever he wakes up that I’m not sure when I’ll get back.” Telling her as she nodded. She handed me my belt and sword for me to tighten it. Then finally my boot dagger for safety measures. If I’m going to be with a bunch of men then I’m going to stay safe. I do need something to do on the ride so why not a book. The Spirit of the Laws by Montesquieu, seems fitting.

Walking back over to Grigor's bed side to place a soft kiss on his forehead. This must’ve woken him since he grabbed my arm softly. Opening his eyes slightly for him to get up from the bed and rub his eyes.

“Good morning.” Telling him as he yawned.

“Good morning. Where are you off to?”

“I’m going to the front with Catherine and Elizabeth for the day.” Kissing his lips for him to nod then widened his eyes.

“To the front? You’re not even Russian! So why do you care about the war?” Though he does have a point since they’re not my men, not even my country.

“You do remember that I’m here for Catherine. Where she goes I must go, and if she is to go to the front then I must go to the front.” Telling him yet he was still confused about my reasoning.

“I’ll be just fine. You know that I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

“Let me kiss you for a few more minutes please.” He begged to pull me on top of him and smashed his lips against mine. Sitting in his lap for him to place kisses all over my neck and face. His lips are wonderful and extremely intoxicating. But as much as I would love him to undress me and ravish me, I have to get going for our trip.

“Grigor..Grigor stop…” Laughing for him to stop and look at me.

“Must you go?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be back this evening and you can tell me about that new trick you’ve learned.”

“Which one?”

“The seated wheelbarrow I think is what you called it.” Climbing off him to stand up next to him.

“Ciao Grigor.” He took my hand to place a soft kiss for me to walk away. I could hear Catherine coming towards the door from the other side. Opening it to see her all dolled up in her appropriate attire.

“Good morning Chiara.” Bubbly and excited in a sense for the front.

“Good morning Catherine. You are more ready than ever I see.” Telling her as we began walking down the hall.

“I’m very excited to see the front. It should be a very important learning experience for me and should help with the coup tremendously.” She told me as I nodded.

“Have you been keeping up with the war?” Asking her for us to start walking down the stairs to the carriages.

“Not really. Velementov can give me an update on arrival.” He won’t have time. He’s too busy trying to win the war!

“But you have to go in with some sort of plan Catherine. Even you would have something like that of the sorts going into it.” Telling her as she stopped walking down the stairs to turn to face me.

“This isn’t a tactic. And I imagine you are unaware of what’s going on in the war just as much as I am.” I love her confidence but this sort of idea that he’ll just tell her his plans. I think Catherine needs to understand the true situation.

“The Sweds have taken control of Sosnovyy Bor and will make their way up the coast to invade St. Petersburg. If they keep Bor they’ll use it as a city to regather supplies, the man power, and then they head to Saint Petersburg. If Velementov gets his head together he can invade Bor easily and push them all the way back to Hanko. Then from Hanko to Mariehamm, take over that group of islands and then the Sweds are back into their country. The war is over and we win. Only problem is that the Sweds have an extremely strong hold Hanko which will require even..”

“Catherine! Oh and Chiara I am delighted that both of you will be joining me on this trip. It’s quite lonely when I make this journey. Come come.” Motioning for us to follow her.

We stood next to the carriage as two servants placed two boxes inside the carriage. I’m assuming those are the macaroons. Elizabeth was first to climb in, followed by me then finally Catherine. What a weird way to bring morale up but if the boots fit then the boot fits.

“Chiara you have such a unique way of living.” Elizabeth commented for the carriage to start moving.

“Thank you?”

“I’ve heard stories like you Chiara. Women who go above the normal parts of society, always leads to such tragic deaths in the end. Poor Joan of Arc was burned at the steak, Artemisia of Caria who jumped from a tall rock in Leucas Greece.” I ummm. I don’t plan on leaping from a rock for the love of my life, and The Catholic church won’t burn me for heresy.

“No matter. Just know that it’s an exciting time to get to know you. For someone who only fucks one person you’re stronger than most.” Oh my god what is happening!?

I must say that Aunt Elizabeth is an interesting sort of woman who I think is as mad as a dog but smarter than most people realize. I believe that she uses her own sexuality to her advantage and sort of does what’s best for Peter. Which is understandable for she is his aunt. But there’s more to her than she’s letting on.

But to the front!

“It is nivering.” Elizabeth was messing with her cape as I was looking outside into the forest. Even though the Emperor is a sack of shit the landscape is gorgeous.

“A bit. But I’m glad you’ve allowed us to come with you on this experience.” I’m glad but I’m just exhausted.

“Oh I enjoy both of your company. You Catherine laugh at my jokes and you Chiara with your wit and spiteful tongue.” I wouldn’t call it spiteful. Maybe?

“Not to mention Catherines tales of German childhood are whimsical, and make me wish I knew what a kugelhopf was.” It’s a cake. Right?

“It is just a cake.” That’s what I thought. It’s a sort of cake that has raisins, fresh oranges, or lemons, and almonds. Mostly served at breakfast time if I remember correctly. They talked for a few moments till the mood changed within the carriage. Elizabeth sighed as she looked out the window.

“You should prepare yourself for a little unpleasantness on arrival.” It’s the front. I’m not exactly expecting a picnic on arrival.

“Yes. Of course.”

“So tell me then Elizabeth. What exactly is the attitude of the Russian army?” She looked at me with a small devilish smile.

“That we will not stop until every last Swedish soldier is dead. That is the attitude of the Russian army.” Leaning in closer to her as I was doubting that answer. On paper yes that would be the attitude, in the history books yes.

“Elizabeth. What is the..” The carriage stopped before I could finish asking her my question. I get that she understood what I was asking in the first place yet she has to put on a brave face to get ready for the front.

The carriage door opened for the smell of blood, vomit, gunpowder, and so much more to come swerling into the carriage. This is what war smells of. Blood and powder. I’m for certain that my great great Grandfather Sir Fabrizio would be proud of me finally experiencing some war. Even if it is just chatting with the Generals. Maybe throw in a few strategies I’ve studied through my entire life.

Catherine was the first one out as I noticed she was in a little star struck and blocking the door. Quickly moving for Elizabeth to come out and then followed by me. My boots sunk into the mud a little as it looked like a horrid place. War is horrid just remember this Chiara.

So many injured..so many dead. How can The Emperor who has been losing non stop allow this much carnage? The amount of lost lives alone, though war is war but you have to be aware when you’re on the losing side! Even I know that much! Wait Chiara. This is war and these men know that they might do for their country, for war is unavoidable.

“Ladies!” We turned our heads to see Velementov and his aids coming out of his tents.

“Empresses and Duchess. How wonderful that you’ve come. You are an inspiration to us all.” Diamonds in the rough are exactly what I would call us at this moment.

“Would you care for a macaroon? We’ve brought 300 for the men.” Ah yes. The Macaroons in order to bring up the moral of war.

“Do you mind if I take a couple?” He shoved two into his mouth and then a few into his pockets. Even I must say when I get back I’m going to stuff my face with panettones and delicious pastas.

“Please. Follow me.” Velementov instructed with his mouth full of food. Catherine looked absolutely disgusted and almost green before my eyes.

“What is that smell?”

“Bodies, mud, horse shit, smoke of cannons. It is not a place for women.” I feel offended. Joan of Arc and Khutulun were on the battlefield fighting alongside the men. Maybe not as much of the gunpowder and cannons but definitely the smell of blood and horse shit.

“If it is a place where Russian men die, then it is a place for us.” Elizabeth responded to Velementov’s statement.

“How is the war progressing General?” Asking Velementov for him to sigh a little.

“We have received some setbacks.” Some?

“But what the peevish Swede entirely lacks is our ferocious Russian fighting spirit. That in the end, always guarantees victory.” I think the Mangolians thought of that once but they successfully invaded Russia.

“So we’re losing?” Catherine and I asked and could immediately tell Elizabeth was burnt.

“Catherine! Chiara! Focus on the men. And only victory. They need hope.” Not my men. My men are in their warm beds with their family not fighting some war in order to prove that you’re just as good as your own father. Too soon? I watched as Catherine and Elizabeth began to pass around Macaroons to the men and put on a brave face. Bread and meat would be much better than macaroons but I understand the reasoning behind it.

“I’m told you’re prepared to pose for a battle painting.” A battle painting?

“Yes indeed General. Whatever will help fire the men’s morale.” A painting? Really?

“A grand victorious painting of the two of you is sure to do just that.” A painting!? So that the men could have a little time for themselves? Never!

“Tell me Velementov. What is your strategy exactly? From what I’ve read it’s been nothing but full head on attacks.” Stating as he took a macaroon from his pocket.

“The Emperor has ordered us to keep full on head attacks to the Sweds.” Catherine and Elizabeth were getting themselves ready for the war painting for me to start thinking about the strategies that have been taught to me from past Knights of my family.

“Velementov. I assume you’re away from the Norman Conquest of England in 1066?” Asking as I motioned for his aid to pull out a map.

“Williams' army contained 2,000 cavalrymen and 5,000 infantrymen with crossbows, bows, and swords. Williams only option was for a frontal assault in order to invade. After a no so frontal assault, William personally led a cavalry charge but was turned back by the Saxon defenses and the horrible weather of England. He was then defeated. Not to mention rumors of Williams death began going around, which we all know was a lie because he was seen alive, rallied his troops and renewed the assault. He ordered his soldiers to fire at a much higher angle instead of directly into the army in order to break their defense.” He looked annoyed as the map was opened for me to look at where exactly the war was going on.

“I don’t need a lecture on past military tactics. I might be a dishonorable general but not a moron.” That’s not what I’m trying to do exactly.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do Velementov. I know that the Sweds are held up in Sosnovyy Bor and from a reliable source that they might head into St. Petersburg.” Looking at a much bigger map to see that the Sweds had locked down Sosnovyy Bor.

“If you do not take Sosnovyy Bor back from the Sweds then you loose Saint Petersburg and then you might as well wave the white flag of war.” He knows and is aware of this. I think that the Emporer is too busy making stupid ideas and jokes that he doesn’t know that the Sweds are literally at his doorstep.

“What I’m saying is that you rain in from all different angles. You block them by the sea and by land to rain down on very different angles. There is only one road that the Sweds can use in order to escape and that’s an easy blockade to form as well. Attacking your own city may not be the best idea, but you save St. Petersburg from those damn Sweds. You then push them back to Hanko to surround them there.”

“You are a rare flower..a flower that blooms in the middle of a battlefield full of dead soldiers.” Velementov commented for me nod.

“One must have an understanding of war if one is to lead. Atleast I get the chance to actually understand tactics.”

“Whenever I am back at the palace. I might call upon you for more advice on war.” Picking my hand up to kiss it. Yeah this won’t be happening in a lifetime and even if he was the last man on earth I still wouldn’t sleep with him.

The carriage ride was dead silent before me. I could tell both Catherine and Elizabeth were beside themselves on having to stand on top of dead soldiers for a portrait. While I on the other hand feel extremely successful for sort of conducting my own first military tactic. Hopefully they can take back Bor and all will be settled.

“Stop!” Elizabeth ordered to bang her cane on the top of the carriage. We stopped as I looked up from my book.

Elizabeth climbed out of the carriage to stand in the middle of the forest. She began to hollar, kick, and looking like she was going to rip her own hair out of her body. That’s one way to deal with your problems and no wonder she’s kept herself sane. We looked at each other for me to wonder what that was about. Then back out to the window for a little more screaming. Only seconds later she gathered herself back together as Catherine and I watched her climb back into the carriage and place her poker face on to us. Catherine’s mood changed from tears into anger.

“Are you alright?” Asking both of them but definitely towards Elizabeth.

“Of course. Whatever it was is floating on the wind now. Do you need to? Both of you? We can stop.” Though I do feel the pain of these men. This is not my country and hasn’t affected my day to day life when I return home to Italy. This was only meant to wager Catherine in good favor.

“I need to scream. But not into the air, but at the world for allowing this to happen.”

“War is inevitable, since cavemen smashed each other’s faces in for control of the fire stick.”

“It cannot be. It is a choice.”

“Things that are built in our nature are not choices.”

“Such as our human need to seek companionship.” Commenting to look back down into my book. A macaroon sounds delicious. If a bunch of soldiers can have a macaroon then don’t mind if I do. Opening the box to grab a pink and blue macaroon to pop the pink one in my mouth.

I’m hungry. There’s no need to think that I’m some heartless woman because that is not the case. War is inevitable such as Elizabeth stated and there is no such thing as a permanent peaceful society. Eventually that society must go through blood in order to keep that peace. Both Elizabeth and Catherine watched me eat the blue one as if it was a crime.

“Can’t decide if I can stomach a macaroon or not.” Catherine took the blue box from the ground to then chuck it directly out of the carriage into the forest. There’s no need to waste macaroons, and these were delicious.

“FUCK!” She screamed for me to close my book and place it next to me.

“There you go. Let it out.”

“We have to object to this. We cannot subject men to this nightmare, their lives and hopes extinguished. Russia cannot continue on this path.”

“We will prevail.”

“At what cost?”

“Well, that is the trick to it. Knowing when the cost is still bearable and when it has tipped too far.” Though it is a certain matter that is meant to happen, eventually there is a time to call it quits. Unless you’re the Christians and Muslims and think it’s a great idea to have a war that lasts 780 years.

“That seemed too far.”

“I’ve seen worse. But I admire your heart and fire.”

“I am scorched by that, certainly and will not forget it.”

“What?”

“I hoped it would happen. You are becoming a Russian.”

I think Catherine and I need to have a long talk on ruling an Empire. War is inevitable, war is not a one time deal that goes away after a few days. It is only the continuance of politics but not solved in the halls until it’s too late.

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