#Hair Styling Course for Saloon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whocaresstillthelouvre · 6 months

Text

Golden Walkway

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader (Reader is a teacher in Jackson, has long hair.) Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: It’s your birthday, Joel takes you out to the Tipsy Bison, kisses (and does more to) you in the rain, and takes you home to give you a gift (it's sex, the gift is sex). Also, the thought of Joel spitting whiskey in someone's mouth happened and I had to write it out. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Warnings: smut, drinking, consent first, degradation second, followed by so much praise, hair pulling, spitting, Joel calls you a slut, fingering against a brick wall, F receiving oral, I watched that doggy style Narcos gif (for research) a lot, unprotected p in v, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), Joel’s canon age, Reader’s in her 30’s. Words: 4,300 A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first published fic. I'm currently working on a grander scale fic with these two, I hope to have the first chapter out within the next couple of weeks. I just really wanted to get this out there! Thanks for reading and a big thank you to @ohheypedrito for all of her help and also to our phones for not overheating when I send 40 texts at once with ideas for fics. Hope you enjoy, can't even blame the feralness of this on the full moon.

Edit: I posted the Masterlist for Elks, my work these two are included in.

***

“Was turning 21 as fun as they’d show in movies back then?” You’re cuddled in next to Joel on his couch sketching in your notebook while Joel reads a book about Native Americans that you found him. You always do this, a random question or thought to break the comfortable silence.

“Not for me, bought a 12 pack of Bud Light and split it on my porch with Tommy. Sarah was only a toddler then and I had work in the morning. Didn’t have the money or the time to go to a bar. ‘Course I don’t think a lotta people did anything the way they’d show in the movies.”

“I always wanted to have my 21st birthday at a bar, ya’ know? Wait until the clock strikes midnight and order a weird named shot.”

“Well, I reckon we could do that at the Bison tomorrow night. Might not be your 21st but I’ll get you whatever you want to drink, and the best part is you can drink before midnight.” Joel pulls you in closer and kisses your forehead, “What do you say, let me take you out for your birthday sweetheart.”

“Yes, please,” you sigh into his shoulder, “sounds amazing.”

“Wear that little blue dress I know you have hanging in your closet.”

The drinks flowing through you making you downright giddy, alcohol making you bolder, your body and your inhibitions becoming looser, your hands becoming addicted to touching Joel, first his leg, then his thigh, now his lower stomach, right at his waistband. You haven’t been this tipsy in a long time, your face feeling flushed and red more from your desire than any drink you’ve had tonight.

“You better knock that off before I take you outside in the rain and fuck you against the building, darling,” Joel huffs into your ear. His fiery warning massaging your neck causing your heart rate cooled by your inebriation to pick up.

“Sooo, keep going?” You slur back.

“If that’s what you really want,” Joel puts a forceful squeeze on your upper thigh, a layer of your dress laying between his skin and your skin. If you weren’t both sitting at the bar, and maybe in one of the more darker corners of the saloon you’d surely hike your skirt up and let him learn just how bad you want him.

It feels so good to let go with him, to giggle openly at his jokes, stare at his profile as he talks with a friend or two who stop by to say hello, or place your hand on his broad back just because you want to touch his soft blue denim shirt.

You watch as his tongue darts out and licks the leftover whiskey off his top lip, Joel’s movements becoming a little slower thanks to the amber liquid he’s been drinking all night. Some droplets glisten on his mustache, you fight every urge inside yourself to not lean over and lick them up.

“It’s what I want,” you respond as you move your hand back and forth across his waistband.

“Jesus Christ, I’m about ready to throw you over my shoulder and run home,” Joel says as he takes your hand into his and pulls it away.

“Not so fast. You told me you’d fuck me in the rain, that’s what I want for my birthday,” you whisper into his ear with a breathy giggle.

“Can’t fuck you out here in public. Small town ‘n all, but I’ll make you feel good,” Joel takes a last swig of his drink, puts the glass down and knocks his fist on the bar to let the bartender know you two are leaving. He leans forward and drawls into your ear, “Now finish your drink if you want me to show you just how happy of a birthday I can give you.”

You nod and gulp your drink down. You’re so wet, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on before. Joel grabs your arm with the perfect amount of pressure, you’ve never been so happy to get outside into the pouring rain.

——

It’s absolutely storming outside, your footsteps sloshing in the puddles on the ground. The rain pelting your’s and Joel’s bodies as you walk through late night Jackson. It feels like you’re the only two people in the whole town as you make your way farther away from the bar. The bulbs of the string lights reflecting off the water gathering on the sidewalks making your path towards Joel’s house golden. You don’t rush, the two of you not scared away by the downpour, the drops cooling your burning skin. Joel turns down the street before his, pulling you behind one of the storage buildings, it’s darker back here, practically pitch black thanks to the rain clouds blocking the moon and the nearest light source being three buildings down. You’re pushed up against the brick, Joel’s hand gently cradling your head to block it from hitting the wall, he’s such a gentleman.

“Happy birthday baby, I need you to tell me you want this, ‘n you’re okay with this, I have plans for you and I need you to tell me you want it.” Joel instructs you, all you can see is his eyes and the faint lines of his facial hair, the rest of him camouflaged by the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“I want it, more than anything. Please,” your voice straining as you beg.

“Tell me you want me to have my way with you,” Joel speaks into your slack mouth as he rubs his arched nose against yours.

“I want you to have your way with me,” you moan against his wet shirt, “so bad.”

“Good girl, now, m’not gonna fuck you here, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop and I need to have you in my bed tonight.” Joel starts to move his hand down your body lifting the hem of your dress. “But, you are going to cum for me right here.” Joel captures your mouth with his. His hand starts to trace the outline of your panties, you mew out a cry as his fingers slip through and begin to pet you right where you ache the most. His hands are so big, his fingers so long and thick, always putting the right amount of pressure, moving the way you need him to move. Joel Miller is a capable man, everyone knows that, but nobody, except for you, knows just how capable he is.

Joel sticks a finger in you, though his finger is thick and feels so good, you need more to fill you.

“Another,” you instruct in between fevered kisses. Your pussy clenches as Joel pushes another finger in you. “Yessss,” you moan out against his lips.

“That’s my good girl, gotta get you stretched out f’me.” Joel begins to kiss his way down your chin and neck stopping at your chest, your hard nipples jutting through your wet dress. Joel takes one into his mouth, sucking the fabric and your tit deeper into his mouth. The sloppy wet sounds of Joel’s suctions making you want him more.

“Another finger,” you shudder out. “Three? You really want it tonight, don’t you?” Joel mumbles against your chest as he sticks a third finger in. It burns, it burns in the best way. You’re ready for him, it’s what you’ve been waiting for all night. You bite down on your lip as your legs begin to shake, Joel can tell you’re right on the edge and twists his fingers inside of you as he finger fucks you harder.

Your orgasm bursts forward your whole body going stiff as you try not to wail out into the night.

“That’s iiiiiit baby,” Joel pulls his fingers out of you and softly pets your pussy from hole to clit.

He removes his hand from between your legs bringing it up between the two of you resting his finger tips against your lips, you open your mouth and begin to lick. His tongue meeting yours as you both clean his thick digits covered in you. He takes his hand away leaving just your mouths to taste each other. His kiss turns tender, your kiss turns desperate.

Joel pulls away resting his forehead against yours. “My beautiful birthday girl. Let’s get you home, my gift’s not done.”

——

Your body practically chills with the promise of what is left to come. Joel grabs your hand and you take it depending on him to lead you to his home. Every step you take you feel your wet core heavy with lust, you’re soaked from the rain and from Joel, if you could drown like this, you would go down with the sinking ship. His house comes into view, your body tingling in anticipation at the site as the both of you speed your footsteps up in perfect agreement.

He throws open the gate, you’re following so close you almost trip on his heels making your way up the walkway and steps. He fumbles for his keys and unlocks the doors, you take the opportunity to run your hands all over his back and sides, rubbing the wet cloth of his shirt as it molds to his body. The door swings open and you both shuffle into his living room gasps escaping your mouths, both out of breath from your dash home and your mutual want for each other. You step out of your wet shoes and shake your hair out.

“Take your dress off, right now.” Joel huffs out as he tosses his keys on the console table and begins to kick his boots off.

You strip yourself of your baby blue frock as fast as you can. You’ve never had a reason to wear such a revealing piece of clothing. You don’t know why you held onto it, let alone grabbing it from the communal clothing rack, never thinking anything, or anyone, would be worthy enough for you to dress up for. Joel’s worthy, so worthy.

“Feel like I’m a little underdressed here…” your words grab Joel’s attention as he moves his hands up to his chest to begin to unbutton his denim shirt. He gets one button taken care of before he rips it open. Shame, it’s your favorite shirt, you'll have to fix it for him later. You watch as a button rolls underneath a table, before you can note where it lands, your attention turns back to Joel to find him stepping out of his jeans and underwear leaving him completely naked.

What a sight, what a fucking sight. There’s only a lamp on in the room, Joel’s body being cast in amber color and shadow, one side of him on full display glowing in the light, the other more difficult to discern. He moves forward stalking you. “Now I’m the underdressed one here. Take them off for me,” he says as he moves to pick up a bottle of whiskey from his shelf.

You follow his instructions shucking your underwear down your legs and leaving them pooled at your feet.

“Good girl,” Joel says as he begins to walk towards you unscrewing the lid off the bottle. He stands in front of you and takes a drink. “Open your mouth,” he orders as he grabs your hair and tips your head back. He takes another pull from the bottle, this time he raises his mouth over your mouth and begins to dribble drips of whiskey down from his mouth into yours. A moan raises from your throat, causing Joel to tighten his hold on your hair and arch your head back even more. He spits the rest of the whiskey straight into your mouth, you happily swallow his spit and liquor down. He unwinds his hands from your hair, takes another drink and kisses you, the whiskey and his tongue spilling into your mouth. Joel pulls back and takes his last swig before resting the bottle on the table. “Get upstairs.”

You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life, tripping over your feet as you rush your way up, Joel’s naked form hunting you like prey up each step.

The sight of Joel’s bed brings a new wave of goosebumps to your skin.

“Bend over on the bed darlin,” Joel turns on a lamp in the corner and pulls it closer. “Need to lick and fuck you with my tongue.”

You move over to Joel’s side of the bed and bend forward, your ass sitting high in the air and your face in the sheets, you inhale the smell of Joel on his sheets. You swing your hips in giddy anticipation of what’s about to happen.

You feel his body lean over yours, his erection laying over your lumbar. “Okay baby, once again, need you to tell me you’re good with me having my way with your body,” he tempts into your ear.

“Fuck, y—yes, fuck, of course I am good. So good.”

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s heavy body lifting off of yours as he kneels between your legs. You feel his hot breaths on you where you’re aching for him the most, you widen your stance egging him on to touch you. “Look at you,” Joel licks your thigh, “so fuckin’ wet you’ve spilled out into your thighs.”

You scream a pleasured yell as Joel’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your thigh and sucks your skin into his mouth. The pain is perfect. He loosens his bite, kissing and licking the spot, the sensation making your body quiver.

“Okay baby?”

“Y-y-yessss,” you answer.

“Whaddo you need sweetheart?”

“Lick me,” you beg out, “please.”

“‘Course. Where do you want me to lick you?” Joel questions as he nuzzles his head against your ass cheek, giving it a small bite.

“My pussy. Pleeeaaase,” you’d say you sound pathetic but you couldn’t care less, your lust overshadowing any type of pride.

“Mm, you sound so needy baby, you sound like you really need my tongue on you, huh?” His teasing drawl drives you crazy, your body won’t stop moving, absolutely radiating tensity from your want.

“Please,” you implore, sobbing out.

“Alright baby,” his hands grab your cheeks and spreads them, widening his view of you. “Prettiest thing I ever seen, love your pussy.”

This act feels so depraved, everything on display for him, legs and cheeks spread wide, your pussy exhibited for him like it’s an art piece.

You literally scream into the bed, biting down on Joel’s comforter as his tongue finally meets your core. This, thiiiiiiis is what you’ve been wanting all night. Joel moans against you, not being able to hold himself back as he tastes you, his fevered licks exploring your cunt, his large tongue mapping every inch of you. He’s absolutely conquering you, the noises of his lips and tongue smacking against your wetness soundtracking his journey.

He can feel you getting close your hips beginning to cant as your orgasm begins to crest. You knew it wouldn’t take long, between the alcohol buzz and Joel’s tongue lapping up your wetness and cum from earlier, you knew you’d be a goner.

“Mmf, cum for me,” Joel speaks against you, his mouth full of you, too busy to pull away to clearly speak. You don’t think he can get any closer to you, his tongue working your orgasm up in intensity with each swirl and dash against your clit. You feel it, it’s here. Your legs instantly collapse, thankful that the rest of your body is resting on the bed. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut and then begin to rapidly blink as your orgasm shatters through you. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit as it pulses. You’re too turned on to make a noise, Joel stepping in for you and groaning as your juices seep out of you.

“Did so good baby,” Joel says leaving one last kiss on your clit before standing up behind you. You want to flip over to look at him, you haven’t seen his face since you laid down on the bed. You have no energy, you’re just a shell of a woman, the only sensations you can feel is the pool of wetness in between your legs and your light inebriation.

Your attention gets pulled to the sound of Joel spitting in his hand, followed by a hiss coming out of his mouth. When you realize exactly what he’s doing, you summon the strength needed to turn over. You flip over, your back thudding on the mattress your legs still spread wide, feet resting on the floor. And there…. there…. THERE he is, standing in the middle of his room, one large hand wrapped around his hard cock softly stroking as he watches you with hooded eyes. You know you just came, but the sight makes your pussy clench with desire.

Joel jerks himself off as his eyes roam your exhausted form. “Been thinking ‘bout this all day. You all laid out in front of me heaving for air after cummin’ all over my tongue,” slow strokes matching his lazing words. “Just about canceled our night out when you opened your door in that little blue dress, looked like you were wearing the sky, baby.”

You bite your lip as all of your senses are so overtly overwhelmed by lust. The sight of Joel’s handsome face watching you, the hazel flecks in his eyes twinkling in the golden light of the lamp. The smell of the rain on your skin mixed with the heady scent of your arousal and Joel’s sheets. The taste of Joel’s whiskey tongue still in your mouth. The sound of Joel’s fist pumping along his hard cock. The feel of the aftershocks of your orgasm still quaking your body. It’s so fucking much, you need Joel inside you. The thought of feeling him stretch you causes a whimper.

“Yeah baby? Havin’ a hard time over there?” Joel stops stroking his hard length, his hand pauses on his shaft. “You want me to fuck you now?”

“Pleeeease,” you keen out.

“Alright sweetheart.” Joel confidently strides over to you, dick still in hand. He stops right at the edge of your feet. “Turn back around ’n get on all fours in the middle of the bed f’me.”

You follow his instructions eager to please. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can feel Joel enter you.

“Good girl,” he praises as the mattress dips lower with his weight behind you.

Your heart is pounding so loud, your whole body thrumming, you gulp down a breath of air trying to calm your need. You feel Joel’s cock brush against your ass cheek, he’s so close to fucking you.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you real good and hard now. Happy birthday baby.”

And just like that, Joel buries his cock inside of you, you’re absolutely stretched around him. Your clit already worked over by Joel’s tongue, now your hole deliciously stinging while it flutters around his cock. He begins thrusting, tender and slow full strokes. Entering and exiting, swirling the head of his cock right at the entrance before plunging back in because he knows you love the feeling. Joel’s groans and your cries join in song as he begins to pound faster, the sound of your bodies slapping together match the rhythm.

“Feel so fucking good, always so perfect for me. S’a good girl, always take it so good,” Joel grits out.

He grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist as he pounds into you. “No one knows how fucking slutty you get for me behind these walls. They think you’re one of those innocent little teachers.” Joel pulls your hair harder causing a scream of ecstasy from you. “You love this, don’t you?”

You do. It’s so rough, so different from how gentle he always is with you. It feels like a luxury to be treated this way by him.

“Y-y-y-yes, God I love it,” you whimper.

“That’s right. That’s what I like to hear. So pretty so smart. So much smarter than me, now I’m makin’ you stupid with my cock, right baby?”

Everybody knows Joel Miller as the strong, silent type, a man of few words, somebody who doesn’t do chit chat. But with you in his bed naked and wailing as he slams into you, Joel Miller won’t shut up.

“Doin’ so good for me. So pretty, so perfect f’me. So wet for me.”

“You made me so wet earlier, I was afraid I was going to leave a mark on the barstool.” Your words coming out as tortured weeps, so lost in your ecstasy you struggle with every word spoken.

“Fuuuuuck.” That got him good. He pounds you even harder, the bed frame shaking violently against his wall, your body and cunt acting as if it’s the only barrier between Joel knocking a hole in the plaster. “Had I fuckin’ known I would have made you stick your face on that chair and made you lick yourself up as I fuck you against it.”

That’s it, that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Joel’s deep timbered accent grunting those deviant words as he grabs you and begins to roll his hips into your cunt. Your body is strung so tight and rigid in all places besides your hips and core, pumping and rolling along with Joel’s as he fucks you. You’re close again, your panting breaths letting Joel know.

“Baby, if you gotta cum, cum,” his grip on your hips pressure into you.

“Going … going.. going to,” the only words you can say as your third orgasm radiates out of your body, your pussy is the epicenter, tingles firing through your veins, your hands fisting the blankets at your detonation. Slack jawed and fucked senseless you rally the strength to not disintegrate and fall into Joel’s bed. Your world has been shattered by Joel, but your body survives for him, your legs and arms shaking under gravity and your weight as they deal with the fallout.

“C’mere baby, lemme help you.” Of course he can tell you’re struggling. He reaches his hands around, clutching your stomach and pulling you up against him. Your back up against his chest, his hand seeking out your breast, the other wrapping around your torso and clutching you to him. He holds you as he fucks into you, his nose brushing against your ear as he puffs and grunts against your neck. “Fucking. Love. You. So. Much.” Each word matching a thrust into you. Your hands find his and grip them, you’ve never felt more loved and protected. Joel Miller has got you.

You feel the familiar shudder in Joel’s movements as he edges close to his climax. His labored breaths getting louder and more fevered against your neck. You’re absolutely wrecked, but the angle of Joel’s cock inside of you mixed with the feeling of the shudder in his movements as he edges himself brings forth another orgasm. Words are gone, just sounds, whatever your throat can muster up and out of your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Joel repeats. His hands squeezing yours so tightly, his chest heaving against your back, his strong thighs straddling yours, his nose pressing into your ear. You feel his body tense as he pulls out. His release coating your pussy as his whole body surrounds you. Hot breaths huffing against the side of your face in between featherlight kisses. “Love you,” a whisper in your ear so delicate and sweet as he lets go of your hands. Your body falling forward without his support, your arms catching you before crashing down on the bed. Joel gets up with a groan as you lay yourself down on your stomach, taking the opportunity to stretch your legs out before rolling over on your side to watch Joel. He stands arms akimbo in the middle of the room. He’d look like a Greek statue if his shoulders weren’t rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous and he looks just as wrecked as you feel.

“Probably shouldn’t have gotten up as quick as I did,” he chuckles. “Damn well feel like I’m standing in the middle of a earthquake.” You love the casual banter he puts forth seconds after being deep inside you, his cum still covering your core. This is love.

You smile at him, your cheek resting on your hand as a makeshift pillow. You’re exhausted… the whole night and your four orgasms catching up with you. Eyes feeling heavy, matching your limbs you begin to drift off.

A wet sensation in between your legs jerks you awake. “Sorry baby, just want to clean you up,” a whisper just as light as Joel’s tender attention as he washes you lulls you back to sleep.

——

“Baby,” Joel’s low voice gently wakes you up along with a soft kiss to your forehead.

You groan as you stretch your sore muscles under the sheet, opening your eyes to find Joel gazing down lovingly at you. He’s backlit by the filtered morning sunlight shining in through his bedroom windows. What a way to wake up. “Happy birthday sweetheart, I’d let you sleep all day but I need to give you my present.” His face is so bright and cheerful, a boost in your confidence provided by just how happy he looks when he’s with you.

“Thought you gave me your present already last night,” you yawn.

“Sweet girl, that was a present for both of us. Now come on, get up.” You grab his offered hand and reluctantly get out of bed. Joel wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, his hands splayed across your back as you nuzzle your face in his warm chest. “Happy birthday.”

A/N: THANK YOU for reading my first ever fic. My inbox is always open. :)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elks #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal

846 notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 8 months

Text

Heartdresser | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x braider!reader ― Warning: mentions of a brother, social media au mixed with regular writing, tooth-rotting fluff, fem!reader (she/her); - 2.8k words + social media setting. ― Summary: When Lewis finds himself just a couple days away from a racing weekend and without his usual braids he desperately searches for suggestions of available hairdressers in the area. As the saying goes, love can come from the most unexpected places, and Lewis is about to discover that this is, in fact, true. (based on this request)

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Being a Formula One Driver had its perks, from obvious and big things such as traveling everywhere to not-so-obvious and small things like having your hair stylist travel to you when you needed them. After becoming an adult and famous, it took Lewis a couple of years to come to terms with his hair, how to style it, how to take care of it, and how to embrace the texture and volume. He felt finally whole when he reached that point, one where meaningless comments on the internet wouldn’t make him rethink his path, goals, and achievements. Of course, comments hurt, but being comfortable with yourself helped, and that was something Lewis learned.

Now, his braids were part of him. The hairstyle being associated with his image in the blink of an eye. Something that made him feel handsome, and connected with his roots. Something that seemed to help other young black boys around, who started to see themselves as stylish and handsome too.

That’s the main reason why he was so frustrated when his braider called him to tell them they couldn’t make it to Las Vegas. And the thing with braids is that it's not only a style that connects you to your roots, and makes you feel comfortable, it is also a hair protection style. Though Lewis doesn’t tell people he has superstitions and somehow it is true, part of him feels like he races better when he’s feeling himself in all senses of the word. This means having his hair in the braids he’s been looking forward to for over two weeks is something important to him.

So in the heat of the moment, he decides to look for help on Twitter.

“Hi, you must be Lewis,” you smile, extending your hands, and the man in front of you takes it in with a grin.

“Hey, good afternoon,” his grip is still thigh yet soft on your hand. “Yeah, it’s me. Thank you for having me on such short notice.” He’s handsome and polite in all the ways one should be to be considered perfect, and you start to understand why your baby brother was drawn to admire his persona outside the tracks.

You shake your head with a chuckle, “It was actually my day off, but I had no problem fitting you in since it meant Dee would get to meet you.”

“Oh- honesty is something I find hot,” he chuckles and adds a grin for good measure, all while looking straight into your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

Add funny to the list of things Lewis Hamilton seems to be.

“Who’s Dee, by the way?”

“It’s Aiyden, my little brother. I call him Dee,” you explain before adding, “He’s finishing a Chemistry project with a few friends at school. He was tempted to skip but gave up after a pep talk on how school is important, and I would take forever doing your hair just so he could see you.”

Lewis nods while you explain, and then he’s chuckling just like minutes ago.

“I don’t mind waiting for him with you,” he winks.

You’re not sure if he’s being friendly, funny, or flirty, but any of these F words coming from the black guy in front of you are surely making your heart skip a beat.

“You can sit here while I grab everything,” you point to a chair in front of a big mirror and Lewis does as said.

“Your hair looks fire,” he comments, watching from the mirror while you go through the small saloon gathering the packs of hair and combs you would need. “Did you do it yourself?”

“Thanks,” you stop just for a second, smiling when your eyes meet. “And yeah, I did it just last weekend.”

“You look even more stunning with this style,” and just like that he has you giggling again. “I mean it. I saw your profile picture and I was convinced you couldn’t get more beautiful, and then you opened that door with a smile and these amazing braids and I was like wow.” “You’re a funny one.”

“I’ve heard some women like their man funny, is that your case? If so, I’m ready to get into stand-up comedy.”

You double with laughter, shaking your head and biting your lips to keep the funny noises inside.

“Same style you’ve sent me the picture?” Lewis nods. “Any addition or preference?” you ask, starting to section his hair, and he answers no while making himself comfortable on the chair.

And even though you joked about taking forever just so your brother would catch Lewis, you ended up really taking forever because the driver in front of you would joke around and give you flirty comments and you couldn’t help but stop to laugh. The style he wanted was fairly fast, and his curls weren’t that thick, but still, you two did a small snack break when he ordered from a vegan bakery downtown. He was a fun guy to talk to, you came to learn that pretty quickly, which only added to his face card, which certainly was never denied.

It was one of the best sessions you’ve had in a long time.

You were just finishing the final touches, adding water to boil, and cutting the small strands coming off the braids, when the bell over the door rang, announcing your little brother’s arrival. He has an incredulous expression on his face watching his idol sitting on the chair of his sister’s salon.

“Hey man, how was the chem’s project?” Lewis asks and Aiyden turns around to the door, doing a small victory dance and, probably, the most hideous expressions to conceal his eagerness and happiness.

You and Lewis laugh.

“Omg, hi, Lewis!” He finally walks to you, shaking hands with Lewis. His eyes – big orbs gleaming with excitement.

“Aren’t you gonna say hi to your sister, young man?” with your hands on your waist you furrow your brows in the direction of the curly-haired boy who smiles, engulfing your body in a big hug. You hug him back before tapping his back and fake complaining about how he was crushing you.

Aiyden had just turned fifteen, but his love for sports seemed to help him defy your DNA and grow more than your family’s average size. He was almost reaching your height, and he sure was stronger than you, but he was still just your baby boy.

“These new braids are lit, man! Told ya my sister would make it happen,” Ayiden, who still has one of his arms around your shoulders, tells Lewis with a proud smile.

The driver moves his head confidently checking his hair in the mirror, “She was a great braider, and even better company, to be honest.”

Yn rolls her eyes playfully before going back to the water and mentioning for Ayiden to take a step back. She dips the ends of the braids into the water, waiting for a bit before taking them off and draping a towel around Lewis’ broad shoulders.

“So, your sister mentioned a chem school project. How was it?”

And just like that Ayiden and Lewis are talking non-stop while you tidy the salon, watching their interaction with a fond smile. The Brit was attentive to your brother, always ready to listen rather than speak, always engaging, and making Ayiden feel comfortable to share whatever he wanted to.

He probably had no idea, but that was an easy way to get to your heart. Ayiden was your treasure, and the fact that Lewis was treating the boy as if he was his little treasure too only added to the list of things you found amazing about him.

“...right, Yn?” Dee asked and you snapped out of your daydream.

“What?”

“Lewis just invited us to the Vegas GP, I said we were going, right? Please, please, please,” he pleaded in front of you with his two hands together as if in prayer, and you bit the inside of your mouth.

“Sunday?”

“No, the whole package, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!” he explained excitedly.

“It will be fun, c’mon,” Lewis tried.

“You have school on Friday.” You reasoned, but Ayiden was quick to explain that Friday wouldn’t be until 6 pm. “You’re the one asking Kali to get my appointments from Saturday,” pointing a finger to your brother you accepted, knowing that your friend and coworker, had a space on Saturday for a hair or two and wouldn’t mind covering so your clients wouldn’t be hanging out to dry. Still, she would probably huff and yapp before accepting. That was something that Ayiden would now deal with though, so you were all good.

Ayiden jumped up and down the same way he did when he was ten years old asking you to get him a new pair of soccer jerseys, and you accepted. It was endearing.

You talked for a few more minutes, Ayiden got his picture, and just like that Lewis was saying his farewells. This time he didn’t shake your hands, rather hugged you and you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent and relish his warmth.

“See you on Friday, guys,” he waved, showing off his perfect set of teeth.

“See you, man!”

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton, youngdee, and others

yourinstagram had to drive the kiddo to school today or else he would stay home choosing his weekend outfits lol (traffic is a bitch btw, so if you can avoid downtown, pls do!)

view all comments

youngdee why would you expose me like that

⤷ yourinstagram I'm your older sister, ofc I'm gonna act like a mom ❤️😘

lewishamilton nice fit, ayideen!

⤷ youngdee thank you, man! 😎

⤷ fan4490 OMG KJSDKGJSKG

charleslechair she looks so cute

⤷ charleslechair scratch that I just went through her pics

⤷ charleslechair she's hot

⤷ charleslechair and super talented

wolffmickey so its confirmed, she's the braider?

schumachinho *on my knees begging* pls, do my hair too, yn, pls pls 🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️

yourfriend I spent an hour on traffic today in a road that usually takes me about ten minutes 🫠

yourfriend2 bruh, ayideen is getting bigger and bigger, I feel OLD 😭

Friday rolled around quickly and you got to watch the total amount of fifteen minutes of practice 1 before all hell broke. Ayiden explained everything to you along with the whole controversy going on with the LA Gran Prix, which you were just a tad aware of. Lewis wasn’t able to spend much time with you guys that much was expected, but whenever he found a few seconds he would pass by, ask if you guys were ok, if Dee was having fun if there was something he could do, and just overall being the goofy Lewis he was during the appointment. Ayiden seemed to find the flirtatious glances and lines funny, and so did you, except this time it felt a little more real because you were sure a few people around overheard some.

It was an amazing night, you made friends with a couple of people from the crew, and Ayiden had the time of his life meeting a few other idols, and almost started hyperventilating when Hamilton told him he would take him to meet Charles Leclerc on Sunday.

Saturday was even more of a rush, you almost didn’t see Lewis, but he texted before and after quali. So when Sunday came you were still trying to navigate the whole paddock thing, but a bit more comfortable about it. Aiyden was still acting as if it was his own version of Disney land and it was his first day discovering the adventure world. You were loving it for him, of course.

“Nice outfit,” Lewis whispers right beside you, catching you off guard and making you jump in surprise. You were in a corner, just texting a friend, and checking your next few appointments while Ayiden went to meet Charles and you thought Lewis would be there until he came back, but it wasn’t the case.

“You’re sneaky,” you chuckled, straightening your instance and looking into his face only to notice he was already staring at you.

“You look cute when you’re focused,” he winks, before adding, “and when you’re scared too.”

“You look cute when you joke like this,” throwing back at him you didn’t expect for his brows to furrow in confusion.

“You think I’m joking?”

“Aren’t you?”

Lewis giggles. He giggles and you can’t help but smile with the sound and the way his lips part while his eyes squint. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?!”

“I think you’re pretty and smart, and talented. I was genuinely flirting with you,” his explanation makes your insides turn in giddiness, and as if it wasn’t enough Lewis smiles, eyes glued on yours before he asks: “Wanna go on a date with me?”

“A date?” You repeat trying to let the idea sink.

“A date?” This time it’s Ayiden’s voice and you turn alarmed, expecting to see a confused and jealous brother, only to find him with the biggest grin ever.

“Yeah, a date,” Lewis smiles briefly to Ayiden, before staring back at you, waiting for your answer.

You blink still unsure. Fair enough, he was hot, educated, smart, and he checked all the boxes, but that wasn’t any guarantee of a successful relationship, or fling, or whatever he had in mind. And also, his lifestyle wasn’t something you were used to. How would dating him work when he’s often traveling around to drive?

“C’mon, don’t overthink it, Yn.” Ayiden comes to help, standing beside Lewis and the Brit chuckles. “It’s THE SIR Lewis Hamilton,” he points, and this time Lewis laughs.

You bit your lips, not helping but letting a smile escape.

Lewis is in front of you, hands in his pockets, big brown eyes watching you, and the smallest smile gracing the corner of his plump lips. He looked great. And as much as you wanted to deny, there was a vibe going on.

You take a deep breath, smirking at him, “Get yourself a podium and we’ll talk about a date later.”

Ayiden’s eyes widened.

“Did you forget how quali went?! It’s gonna be hell to get a podium, almost impossible,” your brother tries to reason, but Lewis shakes his head, extending his hand to which you clasp in yours.

“Deal,” the driver smiles. “I’ll get you a podium.”

Lewis squeezes Ayiden’s shoulder and winks at you before disappearing into the garage to get ready for the race.

“One more reason why he’s the goat, see? If I were you I would go on a date with him even if he didn’t get a podium.”

You laugh, “For the few things I saw, he likes the challenge. Let me indulge him.”

“You’re crazy.”

“And he’ll get a podium.”

“It’s very unlikely, but I won’t deny the possibility. It’s Lewis after all.” Your brother leans on the wall beside you. “And it looks like he wants this date bad.”

“What makes you think this?”

“C’mon, he’s been flirting with you nonstop since the hair appointment.”

“I genuinely thought he was joking.”

“You can be so clueless sometimes,” your brother rolls his eyes playfully and you slap the back of his head.

“Watch it, young man, I’m still the oldest.”

And you were still right too, because hours later Lewis impressed everyone by getting third place. He kept everyone on the edge of their seats along with Charles who did a brilliant race, and just like that your brother was grinning devilishly your way because now you had a date with no one other than Lewis Hamilton who happened to walk into the garage just as you were handling a water bottle to Dee after he ran to watch the ceremony as if his life depended on it.

Lewis was smiling brightly at you, sweat mixed with champagne, but you couldn’t help but grin right back and lace your arms around him, taking him by surprise.

“I’m all sweaty, sorry,” he whispers, his tattooed hand flatting on your bag and bringing your body closer.

“It’s fine. Congrats on the race.”

“Congrats on the race, man!” Ayiden hugs him too and Lewis smiles, eyes still trapped on you. When your brother lets him go and stays rooted in place looking from you to Lewis you trap the laugh inside, and roll your eyes fakely, pointing for the young boy to give you both some privacy.

“So, looks like I scored myself a date, huh?”

You nod, taking a small step in his direction and trying to keep your hands from tracing all the small details on his face from this up close, “You sure did.” Your eyes were now on his lips, and Lewis grinned.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already have a date, what else do you wanna ask me?” You’re teasing and he knows it because this time he’s the one to take a step in your direction. The tips of your shoes are touching, and you can hear the rustling outside, but it’s just you two in the corridor, and you hope it stays like this for just a little longer even though you knew he had an interview in a few minutes. His company and attention are something you enjoyed having.

“With how many dates do you find it ok to kiss someone?” His playful tone is there, but his expression makes your knees almost buck. “Can we count practice, quali, and the race as dates?”

And just like that he has you laughing and grabbing his neck to close the distance and smash your lips in a very much-awaited kiss.

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, lewishamilton, and others

yoursername best date night ever 🤍

comments on this post have been disabled

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @scorpiobleue @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @soph1644 @leclercsluv @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

#lh44 #millie writes #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fandom #formula one imagine #black!reader #f1 fic #formula 1 x you

661 notes · View notes

stsg420 · 3 months

Text

stsg420’s fanfic recs!!! (on-going)

—————

SMUTTY CONTENT WILL LOOK LIKE THIS

—————

STSG

Knife-Edged Butterfly -> I rated this: 20/10

• suguru is a sexy girl-dad stripper. satoru is a “retired” assassin/special agent who loves chicken wings & annoying nanami (crazy!!!!) mahito is a deranged bitch trying to kill everyone. but holy fucking shit???? this was so amazing and the fluff was probably the most well-written and comforting fluff I've ever encountered on the internet. I can’t even explain how articulate and amazing the writing and characterizations in this fic are. This is my #1.

Coanda Effect -> I rated this: 11/10

• formula one au. I’m sure y’all have seen it everywhere. there’s a reason for that. this fic right here has the potential to be my favorite stsg fic EVER written. the writing. the depth. the character progression. the intertwining plots. the relationships. the drama. oh my fucking god. I could go onnnnn and onnnn. there’s not too much smut but it’s perfect. absolutely perfect. go binge read RIGHT NOW ITS ALMOST FINISHED!!!!

There you are -> I rated this: 9.9/10

• set during the 10 years after geto defects. they meet up, because of course they do. they fuck each other and love each other and leave each other like always. it’s sad and hot and angry and bitter and so so so canon. the diction and writing style perfectly encapsulates their relationship. nurse!geto makes an appearance :)))))) do not read if you’re having a particularly sad stsg night (speaking from experience)

—————

GETO

Washing hair and the quiet acceptance of being loved -> I rated this: 10/10

• this fic right here. the ultimate comfort geto fic (until mine is released🫡). I’m telling you this makes everything feel better. just 1k+ words of the fmc taking care of geto. because he is a princess and the loml and deserves nothing but the best care and treatment.

Ausländer -> I rated this: 9.9/10

• outlaw!geto, officer!gojo, and a badass fmc. she literally builds/runs her own town. this is a geto/fmc fic but there is unresolved tension with stsg. let me tell you, this is a work of ART. a MASTERPIECE. I wish I could get this tattooed on my brain. the fmc is soooo well written and has amazing depth. this is some delicious wild wild west type shit. lots of guns and saloons and chases on horses!!!! fucking incredible. I strongly urge you to read this.

Spin the Bottle -> I rated this: 9.8/10

• y’all already know. college au where suguru is your best friend, has the fattest crush on you & needs just a litttttlee bit of liquid courage to cross the line. it’s fantastic. it’s scrumptious. it’s indulging. it’s cover girl. I reread this twice a month. not joking. this is college suguru to his core and you can’t change my mind.

105 notes · View notes

jesterwriting · 11 months

Note

jesterrr!!! my lovey dovey!! congrats on 200 !!

for the event, i was thinking perhaps ace + cowboy casanova would be a good match… heheh 🤠 no specifics in mind; do whatever you’d like!

i hope you have tons of fun with this event! ♥️

pairings: cowboy!ace x gn!reader

word count: 2.4k words

contents: cowboy ace, saloon worker reader, riding under the stars, fluff, flirting, ace is a sweetheart, first kiss, ace has a southern accent and so do you, nicknames used: sugar, sweetheart, darlin’

note: HAAAAIII LIV THANK YOU SO MUCH <33 i had so much fun with this request. i didnt know how badly i needed ace with a southern accent before i started writing this but zoo wee mama…. hes so…. hehe. i hope you enjoy reading this! <33 thank you so much for the request :3

playlist: cowboy casanova - carrie underwood

“He’s a good time Cowboy Casanova, leanin’ up against the record machine.”

done for the 200 followers event!!

The sun was down and the saloon was full. Your feet ached in your boots as you carried another round of drinks to a nearby table, offering a sweet smile and a nod to the folks sitting around it. The night was young, and you were already exhausted with the sudden influx of guests. You didn’t know why your dingy little town was so busy, considering it didn’t have much besides a ranch or two to its name, but it was flooded nonetheless.

Whiskey flowed like water here. You were nothing but a provider to the poor parched souls who wound up on your doorstep.

It had been a year since you started working at Dusty’s Saloon, aptly named for the dust that usually settled itself along the bar, and not once had it ever been so hectic. Of course, there was a fight every so often. You couldn’t mix men and beer without one brewing at least once a week. This, though? This was brand new. You caught sight of a few folks brandishing an emblem you didn’t recognize, either around their necks, on their belt buckle, or most surprisingly, tattooed on their body. Delia, your more privy coworker, would probably know what it meant. You would ask her if you had a second to yourself, but considering how the night was going, you doubted you would be able to.

“And here you are.” You set your final two tankards down on a table, meeting their thankful grins with one of your own, before you settled behind the bar. There was a short lull in your workload. Your boss was busy in the back, likely smoking, and you took the opportunity to take a short breather without one of his sharp reprimands.

If you got time to lean, you got time to clean, he’d say. If you ever heard that bullshit again, you’d show him what for, you swore on it. With a sigh, you started cleaning one of the glasses.

“Now, what’s got a pretty young thing like you lookin’ so down?”

You jumped, nearly dropping the rag you were working with. There, leaning against the counter, stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. His hair was black, deep black. The kind that looked inky under the light, styled short in the front and long in the back. He wore a tasseled vest, the musculature of his arms on display for all to see. You must have been staring because he flexed a little, his biceps bulging. When your eyes found his face, you were stunned by the constellations of freckles scattered across his cheeks and the friendly smile that adorned his lips.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He cocked his head to the side.

It was embarrassing that you were so easy to read. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes and gestured to the spirits behind you. “What’ll you have?”

“Don’t be like that, sugar, I was only sayin’ hi.” The man put his hands up in fake surrender, a playful gleam in his eyes. The spurs of his boots jingled when he readjusted himself against the bar.

“If you were just sayin’ hi, you’d be gone already.” You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. He was cute and he knew it, that was the most dangerous kind of man. Lucky for him, you didn’t mind a little danger.

He ignored you and tipped the brim of his hat. “Name’s Ace.” When he was met with silence and crossed arms, he continued, “Normally, this is where you give me your name.”

“Well, you ain’t gettin’ it.”

Eyes still sparkling, Ace grinned. “Well, fair’s fair. I tried. Have a good night. Come find me if you change your mind, alright, sugar?”

“I won’t,” You called back, knowing it was a lie. He must’ve known too, because he shot you a wink before settling at a far table to sip on his drink. Cocky bastard.

It wasn’t until you started cleaning a glass did you realize a smile had split your face right in two. You felt your face warm. Too easy to read, indeed. Ace probably knew you were putty in his hands from the first hello.

You heard a whisper of your voice from the backroom. Delia was looking at you from the crack in the door, hurriedly gesturing you over. Fond, you rolled your eyes and tucked your rag into your belt loop.

“”What d’ya need, Delia?”

Before you could blink, she pulled you into the room by your lapels. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight in the back, and another second to register that your friend was looking at you with a mix of fear and disbelief.

“What do you think you’re doin’ talkin’ to Fire Fist Ace?” Delia whisper-yelled.

You blinked a few times before gently unclenching her fingers from your jacket. “Fire Fist who? Honey, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Grabbing the back of your head, she focused your attention on the man who was pestering you at the bar. He had fallen asleep in his chair. A smile wormed its way onto your face at the sight.

“Him! Fire Fist Ace, one of Whitebeard’s boys. You don’t mess around with one of his,” She exclaimed.

“Whitebeard’s boys? I thought they were two towns over.”

“No, dummy, they’re right here in our town stirrin’ up all sorts of nonsense.” Delia turned you by your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye. “Listen to me now, Y/N, you don’t mess around with Fire Fist Ace. Girls, boys, anyone, he’ll go for ‘em all and he’ll use you and leave you out to dry. That’s what I hear.”

“Yeah, well you hear all sorts of stuff. Not all of it’s true.”

You tried not to flinch when Delia gasped so loud, a few heads turned in your direction. “Do not tell me you’re thinkin’ of foolin’ around with that boy.”

With a sheepish grin, you ducked out of her hold and spun back out to the bar. “No promises, Delia.”

Ignoring her scandalized expression, you found yourself waiting tables again. When you found yourself near Ace’s table, you set a cup of fine whiskey at his side. The chilled glass met his skin, waking him with a start.

“Oh, it’s just you, sugar,” He drawled. Ace looked down at the whiskey, smile still in place. “I didn’t order this.”

“The name’s Y/N, and it’s on the house.”

His index finger trailed circles along the rim of the glass as he stared up at you. “Pretty name for a pretty little thing like you. I like it.”

You snickered, “Didn’t ask if you liked it, though I can’t say I’m not flattered”

“Why don’t you come ridin’ with me tonight?” A few of the men at nearby tables snorted and you were reminded of his reputation. Did you really want to get involved with someone who’d only break your heart? To your surprise, the answer felt obvious. You cocked your hip to the side and gave him a smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, cowboy.”

The grin that bloomed across his face was boyish and sweet. “Darlin’, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

—

It was late by the time you finished cleaning up. The crowd had left, likely back to Whitebeard’s camp, wherever that was. Delia left an hour ago, but not before giving you a disappointed frown. Fine, she could be disappointed all she wanted. You were ready for the whirlwind romance you’d been denied your whole life. You were young, it was time to take a chance, and if that chance was on a cowboy you met a few hours ago, so be it.

Said cowboy was asleep in his chair with his hat over his eyes. A bit of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth and onto his vest. Now that the bar wasn’t blocking you from his lower half, you noticed his belt buckle sported the same emblem as the other patrons. He was one of Whitebeard’s boys, that was for sure. A bit of trepidation swirled in your chest, easily snuffed out when you remembered how kind he’d been all night. Here's to hoping your gut was right, and Ace was the gentleman you believed him to be.

You gave him a gentle shake. Ace snorted before cracking an eye open and taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Mornin’, sugar.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” You laughed.

“‘S mornin’ somewhere,'' He slurred, still half-asleep.

Giggling, you poked his cheek. “C’mon, wake up. What about that ride, cowboy?”

That got his attention. Ace perked up like a dog that just heard the word ‘treat.’ His hat was skewed, and he adjusted it with one hand, the other wrapping around your shoulders to lead you out the door. “You’re gonna have the time of your life, sugar, I can promise you that.”

You clenched your fists to keep your nerves at bay. This was so unlike you, going off with a stranger in the dead of night. Ace seemed to notice your anxiety and gave you a squeeze, body warm against your own. It was comforting. You sighed, leaning into his embrace as you approached his horse. It had a beautiful brown coat, the same color as his eyes, and black mane, almost matching his own. Once, Delia had joked that all cowboys resembled their horses. It wasn’t until you were staring at Ace under the starlight did you start to believe something so ridiculous.

You doubted he’d consider it a compliment if you compared him to a horse, so you held your tongue.

His horse whinnied when she saw you. Ace placed a comforting hand on the side of her neck, smoothing out her fur. “Hush, girl. Don’t you worry now, they’re sweet like you.”

You slid next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. “You never know, I could be gettin’ you alone just to kill you.”

Ace snickered, “Wouldn’t be the first, wouldn’t be the last, but you would be the prettiest.”

“Oh, quiet now.” A flush heated your cheeks as you lightly slapped him on the shoulder.

He seemed proud of himself for flustering you. With a practiced ease, Ace hefted himself into the saddle and scooted up so there was room for you. Patting the seat, he gave you a grin. “Need a hand, sugar?”

You had never ridden a horse before, you weren’t above admitting it. Sighing, you took his hand and tried not to think about how easily he lifted you with one arm, even with your foot in the stirrup. Once you were in the saddle, you wrapped your arms around Ace’s waist to steady yourself. He gave your thigh a final pat, then let out a loud yip, and the horse was off.

Without permission, a laugh bubbled out of your throat. You squeezed Ace, anxiety mixing with pure, unadulterated joy as the wind whipped your hair. Stars glittered overhead, the full moon casting the landscape in a silver glow. Ace was warm, and the night air was cold. Unable to stand the chill, you buried your face between his shoulder blades, ignoring the rumble of a chuckle that shook his entire body.

“Havin’ fun back there?” A bit of genuine concern leaked into his tone. “Need me to slow down?”

You wondered if he could feel your body shaking. Not from fear, but from excitement.

“Faster!” You cried.

Ace whooped, “Yeehaw!”

Laughing at the cliche, you felt your stomach drop as his horse picked up speed, dashing out of town and into the plains. The sound of hooves on hard ground echoed in your head. Adrenaline sang in your veins, making you dizzy and desperate for more. The two of you rode like this for a while before the horse slowed to a canter with an easy pull of her reins and a click of Ace’s tongue.

“Where are we?”

Ace looked back, excitement evident on his face. “Took you somewhere special to look at the stars.”

At his words, you looked up to see the entire night sky open in front of you. Countless clusters of stars formed webs, intertwining with one another in a sea of purple and blue. There were no clouds to block the view, it was a perfectly clear night, save for a few wisps here and there. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

Ace slid off the saddle and offered you his hand. “Hey. No peekin’”

“How can I not? It’s beautiful.”

Unlike before when he only pulled you by your arm into the saddle, Ace’s hands gently gripped you by the waist and lifted you with an ease you weren’t expecting. You were no waif, but he was deceptively strong. He looked down at you with soft eyes, smoothing out a few strands of wind blown hair with his palm.

“You’re beautiful, sugar.”

“Why do you keep calling me that if you know my name?”

His eyes flickered to your lips. “‘Cause you’re sweet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been mouthy all damn night.”

“A man can dream.”

With that, he kissed you, lips pressed softly against yours. He tasted like whiskey and he smelled like a hearth. Cozy and warm, like home. To your surprise, the kiss was chaste, over almost as soon as it began. Ace’s cheeks were bright red when he looked down at you.

“I heard you were a real casanova, surely you can kiss better than that,” You teased the already flustered man.

Ace’s blush darkened. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Around.”

He snickered at your non-answer. “Every cowboy’s got a reputation for rollin’ around in the hay. Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you’ve been bein’ honest with me all night, but I suppose it’s better late than never.”

Leaning down until his breath ghosted across your cheek, he whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

You smirked and pulled him closer until the two of you were nose to nose. “I think now’s as good a time as ever to get some practice in.”

“And the next night, and the next night,” Ace asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“And the night after that,” You said, bringing him in for a kiss.

#one piece x reader #portgas ace x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x y/n #.jesterwrites

207 notes · View notes

klaprisun · 5 months

Text

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley) (Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 4

The next morning, the sun starts to gently beam through the curtain-less windows. It was enough to wake me up from my deep sleep. Yesterday wore me out so good that I was able to go straight home from the saloon and fall right to sleep.

I get out of bed and do some morning stretches. Regardless of me going to the gym here and there, my muscles ache pretty bad. I look at my phone to see what time it is. It is about the only thing it's good for in this town.

"6 am?!" I shout.

I have never been up so early on my own. When I have to get up at this time, I usually have to set an alarm.

I reach into my bag to throw on the same set of overalls but a different shirt underneath. This time, it's a dark blue, plaid, long sleeve. I got to the bathroom and splash water on my face. I twist my hair into a loose braid once again, then head out to start working in the field. I make sure to grab the axe on my way out.

I start chopping away all the stray trees scattered in the field. Only the ones that will be in my way once I start planting seeds.

It wasn't long until I was interrupted by an unfamiliar, friendly voice, "Howdy, Mayor Lewis told me you arrived yesterday. I'm Marnie!"

When I turn around, I find a short, plump, older lady approaching me. Braids must be the style here because she is also rocking one.

"Hi Marnie! My name's Danny" I put down my axe to extend my hand out to her. She shakes it firmly.

"I sell livestock and animal care products at my ranch just down that path," Marnie turns to point, "You should swing by sometime. That is, once you get an area set up to put livestock. I'd also be happy if you happen to swing by just because, too."

I give her a friendly smile and nod my head, "Of course! I will try to stop by whenever I pass by."

Marnie returns the smile. "Anyways, If you ever need anything you know where I'm at! I'll let you get back to what you're doing. You seem to have a lot on your hands with this farm," She says as she begins her journey back down the path.

I go back to chopping the trees and clearing up more of the field to the best of my ability.

🌻 🌻 🌻

Unfortunately, chopping down the rest of the trees turned into a two day job. I didn't even leave the farm those two days. I got so wrapped up in clearing this place up. All I've been eating were the snacks I brought from home.

Those two days were short ones though because I kept going to bed pretty early. Removing the stumps of the trees was a pain. Chopping was the easy part.

However, today I decided I am going to Pierre's to get some groceries and since I finally have the place to my liking, I can get those seeds now. I never did end up doing them Monday.

When I pass by Harvey's clinic and look through the window. Seems pretty empty in there except for one guy with a fantastic mustache and glasses. I assume that'd be Harvey.

I stop to look at the bulletin board that's on Pierre's shop. I look at the calendar with everyone's birthdays on one side, and at the "Help Wanted" side. There doesn't seem to be anything posted there yet.

After continuing the rest of the way to the door of Pierre's store. I grab the handle and yank it. It doesn't open.

"Huh? That's weird. Maybe it's a push door?" I say to myself as I try pushing on the door. It doesn't budge.

I take a step back and scratch my head. I look at all the papers taped to the glass door and finally at the sign on the wall next to the door:

Monday: 9 am - 5 am

Tuesday: 9 am - 5 am

Closed on Wednesdays

Thursday: 9 am- 5 am

Friday: 9 am - 5 am

Saturday: 9 am- 5 am

Sunday: 9 am - 5 am

"Wait, what's today?" I look back at the calendar on the bulletin board.

"Of course it's Wednesday. When I actually need to get something it's closed."

Once, again I take a step back from the store and turn to look around at the town. I decide to go around the corner and up the stone steps. I turn left and I pass by the building Mayor Lewis told me was the Community Centre. I keep walking and find myself standing on one side of a water fountain. It's a pretty big one but I can just make out a playground located a few feet behind it.

I stand around the fountain and admire it for a bit. I stick my hand in the water and swish it around. Suddenly I find myself with both hands playing in the water. I get a little carried away until a familiar voice chimes in from the other side of the fountain

"What do you think you're doing?"

I quickly yank my hands back and out of the fountain. The person poked their head around the center of the fountain so I could see them. Out of everyone who could have caught me doing that it had to be Haley.

"I don't know... The water felt really nice on my hands. They've been pretty beat up the last few days," I hold my hands back out in front of me. I angled them downward so she could see how red and calloused they are. Not that she would care. I notice her face scrunch up in disgust. "I guess I just got carried away. What are you doing here?" I ask her.

"Not that it matters to you, but I tend to come here to think," she looks away from me and turns toward the town, "It's also a great spot to look over at the town and watch everyone go about their day."

Her expression seemed to softened as she looks towards the town.

"And what does a pretty girl like you have to think about?" I question her. I scoot a bit closer to where she is sitting on the edge of the fountain. She is definitely in a vulnerable mood so I decided to try and ease the tension between us.

From where I am sitting, it looked like her face went bright red. It could just be the lighting though. Or maybe I imagined it.

She quickly tucked her beautiful, blonde hair behind her ears and looked towards the other way. Within seconds, she looks back with a scowl and clears her throat to speak.

"It doesn't matter what I think about. I just think, okay?" She abruptly stands and hurriedly walks to the steps that go down the other side of the buildings. Near the path to get to my farm.

I nod my head and look down at my boot I guess I've been dragging around in the dirt the whole time. Suddenly, two little kids run past me with Penny lagging behind. The two kids stop dead in their tracks when they notice I am there.

"Oh, a stranger! My name's Vincent. Momma says not to talk to strangers," The boy in the striped t-shirt says, "but you seem okay."

"...Hi..." Whispers the girl in the purple dress with a cute bow on her head.

"That's Jas. She is a shy one. Until she gets to know you of course," Penny explains when she finally catches up to the kids. "We don't have a school here but I'm doing my best to give and a proper education. They are just super energetic today and won't sit still."

The kids start giggling and take off once again. Penny huffs and continues chasing after them.

I then decide it's about time to go back to the farm. The sun has begun to set, and it is starting to get dark. I notice time really flies in Pelican Town.

#sdv #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #stardew #stardew fanfic #stardew valley haley #stardew valley haley fanfic #haley fanfic #sdv haley fanfic #sdv haley #stardew haley #haley stardew #haley x female farmer #haley x farmer #wlw #sapphic #lgbtq

28 notes · View notes

wheels-of-despair · 5 months

Text

Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

In This Edition: You arrive on the Titanic and make some new friends! Words: 2.3k

You did a lot of living over the next few months.

You and your aunt had become inseparable. You visited landmarks and museums, shopped in the best shops and slept on the most comfortable mattresses, ate the most scrumptious food and drank life-altering wine. You told her things you'd never told anyone.

Most ladies had to travel with maids in tow, for assisting with womanly things like corsets and hair styling, but you and your aunt made do with just the two of you. You wished on more than one occasion that she'd been your mother. But if she had been, this trip might not have happened. And it truly was the adventure of a lifetime that she'd promised you.

However, you were on the final leg of it. You were homeward bound, and would soon have to face the reality of your mother and the fiancé you'd practically begged to allow you to go on this trip.

But not for another week.

You had one more week to figure out your entire life… or set it aside and allow yourself to enjoy the largest and most luxurious ocean liner to ever set sail: The RMS Titanic.

You and Aunt Molly ended a wonderful stay in Paris by boarding a train bound for Cherbourg. You stared out the window and silently watched France pass you by while pondering your future. Would you ever make it back here again?

When you arrived at the harbor, you boarded a small vessel that would ferry you to the massive ship you had yet to set eyes on - for she had encountered a delay of some sort and was late to arrive - and waited on it for nearly an hour before the ship finally came into view.

You could hardly believe your eyes. How could something so massive stay afloat? It seemed to defy the laws of physics. And unsinkable? Perhaps the laws of God, too. The thought was intimidating, but the excitement of the other passengers waiting to board her was infectious. This was going to be amazing. An experience you'd remember for a lifetime. You couldn't wait to see what she looked like inside.

Until you arrived at the narrow gangway that led from your tiny toy-sized boat to an open door in the biggest hunk of iron that had ever managed to float.

"Just don't look down, miss," a smiling member of the crew had told you as he reached out to help you step onto the plank. Just like the pirate stories, you thought to yourself. You gulped and bravely walked forward through your panic, trying to ignore the choppy sea in the harbor below.

You made it across, as did Aunt Molly, and a steward escorted you to your cabin. The room was much smaller than the hotels you'd been staying in, but it was cute and the beds were comfortable. There were two beds, a sofa, a writing desk, and a washbasin. The ladies' lavatory was just down the hall. What more could a girl want?

After all of today's traveling, you had half a mind to just fall into your brand new bed and sleep 'til morning, but your aunt wouldn't hear of it. "You can sleep when you get home!" she'd argued, shoving you in the direction of the lavatory to freshen up.

Titanic's arrival in Cherbourg had been behind schedule, so you didn't have time to change for dinner. You'd been wearing coats when you arrived, and hadn't seen anyone on this ship before, so you didn't think anyone would know the difference. Not changing before dinner felt almost scandalous, like keeping a secret or getting away with something wicked.

You'd made it to the dining saloon just in time. You and your aunt were seated at a table with a few other people you'd never met. Molly was quite the conversationalist, so you let her steer it while you focused on the food. Each course was better than the last, and by the time dessert was served, you were grateful to your aunt for thwarting your attempt to crawl into bed and sleep the evening away.

You surveyed the room after the plates had disappeared from the table and found that the men were retreating to the smoking room, and a flock of young ladies were exiting through the main door.

"Why don't you go join the other young folks?" your aunt asked, as if she could read your mind. "You've been keeping an old lady company for ages, you ought to spend some time with people your own age."

"Actually, I thought I might just go--" She cut you off with a look, knowing you were going to try and weasel out of social interaction.

"My niece went to meet some of the other young ladies in the lounge on A-Deck," a woman in a green dress at the next table supplied helpfully. "I'm sure they'd love to have you!"

Molly stared you down.

"Thank you, that sounds lovely." You forced a smile and stood, discarding your napkin and discreetly inspecting your dress for crumbs. You exited the dining saloon and started your ascent up the grand staircase. Slowly. You wanted to soak in all the exquisite details. Not because you'd rather go to bed than talk to people.

As you neared your destination, a young woman in a slinky dress and a lot of jewelry chatting on the stairs in front of you laughed loudly and turned… but her long dress caught beneath her heel, and she slipped. She shrieked and flailed wildly, and you instinctively reached out to catch her.

Mercifully, when she fell backward into you, your backside collided with the banister and stabilized you, rather than sending you both tumbling down the stairs. You helped her stand again, then glanced down the stairs with a breath of relief. It was a long way down.

"Are you alright?" you asked.

"I told that damned seamstress that the hem was too long!" she complained in a posh British accent, angrily jerking her dress up past her ankles. The friend she'd been talking to reached out to straighten her necklace. When the girl finally looked down at you from the step above, she asked, "Who are you? Why haven't I seen you before?"

You introduced yourself and explained that you'd just gotten on at Cherbourg.

"Are you looking for a bit of romance on your trip?" the girl winked.

"No," you smiled.

"Oh?" she pouted. "Why not?"

"I'm engaged," you admitted, a bit reluctantly.

The two women looked you up and down, making you feel like you were back in school and had offended the popular girls somehow.

"Come to the lounge with us," the flaily one said, turning without waiting for an acceptance. You hesitated, but followed the pair. That's where you were going anyway, after all. As you entered the lounge, you realized that they hadn't told you their names.

The girls led you to a circle of other young ladies, all stunningly beautiful and looking as though they'd stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. They'd lugged - or had stewards lug - a ring of chairs around a tiny table.

"Darlings! I've just a had a near-death experience! Meet my savior!"

Your flaily friend introduced you and dramatically dropped into a chair. Her friend took a seat too, and patted the seat next to her. You joined the circle, albeit cautiously. This could never happen at home.

You weren't the richest, or the prettiest, or the funniest. Once upon a time, you'd had opinions, and questions, and thoughts of your own… things that a girl of your age was not supposed to have. After years of being silenced, ignored, and excluded, you'd finally just stopped trying. But perhaps it might be fun to try and blend in for a while? It's not like you'd ever see these girls again after the ship docked.

You sat there and observed as the girls talked amongst themselves. They all seemed quite intent on watching the women filing into the room. Some of them stopped at the door and spoke to a girl in a purple dress who looked to be signing them up for something in her notebook. After a while, she came to your circle.

"Alright, Victoria, we're all sorted," she said conspirationally to the flaily one. You made a mental note of her name. The girls started scanning the room, and not knowing what else to do, you copied them.

"What are we sorted for?" you whispered to the girl next to you, when you couldn't stand the suspense anymore.

"See the boy in that god-awful gold jacket?" You quickly locate him, sipping something bubbly at a table on the other side of the room. His leg jiggled on the floor, and he dribbled a little of his drink down his chin and tried to quickly wipe it away. "That's Victoria's brother, Ralph. He's been irritating her since they left for Southhampton, and she's had enough. So she's made a game out of keeping him busy."

"What kind of game?" you ask quietly.

"A fun one, for us!" Victoria grins from a few chairs away. You hadn't realized she'd been listening. "We've signed on a herd of slags, and if they can't keep him busy, I may have to throw him overboard!"

The girls around you laugh, and you smile awkwardly. Had she not been trying to recruit you to the herd of slags just a few minutes ago? After you'd saved her from falling down the stairs?

Music begins to play in the lounge, and the occupants of several distant tables rise at once. You jerk your head in their direction in surprise, and watch the girls descend on the boy in the gold jacket. He goes red, but seems to enjoy the attention. A man, being asked to dance by a flock of first-class women? He must be in Heaven.

"Alright, that should keep him - and them - occupied for the rest of the night. Alright, place your bets!"

The girl with the notebook turns to a fresh page, readies her pen, and looks up expectantly. The circle starts speaking all at once:

"Blue dress and dumpy bum!"

"Mole Girl!"

"The one in her grandmother's clothes!"

"Frizzy hair and big nose!"

"The one who looks… she's not actually pregnant, is she?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Her, then."

"The one wearing the curtains from her stateroom!"

"Even Ralph would say no to a ginger, wouldn't he?"

All the girls snicker, and you feel like you've missed something.

"Alright, who's your pick?" the girl with the notebook asks, pen poised.

"It's alright," you smile, trying to wave her off.

"You have to pick someone!" Victoria insists.

"What are we betting on?"

"The last girl to dance with Ralph has to go down below and kiss someone from steerage," Victoria says, like you've been part of this group for more than a few minutes. "If you pick the loser, you get to pick a peasant for her to snog tomorrow!" Laughter erupts from the table, and although part of you feels like you've made a huge mistake… you scan the contenders and utter, "pink frilly dress."

Your racehorse is recorded, and Victoria snaps her fingers to get the attention of a steward. "Drinks!" she demands.

This isn't generally the kind of thing you enjoy, but this whole trip has been about experiencing new things. Why shouldn't you finally connect with people your own age? This is what they do for fun. This is how normal young people spend time; drinking and laughing and dancing the night away. (The constant flow of flavored liqueurs helps considerably.)

Still, something didn't feel quite right. But you pushed the feelings aside and listened to stories about humiliating mothers and annoying brothers and the best places to shop for lingerie. When the conversation became dull, you found your eyes wandering. There were so many details in this room to take in. So many fascinating people sharing this amazing journey across the Atlantic with you.

Victoria's brother had a new partner for every dance. The girls playing the game surrounded him after each song ended, hoping to be next, and he appeared to be having the time of his life. He laughed and smiled and treated each girl as if she were the only one in the room. You almost envied them.

Georgina - the girl with the notebook - had matched the bets with the names of the girls participating, and was checking them off as they danced with him. The last girl from the list to dance with Ralph was a blonde girl with a codename of Curtains, on account of the strange pattern on her dress. Georgina announced the loser as she circled the name, and the table erupted into laughter once more. She'd been Jane's pick, who was delighted.

The poor boy, who had had been dancing nonstop for hours, finally got to take a breather when Curtains returned to her table. He guzzled a drink and sat alone at a table looking exhausted. It's not easy being rich and desirable, you suppose.

By the time he'd caught his breath, it was nearly eleven o'clock, and the lounge was closing for the night. You said goodnight to your new friends, found your way back to your room - miraculously, without having to ask a steward for directions - and smiled as you went inside your cabin and began preparing for bed.

#writings of despair #ralphtanic #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters

23 notes · View notes

hikarry · 9 months

Text

You know what would be gorgeous?

Reign of Louis XIV of France

Crowley is assigned to mess with the French nobles and cause a little trouble so he infiltrates the French court as Monsieur Crowley, a high ranking noble nobody remembers but everyone knows whom is lowkey besties with Prince Philip (because he likes his style, mainly. Queers must stick together innit) and, by result, easily slythers his way to the King's ear if needed

We are in Versailles

King Louis is putting on a performance like he is known for doing and everyone is watching when a strike of blonde white hair catches Crowley's attention. It's so fast he doesn't have time to process it properly but he excuses himself all the same to try and investigate, yet he finds nothing

Later that week King Louis has one of his parties in the gardens of Versailles. A masquerade party, as he is a big fan of

Crowley is mingling with Prince Phillip, his male lover (forgot his name. Sorry, love. He sucked anyway) and some other nobles when he notices the hair again, somewhere in the middle of the party. The hair is long in a fancy wavy hairdo, they are wearing a long puffy clearly cream noble dress and they appear to be mingling with some of the other noble ladies. The person has they're back turned to him. Besides, he's wearing sunglasses and it's night so it's a bit hard to see but he keeps surreptitiously watching over his wine glass anyway

Some people start to disperss to go to the buffet and his line of sign gets less constricted. That's when the person turns around, their arm interlocked with another lady, and their eyes meet. Even though half her face is covered by a hand fan and the other half by a mask, Crowley would recognize those blue eyes anywhere and he smiles to himself as he watches her walk inside the palace

Logically, Heaven must have sent Aziraphale to twart his plans and by Satan doesn't she look heavenly indeed

When the party officially moves inside and there are already people dancing in the saloon, Crowley sticks to the Prince but he isn't hearing a word of the conversation. Instead he is too busy observing an angel mingling with the other ladies and laughing behind her hand fan like the precious thing she is

Eventually he watches her walk up to the buffet tables by herself and he notices a middle aged man leaving his mingling circle and following her. A man he doesn't particularly like, mind

He observes as they talk, the man slowly invading her personal space, trying to hold her hand, and the angel smiling politely and taking a few steps back

Crowley excuses himself and, before he even hears what Phillip has to say, he slythers behind Aziraphale, who bumps against his chest and startles. Crowley surreptitiously lays a hand on her lower back, helping her regain balance and feels her go tense under his touch

"Monsieur Crowley! Your reputation precedes you! I barely noticed you approaching!" The other man says, giving a slight step back as Crowley feels Aziraphale instantly relax against his touch, somewhat leaning into it

Crowley smiles and takes his hand away

"Monsieur Dubois, I didn't mean to interrupt, but I've been looking for Mademoiselle Fell. We have some business to discuss."

"Ah, yes, of course." The man smiles. "Maybe another chance, mademoiselle?" He gives a slight bow, holding her gloved hand and kissing it before slowly leaving.

Crowley hears Aziraphale taking a deep breath before she turns around, closing her hand fan.

"Fancy dress, angel. Suits you." He smiles, taking a step back to give her some space.

"Thank you, my dear. This is why I don't like to present female. Clearly men don't understand when I say I don't dance. I don't know how you do it."

"I do it because it's fun." He takes a grape from the table and pops it into his mouth. "And I like the dresses. I look really good wearing a corset." Aziraphale rolls her eyes.

"I feel like I can barely breath through mine."

"You get used to it. Beauty hurts, angel. Especially when you are a woman." He looks around. "What are you doing in France anyway? I thought you were still in Florence."

"Gabriel sent me. I'm to inspire some artists and keep an eye on you."

"Aw, you flatter me." Crowley picks up a slice of cake and hands it to Aziraphale. "Cake?"

The angel smiles and gives a little wiggle, taking the plate and the small fork from his hands.

"I haven't tried any sweets yet. Gabriel said I should control myself if I wanted to fit in the dress."

Crowley's hands clench into fists and he takes a second or two to breath.

"Gabriel is a wanker. Dresses were made to fit you, not the other way around." He leans on the table, hiding his hands on his pockets. "Eat as much as you desire, angel. You look stunning."

Aziraphale doesn't answer for a while, just looking at the people dancing.

"Would you like to step out into the balcony, my dear? Some fresh air would probably do us good."

He clears his throat, straightening himself.

"Lead the way."

Do what you will with this. It was supposed just to be a small imagine with fem presenting Aziraphale in a gorgeous gown and Crowley not being able to take his eyes from her but it clearly got out of my hand real quick. Alas, here we are

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #anthony j crowley

42 notes · View notes

hevanderson · 8 months

Text

hi. take some glestern style descriptions. also i must preface by saying this is NOT historically accurate nor is it meant to be. this is based off of vibes alone. thumbs up

quinn: early on, she wears very modest outfits. high collars and skirts that go to the ankles. flat shoes. long sleeves and/or impractical lacy gloves. light colors, particularly blue and white. long hair, either all down or partially up and partially down. cross necklace is always on. classy, expensive looking jewelry, particularly bracelets. later, she wears pants that are clearly second-hand and in relatively poor condition, stolen. big, button up work shirts that are also not in the best shape. the buttons are never fully buttoned. her hair is now short, think her season 3 hair or s2 new york hair. no more cross necklace, and minimal jewelry, if any at all. more durable shoes meant for working. a belt with a holster to carry a gun. carries more practical gloves in the pocket of her pants. darker color schemes with a lot of neutrals. most of her clothes have some visible stress on them

santana: darker colors. a decent mix of tight and loose clothing– usually, her tops are tighter and her bottoms are looser. big fan of shorts and shorter skirts. moveability is a priority for her. likes necklaces, but doesnt own many. the ones she own are from her family and tend to somewhat clash with her outfits but she wears them anyway because she loves her family. ties her hair up when working, high ponytail, no bangs. when shes working with sue's gang, she layers up as best as she can and goes for all loose clothing so its easier to move and sneak around. her hair is tied into a low ponytail to keep it out of her face. at work and in everyday, she wears boots with a mild heel, but when shes on duty for sue she wears discreet flat shoes to avoid making sounds. for the same reason, she also doesnt wear jewelry while working with sue's gang

puck: dark colors. darker blue jeans that have been worn quite a bit. rips in the jeans. black cowboy boots are always on, and are rather simple with no designs in them. shaved head. off duty, he occasionally wears a cowboy hat. he wears button ups that are, of course, never fully (or at all) buttoned. the sleeves to these shirts are often rolled up to his forearms. tattoos on his arm, hand-done of course, random doodles he thinks make him look badass. always has a gun in his belt holster, conveniently placed right in front of his crotch. gross

tina: dark colors strike again, but her outfits have accents of blue. gloves, dyed black leather with the occasional lace. high collared shirts paired with intricate silver necklaces, usually adorned with blue gems. long, ruffled skirts. her outfits between working and day to day dont change much, although she sometimes will wear subtley striped black pants when working. always in heeled boots with looping stitched details in blue thread. her hair is plain back and usually down, but, occasionally when shes working at the saloon, she'll pull it into a low ponytail or braids. wears a black leather crossbody satchel. no guns on her but just in case she does carry around a small knife with a sheath

brittany: finally a break from dark colors. brittany primarily wears whites and lighter colors, particularly blues, pinks, and oranges. a wide collection of white shirts she's customized, either intentionally or unintentionally– grass stains, paint splatters, patterns stitched into her shirts. she keeps it loose. overalls enjoyer, usually wears a blue pair that have doodles and practice stitches all over them. she generally prefers pants and shorts, and usually wears light blue denim. if she does wear a skirt, it is flowy but not long, and must have some form of pattern on it (she likes florals the most). her hair is equally spent down as it is spent up; either, it is everywhere and flowing freely (usually when shes just out and about), but when working on her farm or performing she ties it up into a high ponytail, but leaves her bangs out (think her early s2 bangs). when shes working for sue, she borrows clothes from santana. she also ties her hair into a ponytail and pins it into a large, rather impractical, hat she wears. her gang clothes are dark, both to obscure her identity and to give her more security under darkness

mercedes: glamorous and colorful. the largest parts of her outfits are usually black or dark brown, but anything else is bursting with color. when performing, she wears darker high-low skirts with ruffles in purples, pinks, and reds depending on the costume. more corset-like tops that have ruffles lining the top and spilling over onto the off-the-shoulder sleeves. feathery headbands. gloves that stop at her wrists and are complimented by bejeweled bracelets. tights with some subtle patterns in them in a darker version of what her outfit's accent color is. tall boots that are just a little impractical to walk in. when shes off duty, she still wears skirts, and they range from stopping at her mid-thigh to coming down to her ankles. flat shoes that are comfortable to walk in. she wears the same bracelets, but loses her gloves and headband. her shirts have a similar construction to her performance ones, corest-y and off the shoulder, but when shes just lounging around or creating costumes she wears more relaxed tops– button ups and things like that. no matter what, though, she likes to have a lot of color. her hair, both on and off duty, is most similar to her s1 pilot hairstyle. no weapons, she tries to be a pacifist when she can

sam: light colors, but a bit less soft than brittany's color schemes. cool colors, blues and greens with some greys. his hair is similar to late s2. king of plaid button ups, and he wears them buttoned to the very top bc he takes his job as sheriff seriously. occasionally wears a grey cowboy hat that has his name stitched into the inside of it (courtesy of mercedes). his shirt is always tucked into his blue jeans, which have very faint grass stains and places that look like theyre on the verge of tearing. brown cowboy boots always. if he wants to class his outfit up, and he does abkut 50% of the time, he'll pair his shirt with a brown leather vest and, of course, a bolo tie. he also wears a belt with a medium sized round belt buckle. he has a holster on his belt but rarely has a gun in it because he honestly hates resorting to violence despite his job

#my post #glestern au

40 notes · View notes

panickingpansexuality · 2 years

Text

I Promise

Elliot x GN! Reader

On the warm night of summer, Elliot watched them from across the room, how their hair shines in the light of the Saloon, how their face lit up with laughter and how flushed their cheeks were.

Across the bar Elliot watched (y/n) giggling with Abbigail and they looked like they were having the time of their lives, instead of being happy for them though Elliot wanted nothing more than to be the reason why (y/n) was laughing.

"You know," Leah said beside him. "If you really want them, why not go and ask them out."

Elliot felt his entire body froze.

"I…I couldn't do that, I don't even know if they like me."

"You said the kiss went well."

It did, the kiss was incredible, the best kiss he's ever had in his life, but he wasn't sure if (y/n) felt the same way.

They had hardly spoken since the kiss, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Elliot." Leah said encouragingly, "Go talk to them."

"I will." Elliot insisted, "I just need more time."

"Time to do what?"

"Figure out what to say."

Leah groaned and let her face hit the table.

"You're a writer I'm certain you'll think of something."

"That's the thing though," Elliot said, "This isn't like writing my novel, this is like talking to everything you've ever wanted in a person and they're so perfectly imperfect that you feel like if you mess this up, that you won't recover."

Leah sighed and placed a hand on her best friends' shoulder.

"Well…you may want to think of something soon."

"Why?" Elliot said, feeling the panic soar in him.

He heard the floorboards creek as someone approached their table, Elliot looked up and saw Sam coming towards them.

"Hey uh can you take (y/n) home? I gotta take home Shane and Sebs taking home Abbigail."

"Of course." Elliot said without a second thought.

Ten minutes later the two were by the bus stop on their journey home. Elliot had opted to just carry the farmer bridal style.

Through their drunken haze (y/n) looked up at Elliot and smiled, the stars danced around his head, and the crescent moon made him look like he had half a halo around his head. The fireflies that danced around him only added to the ethereal glow that the night has already given the writer.

"My angel." (Y/n) slurred out.

"Yes my darling?" Elliot said, confident that the farmer wouldn't remember this evening.

"I have to give you..give you..I have flowers for my love."

"Do you now?" Elliot said trying to sound amused when he was feeling like his heart was a breath away from being stabbed.

"Yeah." (Y/n) slurred

"But angel you can't tell him yet."

"I won't." Elliot promised.

"Good cause if Elliot knew before I was gonna give it to him, I'm gonna be so sad."

Elliot stopped dead in his tracks, he looked down at (y/n) smiling,he felt tears well up behind his eyes.

"I won't tell." Elliot promised.

"You promise?"

Elliot chuckled and said: "I promise."

Elliot sat the farmer down on their steps as they made it to their home, fishing the spare key out of the hanging pot of flowers beside the door. Elliot opened the door just as he heard (y/n) started crying.

Elliot ran towards them as (y/n)s cat watched from the doorway, curious as to what happened, but the cat was soon distracted by a chirping cricket that had decided to jump into the porch.

"Hey," he said softly "What's wrong?"

"I think I love him." (Y/n) sobbed.

"Elliot?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah," (y/n) slurred leaning against Elliot, "but he hasn't even looked at me the last two days."

Elliot sucked in a breath through his teeth, he felt bad for this one.

"He feels the same," Elliot said, wrapping a hand around (y/n)s shoulder.

"You promise?" (Y/n) said, looking at Elliot with red eyes.

Elliot smiled and held their hand.

"I promise."

In the morning (y/n) woke up with a glass of water on their bedside and a rose that wasn't there the day before.

#stardew elliott #stardew fanfiction #stardew farmer #stardew valley #elliot x farmer #elliot x reader #sdv elliott #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv elliot #sdv #sdv fanfic #elliot x reader stardew valley #elliot stardew valley #elliot stardew #stardew valley elliot #stardew valley elliott

140 notes · View notes

your-divine-ribs · 4 months

Text

The Christmas Wish Part 4

Words: 2.8k

I intended to also add Van’s POV to this but I wanted to get something posted this weekend so that’ll be next part. Sorry if it’s naff! Hopefully some cute moments coming up in the next part 🤍

The Christmas Wish Masterlist Main Masterlist

🤍 Sacha's POV 🤍

I'm still partially in shock as we all make our way down the corridor and push through the outer school door. I'd been dreading seeing Grace's dad, I was totally expecting the worst from him and I truly thought I'd be desperate to get away after an uncomfortable and awkward meeting. Instead here I am, watching his kids practically dragging him across the car park, excited chatter filling the chilly winter air of Christmas trees and tinsel and fairy lights.

"Are you really sure you don't mind me tagging along?" I say as Van comes to a stop in front of a flashy looking red sports car, fumbling in his jacket pocket for the keys. "I can always pick up the stuff I need for the Christmas wreaths on my way in tomorrow, it's not a problem."

I can't help but feel like I'm intruding on a precious family moment, but Van won't hear any of it. "Why put yourself out when we're heading there right now? We'd love you to come with us wouldn't we kids?"

Cries of "yeah course we do Miss!" and "you gotta help us choose a tree!" burst from the two children and I can't help but grin from ear to ear, buoyed by their obvious excitement.

He opens up the passenger door and shunts the seat forward, urging the kids to clamber into the back. "C'mon you pair, you're gonna have to both get in the back. We can't expect Miss Wilson to squeeze herself in there can we?"

"Err... it's Sacha," I remind him. "We're not in school now. And I don't mind sitting in the back. Not at all."

Even as I'm saying the words I'm filled with doubts as to how I'll be able to manoeuvre myself into the car gracefully without flashing too much leg. It's so low to the ground the suspension's practically scraping the tarmac, the back seat a cramped-looking space that I'd likely have to contort my body into. It's definitely not a practical family vehicle but I suppose what should I expect from a rock-star, even one with children?

"No way, you're up front with me," Van smiles and I feel a little twinge of excitement radiate through me which I try to ignore, turning my attention quickly back to the car.

"It's a really nice car, very fancy!" I enthuse, letting my eyes trail over the sleek contours, the garish fire engine red paintwork standing out starkly amongst the drab coloured family saloons parked on either side.

Van lets his hand trail proudly over the soft-top, almost petting it. "Just picked it up last week, bloody gorgeous ain't it? Bit of a tight squeeze for four though. Wasn't really thinking about the practicalities when I bought it."

"Can we have the top down Daddy?" I hear a little voice come from inside.

"Not in the middle of December, we'll freeze!" Van laughs, sliding the seat forward and ushering me into the passenger seat. I slide into the leather seat self-consciously, holding my skirt tight to my thighs. Van waits until I'm settled before he shuts the door.

I've never been in a car like this before in my life. It's a far cry from my trusty little Fiat 500 that I trundle to school and back in every day. I glance around at the impressive interior, wondering what something like this might cost.

"Can't wait for the summer," Van says as he takes his seat behind the wheel. "Cruising along with the top down, tunes blaring out, the wind in my hair..."

"You'll just be moaning about messing up your hair the whole time!" Grace giggles from the back and I laugh as I see Van sticking out his tongue at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

"Well? It's good hair!" He smirks, making a show of running his hand through it.

"Grandma keeps saying when ya gonna get it cut?" Leo pipes up and Van is quick to reply that Grandma knows nothing about style.

I can't stop grinning hearing Van's easy banter with the kids and I'm beginning to see where Grace gets her outgoing, cheeky nature from. I fasten my seatbelt just as I hear Van firing up the engine which roars into life with a throaty growl.

"Just listen to that," Van murmurs as he revs the accelerator a few times, the delight on his face evident. "Goes 0-60 in about 4 seconds!"

I raise my eyebrows and nod my head, trying to look impressed even though the thought of travelling so fast so quickly frankly terrifies me.

"Can we go fast today... please!" Grace cries. "You're always on about how quick it goes but then you never show us. You always drive so slow-ly."

She drags out the word for effect and Leo makes loud vrooming noises. Van starts to inch the car forward.

"I told you before, I'm not driving fast with you two in the car... precious cargo ain't ya?"

There's booing and grumbling from the back and I turn my head towards Van, surreptitiously sneaking a glance at his handsome profile as he's concentrating on navigating out of the tight parking space.

"I swear if I scratch this paintwork..."

"Mummy says Daddy bought this car 'cause he's having a mid-life crisis...whatever that is!" Grace suddenly announces and I have to bite down hard on my bottom lip to stifle the laugh that nearly bursts free.

Van doesn't look quite so amused, his face scrunching in embarrassment which morphs into an awkward grin as his eyes flick quickly across to me. "Yeah well... mummy says a lot of things," he murmurs, then he drops his voice even lower. "Is Gracie like this in class too?"

"Oh yes," I grin, also talking in hushed tones even though the children clearly aren't listening, chattering away to each other in the back. "If Grace has something to say then she'll just come right out with it, she doesn't hold back."

"Have no idea where she gets it from!" Van chuckles, then he's pulling out of the car park, the momentum of the acceleration of the car pushing me back in my seat even though we're not even travelling that quickly. I'm not into cars at all but even I can't deny there's something kind of hot about the thought of all that power thrumming underneath the bonnet.

Van asks for directions to Harvey's and I start to tell him before we're interrupted by the raised voices of the kids squabbling in the back. I twist around in my seat to see what the altercation is.

"I get to pick this time," Grace demands, pouting sulkily at her brother. "You had your go this morning."

"But it only takes five minutes to get to school. That's only enough time for one song!"

Grace is resolute. "I don't care, those are the rules! You'll only go and put something rubbish on anyway. We don't wanna listen to 'baby shark' again!"

"Ughh had that stuck in my head all morning," Van grumbles, then he reaches into his inside jacket pocket to produce a phone which he holds out to me. "Here ya are, pass that to Gracie will ya? We take it in turns to take control of the music on car trips... unless you want a turn Sacha? Seems only fair you being an honorary guest an' all?"

God, why does the sound of him simply saying my name make me feel all warm and gooey inside?

I take the phone from him, feeling far too shy to reveal my basic music tastes. "Oh no, I'll pass thanks. We don't want Grace to miss her turn do we?"

Grace smiles victoriously and thanks me as she leans forward to take her dad's phone, immediately jabbing at the screen.

"Should be already connected," Van calls to her. "And pick something decent to put on... especially seeing as we've got company."

"I'm on your Spotify account, so you're bound to like it," she replies, and I glance at Van just in time to see that awkward little smile surface again.

"I've got a really wide range of music tastes nowadays. Touring and meeting other musicians really opens up your ears to new stuff. There's all sorts on there. You never know what you might find."

"Any guilty pleasures?" I tease, intrigued as I hear Grace giggling from behind me.

"Me? Nah... I'm not remotely guilty about any of the stuff I listen to..."

And then, as if on some perfectly timed cue, the tinkling opening bars of Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas begin to blare out from the car's speakers. Van's jaw practically unhinges and the giggles I've been suppressing since we first got into the car finally burst free.

"I never would've had you pegged as a Mariah fan!" I laugh as Van splutters, clearly embarrassed.

"I'm not, I swear! She must've clicked on some generic Christmas playlist."

"But Daddy... it's your Christmas playlist," Grace is quick to pipe up. "You picked all these songs yourself. Remember?"

"I swear, every shred of dignity goes out of the window when you have kids," Van mutters, but he's laughing, little creases forming around the corners of his eyes, an adorable tinge of pink lighting up his cheeks. "And you can't have Christmas without Mariah can you?"

"Definitely not!" I laugh along with him, before I'm trying to maintain a mock serious tone. "I mean, I'm not a fan at all but I'd be very disappointed if this particular song wasn't on your hand-picked Christmas playlist."

"Phew... am I off the hook then?" He flashes me a toothy grin, but before I get a chance to answer, two little voices sound out in perfect harmony.

"I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know... make my wish come truuu-uuueee..."

"It's your bit next Daddy!" Cries Leo.

Oh... this just gets better and better. I look across at Van again whose cheeks are getting pinker by the second as he shakes his head. "Err... not now Leo."

"So you can hit Mariah's high notes then can you?" I tease, throughly enjoying watching him squirm.

"You should hear him Miss, he screeches sooooo loud," Grace cuts in and I glance back to see her covering her hands with her ears whilst she winces dramatically.

"Hey... less of the screeching," Van interjects. "I've got the voice of an angel, I'll have you know!"

"Well if it's that good then I think I need to hear it," I say, as both children erupt into chants of "sing Daddy sing!"

"My throat's actually a little sore right now, think I might be coming down with a cold." Van finishes off his sentence with a weak cough and it's quite obvious that he's faking it, but it's also quite obvious that his children aren't backing down from their pleas.

"No you've not... liar!"

"Yeah that's rubbish! And we always sing this song together!"

"Sing Daddy... please!"

"God, they're more demanding than the fans," Van groans but I can see his resolve is being ground down. What I'm not banking on though is his next line as he comes to a stop at a traffic light and looks across at me with a mischievous smirk. "But if I am gonna sing I think it's only fair that Sacha sings too... we're all in this together."

Now it's my turn for my jaw to fall slack, my eyes widening as I protest.

"Oh no I can't... I can't sing at all... I'm tone deaf..."

"No you're not Miss!" Grace blurts out excitedly. "You always sing so prettily in class... and you lead the school choir don't you? You're a good singer!"

I'm visibly cringing much to Van's amusement, the biggest shit-eating grin stretching wide on his lips. "Ahh... it's all coming out now! Look... we're not gonna get them to shut up if we don't do this. We'll never hear the end of it."

"Oh my god I can't believe I'm actually doing this," I mumble, my whole face in flames as I raise up my hands to my cheeks.

Mariah's still warbling away shrilly on the car stereo, and I figure I might not even see Grace's dad again after this so I take a deep breath, looking straight ahead out the car windscreen so I don't have to look directly at him as I start to sing.

"Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas, this is all I'm asking for..."

And to my horror the whole car falls silent to listen to me.

"But you didn't even join in!" I gasp in surprise, but my words are cut short as Van starts to sing.

"Oh, I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come truuuu...uuuee..."

His voice is the perfect mixture of smooth with a throaty rasp that makes me suck in a breath, and he scrunches his eyes shut briefly as he rises up to hit the high note. I'm staring with my mouth agape, I can't help it, and then our eyes meet as he looks right at me to sing the next line.

"Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is youuuuu."

"Youuuuu, ba-by..." Chime in the kids, loud giggles emanating from the back seat that thankfully snap me out of my trance.

Van's smiling widely at me, his face all lit up from within and his eyes sparkling with a youthful exuberance and an errant thought flashes through my head...

Shit... I'm in trouble... I like this guy... I REALLY like him...

But as soon as the thought pops up then it's gone. I'm swept up in the moment, singing along with everyone, hamming it up as we all mimic Mariah's signature high-pitched vocals as the song plays out. I'm having so much fun I completely forget where we are for a moment, and the actual purpose of me being here with Grace and her family. Too late, I see the turning for Harvey's shoot past in a blur out the passenger window.

"Ahhh... you just missed the turning... sorry I got completely distracted," I say, quickly giving Van directions as he indicates for the upcoming roundabout.

"No problem," he replies, navigating the roundabout to bring us quickly to our destination.

"Here we are kids!" He announces as he pulls into a free parking space. "All ready to get this tree then?"

"Can we get a real one rather than a fake one?" Grace calls hopefully. "That's what Alex bought mummy last week. It's huge!"

Van's cheerful demeanour disintegrates instantly at the mention of the name which is unfamiliar to me, and it doesn't take a genius to work out that Alex is likely his ex-wife's new boyfriend. He's obviously still wounded and far from over the breakdown of his marriage and I should be filled with sympathy but instead I feel an unexpected rush of completely misplaced jealousy that I really have no business feeling.

"There's loads of trees here to choose from," I say purposefully brightly, tearing my eyes away from Van to address the kids. "Ellie bought a six foot Norwegian pine here just last week. It looks gorgeous in her living room all decorated up."

"Six foot?" Echoes Leo. "Is that as tall as you Daddy?"

"Uh-huh," Van says as he powers off the ignition, turning around in his seat to face the children. "So how big's this tree of mummy's then kids? Is it as tall as me d'ya think?"

Leo shrugs whilst Grace looks thoughtful. "I dunno... Mummy couldn't reach up to put the star on the top though so Alex had to pick her up to do it... just like you used to do..."

The kids likely don't notice the shadow that flits across Van's features but I notice it, a ripple of emotion on the surface that he admirably recovers rather flawlessly from. He plasters on a smile full of enthusiasm as he leans on the headrest, telling his excited children that the tree they're going to get will be much bigger and better than their mum's, and how they'll take it home with them to decorate up that very evening.

"Umm... Van... errr... sorry to interrupt," I venture cautiously.

I don’t want to ruin the moment, I really don’t, but my practical primary school teacher's brain tends to assess scenarios very quickly, pinpointing and zooming in on probable complications. I wonder if Van's even considered how he's going to fit a majestic seven foot pine into his tiny little sports car to transport it home.

“Yeah?” He whips his head around to face me, eyes bright and eager.

“There might be… ummm …. a little problem... you know... with the logistics of getting a tree that size home in this car. Not sure if you've thought about that."

But it appears that Van already has, a huge grin stretching wide on his face as he reaches forward to pluck his phone from his daughter's hands. "'Course I've already thought of that... that's where Larry comes in!"

#the christmas wish #dad van #van mccann fanfic #van mccann #au fanfic #vanfic

8 notes · View notes

frostycatblr-fandom-files · 6 months

Text

Star Wars Visions (Season 2)

Since these eps are all roughly under 20 minutes I'm just lumping my thoughts under the cut for all of the episodes.

SITH

Art style is nice! (Kinda reminds me of Spider-Verse, which I love.) Color and lines everywhere makes the environment really unique. I want more to Lola's story.

SCREECHER'S REACH

Cartoon Saloon art style I love you and would recognize you anywhere. I'm in the mood to watch Song of the Sea again. Sith Mother had Looks honestly? Beautiful and appropriately unsettling.

IN THE STARS

Favorite episode. Claymation is always impressive to me. A good Imp is a drowned Imp.

Paint powered by starlight is something I wish I thought of for some fantasy stories I've been writing/written in the past, but man, this scene was pretty.

I AM YOUR MOTHER

Might've been my least favorite episode honestly? I'm not sure. The animation was done by Aardman, and apparently they had a Wallace and Gromit cameo in there somewhere, which I missed. I know I just said claymation is always impressive to me, but in my opinion I don't think a lot of the species we know/recognize translated very well in their style.

JOURNEY TO THE DARK HEAD

First time I saw Toul I couldn't help but think "Oh of course you have white hair and trauma." from my anime phase.

Also should have expected that Bichan was gonna be attractive under the Very Extra mask.

THE SPY DANCER

This episode just proves to me that Cirque du Soleil could go crazy in the Star Wars universe.

THE BANDITS OF GOLAK

Clothing design absolutely SLAPS for this episode. Just about everything really - music, atmosphere, ect. My oldest sibling feelings really came into play here though because I just wished Rani would listen to her brother and do as he requested. Charuk's trying to protect you and you're screwing around/attracting unnecessary attention, Rani... Kids are gonna be kids, though.

The lightsaber duel between Ragul and the Inquisitor was stunning. She may be older than the Inq. but she can still kick ass. 💪

THE PIT

The implemented timelapses in this episode were very cool. I had trouble watching the segment were Crux climbs out of the pit because I was so sure it'd end badly and he'd be shown falling to his death and nobody making it out.

And then he's thrown back into the pit by Stormtroopers later on. I was right about that being the way he died, just not right about when.

AAU'S SONG

Aau is precious and I'd die for her.

As these are all non-sequiturs they'll never explain how the Sith managed to bleed all of that kyber in the mountains on Korba but it'd be interesting to find out how. Like that was a lot of corrupted kyber.

#frosts fandom freakouts #star wars #star wars visions #next on my watchlist is Resistance but I don't know that I'll be doing any reactions for that #there's 40 episodes of Resistance vs the 18 of Visions

9 notes · View notes

bambirex · 1 year

Text

It's A Game We Play

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies), crack, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega jaskier, alpha geralt, alpha yennefer, beta radovid, awkwardness, jaskier is a good parent, protective jaskier, weddings, found family, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe-modern setting

Rating: teen and up audiences

Word count: 2,390 words

Chapters: 1/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Author's notes: It's time for some crack!!!!! What do you get when you have canonically slutty Jaskier, and add Bambi being a multishipper who loves chaos? That's right, you get a Mamma Mia!AU !! I'm planning on using the plot of the first movie pretty loosely. As in, I will probably not do scene-to -scene recreations, but take advantage of the general idea and the setting!

Feedback is super appreciated!!! Let's get the party started!

Read on Ao3

“I can’t believe this day has come.”

“Papa, it’s not my wedding yet. I’m just trying on dresses, remember?”

“Still,” Jaskier smiled, blinking against the sentimental tears in his eyes, “my child is getting married. She’s picking out her wedding dress, how am I supposed to cope with this?”

Amaryllis cooed and leaned up to kiss her father on the cheek. Jaskier immediately wound his arms around her, enveloping her in a crushing hug.

“You promised no crying until the ceremony,” Amaryllis reminded him. Jaskier chuckled against her hair.

“I’m failing, obviously.”

But who could blame him, Jaskier mused as Amaryllis finally managed to pull away. He let his daughter take his hand and lead him inside the saloon, her steps happy and prancing, so adorably enthusiastic. Amaryllis was his only child, his baby, his light in this world. Of course, he would become emotional (over and over again) over the fact she was soon to be a married woman. Amaryllis’s fiancée, well, soon-to-be-wife, Sara, was the sweetest thing. Jaskier loved and trusted her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. He always did: he was a parent, that was what he was supposed to do. His child was facing a huge milestone in her life. Jaskier was filled with fear, hope, and a tremendous amount of pride at the same time. He was just overflowing with emotions, and they manifested in constant weeping, apparently.

He decided to try and shut off the waterworks at least while they introduced themselves to the seller. She was a cheerful middle-aged lady named Kate, who heartily congratulated Amaryllis on her upcoming marriage, then she gave a sympathetic hug to Jaskier as well.

“It’s a huge thing, one of the biggest days in our lives,” Kate chirped as she led them further inside the saloon. “Therefore, it has to be perfect. Any ideas on your dream dress, dear?”

“Not sure,” Amaryllis admitted. She still held onto Jaskier’s hand as she looked over the numerous racks and shelves. “My fiancée will have a strapless dress, and it would be nice to match with her, but I think sleeves are more my style?”

“You should pick whatever you’d feel comfortable in,” Jaskier reminded her softly. “You will look beautiful in everything, anyway.”

Amaryllis gave him a bright smile and a squeeze to his hand before she followed Kate into the jungle of dresses. Jaskier raked his eyes around with a sigh. Fluffy dresses and sleek suits hanged everywhere from floor to ceiling, in every shape and every size. They all looked so pretty. Jaskier’s chest tightened for a second before he decided to look away and check on his daughter instead.

Amaryllis was an absolute dream to shop with. Instead of turning into the stereotypical “bridezilla”, she was calm and collected, listening intently to everything Kate told her. Jaskier was immensely proud of her. He also knew that if he were in this situation, he would probably break down five minutes in.

While Amaryllis disappeared inside the fitting room to try on a couple dresses, Kate approached Jaskier with a smile.

“Beautiful girl,” she told him earnestly. Jaskier grinned, proudly puffing his chest out.

“Thank you.”

“Yours, right? I can tell by the eyes. Same set of beautiful baby blues.”

“Ah, you’re so kind. Yes, she’s my daughter.”

“Are you planning a big wedding?”

“Not that big. More people on her fiancée’s side.”

Saying that out loud tasted bitter on Jaskier’s tongue. He wished he could give his daughter an epic ceremony, but unfortunately, he wasn’t on good terms with his family. His parents divorced while he was still a child, and he has only rarely seen his father after that. He’s always had a stormy relationship with his mother as well. She was a very strict, traditional woman, whose pride was greatly hurt when her husband left her. That was probably why she got so angry when Jaskier told her at the ripe age of twenty-one that he has gotten pregnant and had no clue from who. She wanted Jaskier to fulfill that idyllic family picture that she did not manage, and seeing her own child fail at it, too, caused her to cut ties with him. The only relative that Jaskier could count on was his aunt, the only person who has supported him after he ended up alone, pregnant, and scared out of his mind. Her death devastated Jaskier, especially because she didn’t get to see Amaryllis’s birth. She has left his beloved nephew a lovely gift, though, the Dandelion Inn. Jaskier has spent most of his childhood on the small island his aunt lived at, and he really enjoyed staying over at the Inn, even when he was an adult. It was a friendly, warm little motel that felt more like his home than his actual house. He has also met his two best friends there, who have helped him through many hardships.

Jaskier now lived on the island with his daughter and managed the Dandelion Inn. It was idyllic in many ways, and not very idyllic in other ways. Jaskier knew that an unbonded, mate-less Omega would always be the hot topic of every gossip, especially one that got pregnant so young. He has gotten better at handling the acidic insults, but he wished he could have protected his daughter against them, and he wished he could have provided her with the big, happy family that she deserved.

He quickly waved away the sad memories as Amaryllis exited the fitting room. Jaskier gasped and clutched a hand over his heart, willing himself not to tear up again. As expected, Amaryllis looked beautiful in her mermaid- style dress. Her smile shone brighter than the gemstones on the hem when she twirled around.

“My God, you look beautiful,” Jaskier whispered in awe. Amaryllis ducked her head with a shy grin.

“I like it. I think I’m gonna try the high-low dress, too.”

She tried on four more dresses, and Jaskier told her she looked gorgeous in every single one of them. Amaryllis groaned as she plopped down next to him on a pouf.

“You always say I look beautiful in everything, Papa.”

“But that’s the truth! No matter what you’ll pick, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.”

Kate disappeared to find some accessories to go with the dresses. Amaryllis waited until she was out of sight, then she turned to Jaskier with a look that indicated she was about to say or ask something potentially uncomfortable. Jaskier knew that look too well. It was the same, head ducked down, nose twitching, jaw slightly wobbling face she gave him when she told him she accidentally broke his acoustic guitar, and when she presented as an Omega and had to ask her father about the birds and the bees. Jaskier braced himself with a sigh, and a free cupcake that he retrieved from the tray next to him.

“I was thinking about checking out the suits, too,” Amaryllis started, choosing her words obviously carefully. “But then I was like, I’d rather have a dress. It’s traditional, and I know we’re both free spirits, but I think I’d like a really traditional wedding, you know? An Omega girl in a big fluffy dress, her Omega father weeping into his tissue in the front row…”

“Hey, I won’t cry in the front row,” Jaskier objected with a huff, “I’ll cry while walking you down the aisle.”

Amaryllis cleared her throat. She fiddled with the tulle on her dress. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence. Jaskier didn’t even dare to breathe.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked, scooting closer to her on the pouf. “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”

“Well,” Amaryllis squeaked, avoiding Jaskier’s eyes, “iwantmyotherparenttowalkmedowntheaisle.”

Jaskier blinked in utter confusion. Amaryllis turned an alarmingly bright red, which was only accentuated by her snow-white dress.

“What… what was that?”

“Papa.”

“You said it so fast I couldn’t make out a single word!”

“God,” Amaryllis sighed, grinding her teeth in embarrassment, “don’t be angry! Just… I… I said that I want my other father, or mother, I don’t know? To… to walk me down the aisle… you know, all traditional…”

Jaskier was very glad he was already sitting, otherwise he would have probably collapsed on the floor. He waited for Amaryllis to reveal it was just a joke. For several, uncomfortable moments, Amaryllis stared at Jaskier, chewing on her lip. Jaskier stared right back, his brain drawing a complete blank page.

“Honey…” Jaskier squeaked out, “you know exactly I don’t know who that is.”

“But, maybe there’s a chance we could find them?” Amaryllis asked hopefully. “I was thinking a lot about this, lately. I would be really happy if we managed to find out who it is, so they could be there, too. I don’t know… maybe you still have some phone numbers? A hunch? Anything? It’s just… it would be nice.”

Jaskier let out a deep sigh. It’s been literal years since Amaryllis has brought up this subject. With each passing year, as she has gotten older, it has gotten easier to explain: it was the worst when she was still a little child, not understanding why everyone had two parents while she only had her Papa. It was even worse with her overhearing all those nasty gossips about how Jaskier was such a lowlife Omega, sleeping with everyone and having bastard children. When she was a little older, Jaskier could give her a vague explanation on how her other parent left, and how they were unfortunately not coming back. Amaryllis was already a teenager when Jaskier eventually revealed the truth that he had absolutely no idea who the other parent was. He didn’t give her all the details about how he was definitely enjoying his youth. He was a pretty hedonistic young Omega who gladly shared his heats and non-heats with many, many… many people. He didn’t tell her about his short-lived, heartbreaking romances and everlasting loves that only lasted for about a week. She was a smart child, she managed to put the pieces together anyway.

So, Amaryllis stopped pushing for an answer a long time ago, accepting the explanation that Jaskier didn’t know. It felt like a bucket of icy water was poured straight over his head when she, twenty years old and ready to get married, brought this up again.

“Look,” Jaskier told her softly, reaching for her hand, “I know this is going to be your big day, and trust me, I would give my left arm to make sure everything could go exactly as you wanted, including a full set of parents if that’s what would make you happy, but unfortunately… I can’t give you that. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Amaryllis squeezed his hand gently, “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. This isn’t your fault. I just… I guess I reminisced a little, and I daydreamed a little, and… when I imagine my big day… I see someone else there. With you.”

“Well,” Jaskier forced a grin onto his face, deciding to hide the sudden pain that flared up inside him with humor, like so many times before- the only way he managed to survive the heartbreak, the loneliness and the hopelessness he has felt through his life. That was the only way he could get through the pregnancy alone, that he could get through raising a child alone. The only way he could protect Amaryllis from feeling that pain.

“It seems like you’ll have to make do with your old, single father.”

“You’re not old,” Amaryllis reminded him with a laugh. “You had me when you were about my age. You’re still rockin’ and you’re still smokin’.”

“Such flattery. I assume the dress you want is really expensive, then?”

Amaryllis laughed and gave him a tight hug. Jaskier hid his face in her neck so she couldn’t see the way his smile faded.

Kate returned with the accessories amidst many apologies for going away for so long. She took Amaryllis with her again to try the jewelry with the dress so they could settle for the best option. There was an uncomfortable, churning sensation inside Jaskier’s stomach when he was left alone.

The last thing he expected was this. The idea that Amaryllis has been thinking about this again, that she might have felt sad over not having her other parent there shattered Jaskier. He never wanted to see his daughter sad, especially because of him. And sure, Amaryllis assured him it wasn’t his fault, but it kinda was, wasn’t it? If he wasn’t such a slut, sleeping with everyone who caught his fancy, this wouldn’t have happened. He could have committed to an actual relationship, bonded with a nice Alpha or Beta or maybe even another Omega, could have gotten married, and now Amaryllis would have a beautiful wedding with all her family there, because if Jaskier did that, his mother wouldn’t have disowned him, either. All he had to offer his daughter was his stupid self, a tiny inn, and a herd of goats that he also inherited from his aunt.

He looked into the golden-framed mirror on the wall and sighed at his reflection. He looked younger than his age, something he was very proud of, but when he looked closer, into his own eyes, he’s seen the burden of leaving his careless youth behind.

He spotted a veil on the hanger by the mirror. The ache in his chest amplified. He turned around, quickly checking that no one saw him, then he took the veil off the hanger. He turned it around in his hand, running his fingers over the thin lace. It felt heavy like lead as he put it on his head and checked his reflection again.

You could have had this, a voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother reminded him, if you weren’t such a loose, immoral Omega.

Jaskier cursed and took the veil off, putting it back on the hanger as quickly as he managed. No, he would not let his guilt consume him. He needed to be strong for his daughter. This was about Amaryllis and her beautiful future, not about him and his tragic past.

Jaskier could only hope Amaryllis would forget about her mysterious other parent.

#geraskier #yennskier #radskier #a/b/o #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #radovid #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #alpha yennefer #beta radovid #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #mamma mia au

22 notes · View notes

liliannasprereadmediathek · 1 year

Text

Get in losers, we’re becoming vigilantes ♥

That’s right, this month we’re discussing the classic 90s road movie, Thelma & Louise 🚘👩‍🦰⛰️👩‍🦰🌵🛣️🚔💰

(emojis of oncoming automobile, woman: red hair, mountain, woman: red hair, cactus, motorway, oncoming police car, money bag)

So dust off your denim and your cowboy hat, and join us as we explore what rebellion and freedom look like when you're on the run from patriarchy.

Topics we'll be visiting on our journey include: the genre of the Western and 'frontier justice', the road as part of the infrastructure of patriarchy, and, of course, the iconic final scene.

To join the ride, head to the link in our bio, or find us on YouTube, Spotify, or your podcasting platform of choice 🔗 (link emoji)

Content Warnings:

Mentions of attempted rape, gender-based violence and harassment, police violence, murder, and death. References to suicide (Thelma & Louise driving off the cliff) will be made throughout. Please note that while we make references to gender based violence and attempted rape, we do not go into any graphic detail.

Detailed time-stamps

0:01:55 - 0:02:10 (attempted rape, harassment, murder)

0:16:25 - 0:16:46 (mention of murder, domestic abuse)

0:16:47 - 0:17:17 (verbal and sexual harassment)

0:33:38 - 0:33:48 (gender based violence)

0:34:37 - 0:34:40 (rape culture)

Notes on the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes

🪧www.sagaftra.org/were-fighting-survival-our-profession 📜 www.sagaftrastrike.org/influencer-faqs

Both the Writers Guild of America (@wgaeast, @writersguildwest) and the Screen Actors Guild(@sagaftra) are on strike right now.

Key issues involve residuals and use of AI among others. Please check the link below to both WGA and SAG to see their demands and support them when you can. Remember! DO NOT! CROSS THE PICKET LINE!

Check SAG’s rules for influencers here (https://www.sagaftrastrike.org/influencer-faqs) and do not perform covered services for a struck company during the strike!

www.wgaeast.org/ www.wga.org/

📝 Shownotes: 📝

📼 Preread text (Rowan Ellis, https://youtu.be/SMFll3aIbmo)

Primary Sources:

🎞️ “Thelma & Louise” (1991) (dir. Ridley Scott, wr. Callie Khourie)

Secondary Sources: 📺 “Marge on the Lam” (The Simpsons S05 E6) (wr. Bill Canterbury) (1993) 🎶 “Goodbye Earl” (comp. Dennis Linde) (The Chicks, 2000) 📚 “Driving Visions: Exploring the Road Movie” (David Laderman, 2002) 📚 “American Road Narratives” (Ann Brigham, 2015) 📼 “Thelma & Louise (1991) | Behind the Scenes” (youtu.be/boQk207-IVo?si=RRRTgIM25zjik73S) 📼 “Thelma & Louise [Alternate Ending]” (youtu.be/tnKnTqu3v2c?si=QNGlJ5kMe0yacJLK) 📚 “On the Road” (Jack Kerouac) (1957) 🎞️ “The 400 Blows” (Les quatre cents coups) (dir. François Truffaut) (wr. François Truffaut, Marcel Moussy) 🎞️ “Hunt for the Wilderpeople” (dir., wr. Taika Waititi) 📰 “Monica Lewinsky Is Back, but This Time It’s on Her Terms” (Bennett, Jessica) (www.nytimes.com/2015/03/22/style/monica-lewinsky-is-back-but-this-time-its-on-her-terms.html) 📰 Riot Grrrl (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riot_grrrl) 📓 “Terra nullius” Definition (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terra_nullius) Recommendations:

Lili: 🎞️ “Rocks” (dir. Sarah Gavron, wr. Theresa Ikoko, Claire Wilson) (2019) Anna: 🎞️ “Desert Hearts” (dir. Donna Deitch, wr. Natalie Cooper) (1985)

📱Social Media📱:

IG: @liliannapod/ Twitter:@liliannapod Tumblr:@liliannasprereadmediathek

🎹Intromusic🎹: "Wall" by Jahzaar, licenced under Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-SA 4.0)

🎹Outro Music🎹: “Waterbeat” by DJ Lengua, licenced under Attribution 3.0 Unported (CC BY 3.0)

🎹Transition Music🎹: 050612_Wild West #1 by Pixabay Harmonica_riff-102340 by Pixabay Highnoon-39371 by Pixabay Highway-14475 by Pixabay Hohner-harp-33554 by Pixabay Jingle-slide-guitar-22108 by ShidenBeatsMusic Saloon-door-squeak-102485 by Pixabay Syntheticwind-hektorsound-23953 by Pixabay The-only-harmonica-in-the-west-33942 by Pixabay Train-1-99265 by Phoenix_Connection_Brazil

#WGAStrike #SAGAFTRAstrike #WGAStrong #MoviePodcast #LiliAnnaPod #LiliAnnasPrereadMediathek #queer #FeministPodcast #QueerPodcast #ThelmaAndLouise #RidleyScott #CallieKhouri #SusanSarandon #GeenaDavis #HarveyKeitel #MichaelMadsen #ChristopherMacDonald #StephenTobolowski #TimothyCarhart #JasonBeghe #MarcoStJohn #1966FordThunderbird #WildWest #Cowboy #FeministMovie #RoadMovie #nationalcinemadayuk #lovecinema #lovethebigscreen

#Spotify

2 notes · View notes

feverinfeveroutfic · 1 year

Text

sunburn | desert rose

“I’m so glad you could come along.”

It had been some time since he had last seen Sam, especially after the two of them had returned to the opposite sides of the state in the meantime: it would be a whole day trip just down to Los Angeles from the Bay Area alone, but then he had to hop onto a boat to reach Catalina Island as well on top of that, plus he had to hitch a ride on top of that given he had yet to earn his driver’s license.

It was the whole feeling of being unable to see your best friend after a great length of time: Sam was tucked away in the house on Catalina while her mother worked on her latest manuscript and without really anywhere else to go in the meantime as well. The one day came along when she called him up to ask him about what he had planned to do for the next weekend, and he was eager to tell her that he had nothing on his plate for the time being.

He and Louie hitched a ride over to the Reno-Sparks area, especially since Zelda was going to be there as well. Chuck and Eric had their giggles about it as well, but they had to promise not to tell Louie’s girlfriend while they were away; Eric wanted to come along but there was a far amount of work to do on Legacy’s, now known as Testament’s, new album, especially with Metallica having dropped Master of Puppets the month before. Meanwhile, Alex stayed in the front seat of the car with his long beautiful jet-black hair billowing in the wind and with the sunglasses covering his eyes, all without a care in the world, especially once he and Louie reached the northern edge of Reno and made their way down to Virginia City. Sam had hinted at a little surprise of sorts once they showed up outside the Julia Bulette Café.

It had been quite some time since those two boys had last visited that whole area as well, and the first time they had gone through that canyon due south of Reno, through the hillsides and those lush, low bushes in junction with the sparse grasses that sprouted up with the recent rouses of rainfall over the course of the past winter, so the whole area seemed alien to them. A couple of boys trekking along through the hills as if they were on some wild quest to find buried treasure, Louie’s car hummed along the little two-lane road until they reached that stretch of desert land right smack in the center of the hillsides. The mouth of Sutro Tunnel gaped off to the left side of the road, but there was the café right at the northern edge of the ghost town that rose in the face of the silver mine around the same time of as the California Gold Rush.

“Apparently, it’s also a sex museum,” Louie told Alex once they passed the mouth of the tunnel.

“What, the café?” Alex asked him with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Eric and I were reading about it the other day—it’s like an old western style saloon complete with a makeshift brothel right next door.”

“Ah, man. I assume I won’t be able to go inside for at least another few months.”

“We’ll sneak ya in,” Louie teased him. “You could also just say you’re eighteen, too.”

“Times like this I wish I still had that fake ID from a couple of years ago,” Alex said with a sly smirk.

“Whatever happened to it?” Louie asked him as they slowed down at the northern side of the town.

“Lost it at Ruthie’s,” Alex replied with a nudge of his sunglasses up the prominent aquiline bridge of his nose. “Jeff—Becerra—and I were at the back of the room watching Exodus perform and I literally felt it fall right out of my pants pocket. I’m glad he and I got in otherwise because they were great that night.”

They reached the narrow dirt parking lot on the side of the wooden building there on the right side of the road: no sooner had Louie switched off the car when Zelda’s head of short black hair topped with shiny silvery sunglasses emerged from behind the corner.

“There’s my girl!” Louie exclaimed, and he and Alex climbed out of the car in unison. A gust of wind swept up Alex’s black curls all around his head: he had just dyed the little pearl of gray hair at the crown of his head that solid black, and thus, he hoped that Sam wouldn’t notice the fact that he had covered it up. Then again, she was older than him, and he wasn’t even old enough to hold a beer bottle much less kiss her on the mouth.

They had met Sam as well as Aurora, Marla, Belinda, and Zelda the year before back at L’Amour in New York, and the second that Alex laid eyes on her, he could feel his heart beating faster, and he could feel the heat rising up inside of him. It was a feeling he couldn’t shake, and yet there was no way of telling anyone about it, either. He was just a boy still: what did he know about love?

Indeed, as he and Louie strode on over to meet up with Zelda, he could feel her presence around the corner. Her long hair twirled in the high desert wind and she wore that hat upon her head to accentuate it. It belonged to Cliff, but he and Louie both knew that it was for her. Her face lit up at the sight of him, and he knitted his knees together a bit to show off the slight curve to his hips.

“Hi, Alex,” Sam greeted him: that muddied California accent that, at one point was tiresome for him and yet she had resurrected it and polished it in the loveliest way possible.

“Uh, hi, Samantha,” he returned the favor, and he knew that his face was turning bright red at the utter sight of her before him. He couldn’t help it at all.

“I’m so glad you three could come along here to beautiful Virginia City,” she told him as well as Louie and Zelda. “My parents and I used to come here all the time when I was little and now that I’m old enough, I decided to invite you guys here to Julia Bulette’s after they’ve renovated the place—”

Alex couldn’t help but imagine himself on top of her as she led them into the cozy café and saloon. She belonged to Cliff but the feeling was driving him out of his mind, and more so at the thought of them sitting so close to the sex museum. They sat together at the heavy dark finished wood bar with the matching bar stools to go with it all. While Sam and Louie were of drinking age, he and Zelda could sit there together as long as they served up food.

“Yeah, I don’t turn twenty-one for another couple of years,” she told him. “December thirtieth, no less!”

“At least you’re more than barely legal,” Alex pointed out, and she burst out laughing.

“I really am,” she said with a tuck of a lock of black hair behind her ear. Zelda was like a little elf with her small, slightly pointed ears and slim, wiry body: her hands almost seemed too big for her arms.

“It’s funny, you don’t really strike me as a drummer,” he pointed out.

“I’m tryin’ to put on some weight,” she told him. “Just a few pounds to help me play better. I feel like I can’t keep up most days.” She turned her head towards him: Alex spotted the crown of Sam’s head on the other side of Louie. When he looked past Zelda, he flitted the quickest glimpses into those big brown eyes. Something inside of there, a feeling that he hadn’t seen all too often. Maybe it was the way in which that her face lit up whenever Louie said something humorous to her. Maybe it was the way that they seemed so innocent and yet so ancient at the same time. He wanted to drink down the feeling that resided within, and yet it seemed so out of reach.

He was a boy with a crush, and yet he knew in his heart that that was all he would ever be in the end.

“Alex? Alex!”

He shook his head about and glanced down at Zelda and the slight smirk on her face.

“Penny for your thoughts, big boy?”

“Penis for your thoughts? Is that what you said?” Louie joined in right then and the four of them burst out into an uproar of laughter.

“Penny for your thoughts, Lou!” Zelda exclaimed as her face turned bright pink. The bartender strolled on up to them with a big grin on her face and two glasses in hand, one with a creamy white drink with ice and the other looked like just a straight beer.

“Virgin screaming orgasm?” Sam raised her hand, and Alex nearly choked on his own spit at the sound of that.

“And a beer!” Louie drummed his fingers on the edge of the bar in excitement. The bartender then picked up two more bright red glasses lined with maraschino cherries from the speedwell next to them.

“And a couple of Roy Rogers,” she declared as she set the glasses before Alex and Zelda. When she turned her back, Zelda reached into her pocket for something small and slender.

“Hope no one notices,” she whispered to Alex as she unscrewed the cap and poured in a dark liquid into her drink.

“Oh my god, really?” he demanded.

“Relax, it’s just sarsaparilla,” she scoffed as she put the cap back onto the flask. “Coke’s always been a little too strong for me.” She then chuckled at him. “What, did you think I had booze in here?”

“Maybe,” he quipped as he picked up his glass and sipped it down. The sugar from the Coke made him shake his head about. “Yeah, that’s awful strong.” Zelda took off the cap again and poured some inside. He gave it a quick stir with the straw before the bartender could return and catch them with something from the outside. He then took another sip, and right then, he caught the bite of alcohol in there.

“Whoa,” he breathed.

“Now it’s a Pimm’s cup,” she whispered to him, and flashed him a wink.

“Thought you said it was sarsaparilla?” he sputtered, and he could already feel himself slipping.

“It is, but there’s a little kiss of gin in there,” she whispered to him. “I just didn’t want the bartender to hear.”

“You snuck that in?” He hiccuped. He was without a doubt a lightweight.

“Babes, I’m from New England—we work hard, we play hard.”

Alex looked down at his glass of Roy Rogers, now spiked with the tiniest bit of gin. He didn’t want the drink to go to waste, and thus, he drank it down as fast as he could while he still enjoyed it and kept anyone from giving him odd looks. He was a teenage boy in a saloon next door to a sex museum and the girl whom he had a crush on was two people away from him.

That is, until Sam herself wanted to show them the museum in question, the doorway of which stood right across the room from them. But Alex stayed there at the bar with the Roy Rogers right there in front of him, to which he kept the straw rested upon his bottom lip, as if he was still a young boy who had come there with his parents.

And yet, he was alone there at the bar. The bartender had gone into the back room behind the mirrored, brightly lit back wall of the bar, and the three of them were enjoying themselves together in that sex museum.

He was still seventeen but no one was looking.

“Welcome to manhood, I guess,” he muttered to himself, and he picked up the glass and ambled across the floor. The drink had filled his slim belly to where it felt as though a big dead weight resided within him. He rested his free hand on his waist to steady himself, and he staggered over to the swinging doors there. Deep rich red lights washed over the crown of his head, a more intimate feeling to everything as well as their four precious bodies congregate inside of there out of mere curiosity.

Alex stood in the doorway of the sex museum, and the only things he was missing were his cowboy boots and a matching hat.

“Oh, my god,” he breathed. Sam, who stood right by the doorway with the glass of virgin screaming orgasm, showed him a smile.

“I’m glad you came,” she told him in a near whisper.

A soft rustling noise caught his ear as the four of them stood there at the front part of the rather small, intimate museum: the walls were all smooth and rich in appearance, and they seemed to close in on them in there, the vast dark cavern that gave him so many feelings the more that he thought about it. Alex kept his attention to Sam with his lips slightly parted, and she kept her gaze fixed on the conspicuous patch of black over his forehead. A small vein in a dark tapestry of blackness that riddled about his head in a thick, lush helmet, and yet, he knew for certain that Sam could see it for herself given the fact that his hair there did not grow the same way as the rest of his hair.

She sniffed the side of his face.

“Do I smell a little booze on you?” she asked him, still in a low whisper.

“No,” he assured her.

“You sure?” She flashed a glance over at Zelda, who was checking out some old lingerie from the Gold Rush era on display with Louie at her side.

“Positive,” Alex promised her. Zelda and Louie bowed ahead, but Sam led Alex over to the corner right next to the doorway to keep him in the shadows, away from prying eyes, be it the bartender or from someone else who desired to come into the saloon for any reason. Alex downed the rest of the dirty Roy Rogers while Sam polished off the rest of her virgin screaming orgasm.

“I feel like we could at least have some time to ourselves,” she said, and her voice swept over his soft smooth skin. “I saw you looking at me back there.”

“You’ve read my mind, my dear—” Alex could feel her hand on his shoulder, and she nudged him further into the corner, into the safety of the shadows and between two posters for peep shows no less. Alex gazed on at her with his glass down by his hip and nowhere to set it down. Sam put her glass down on the floor and all the while, she never released her gaze from his face, into those crystalline eyes which gazed back at her from the veil of earthy darkness around us: where everything was dry as a bone out there, Alex could already feel the humidity press itself onto his skin. It was like they had gone to the beach instead of the desert.

“Would you mind at all if we had some time to ourselves?” she whispered to him. Alex parted his lips to speak but no sound came out. Zelda hadn’t poured a lot of sarsaparilla into his Roy Rogers but it had dried him out to where he could hardly say a word.

He had no idea what overcame him. Her body welcomed him as he loomed closer to her. They were behind the corner, out of Zelda and Louie’s sight: as far as Alex and Sam knew, they had disappeared over by the primitive sex toys.

“Please,” he said right into her face, and he moved in closer to her. He rested a hand on her belly and brushed up her shirt: his fingers glided up her skin, and she shivered from the feeling.

“Damn, that’s so soft,” he whispered.

“Just you wait ‘til you touch me below the belt,” she breathed right into his mouth, and he let out a soft whimper right back at her.

Alex pressed his lips onto her own, and he pressed her to the wall to the left of him, right underneath the poster for the peep show. Sam wrapped her arms around his slender waist. His hands glided up her belly to her chest, and then onto her back for the hooks on her bra. His curls fell all around the sides of his head, and the ends brushed against the sides of her own: these frizzy, fuzzy little corkscrews that brushed against her skin. She could feel his hair while he drank down the scent on the crown of her head as well as the sides of her neck.

Alex could feel something there between him and Sam. Something he couldn’t exactly put into words. It was a genuine connection with something else, a feeling that someone like Zelda wasn’t telling him a whole manner of things while he was there with Sam. It was as if his body had a mind of its own and all his feelings intertwined in a delicate web within him, and they could wait in his untangling them.

It did. He had his desires, and Sam had her own, and walking along there in silence ignited something so fast between the two of us. If this wasn’t going to make Zelda drink down some more of that sarsaparilla with Louie, then he had no idea as to what would.

“Lord, it’s like making out with the devil himself,” Sam whispered to him in between kisses. And with her, it was like making out with someone who could fit right into his arms.

He unhooked her bra and then his hands slithered down her sides: his lanky fingers pulsated on the tops of her hips, and she giggled at the feeling. She rested her own hands on his upper back and hooked a knee up onto his hip. The fear of being inside of a dark cave went away right then, and the sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears. The sound of his own heart in his own ears made him think of the ghosts which haunted that very ghost town.

They were watching them. Their eyes were watching them.

Even with the cool feeling of the museum around them, Alex could feel the warmth swell up inside him yet again. The warmth from his own body as well as the warmth from hers there before him.

“I want to make you dinner,” she whispered to him. “The biggest dinner you want for your sexy little belly and then I want to draw your beautiful body.”

“Please,” he said as he lunged in for another round of kisses on those lips.

“I want to give you everything,” she begged him.

“And I want to make you everything,” he whispered, and in a husky low tone as well, a tone that seemed to come right out of nowhere. “Everything and anything you could ever ask for—”

“Please,” she begged to him, and she reached down into the front of his jeans for a feel of that skin there. His skin underneath his belly button that was so soft, but when she caressed down under the waistband of his jeans, he knew that it felt like stroking silk. His hands then slithered around her chest for a feel of her breasts, right under the cups of her bra. Her skin was so unbelievably soft and smooth under there. Silk on silk, satin on satin, darkness topped by a whisper that morphed into a growl.

She gave him a nice hearty fondle with nothing more than her fingertips, and his body shuddered and shook at the feeling. She moved from her fingertips to her palm for the job and he barred his teeth. The pad of his thumb caressed over her nipple, and she gasped. He snickered at that, and then she gripped onto him for doing that.

He moved his fingers down from her breast back onto her belly: she gasped from the feeling as he brought his index finger to her belly button and all its sensitivity. It was almost pointless to remain quiet given every noise, every sound, every single part of it, echoed throughout the sex museum around us. That whole room catalogued sex. For a second, Alex swore that they were surrounded by the ghosts of the loneliest miners from the thick of the Gold Rush. And then he realized they were the real ghosts, and especially when he peeled off Sam’s shirt and pushed it up to her face so she couldn’t see him drop his pants part of the way. She couldn’t see him press his lips onto her nipples, as dark as the earth beneath us.

She writhed underneath him. She had to be coming soon enough. She pushed her shirt off her face, and he raised his gaze from her chest with his tongue out and his face flushed. It was right then she realized that she had let go of him.

Quickly, she reached back down to his underwear, and she let her hand make its way down there again. He held still, complete with a big euphoric grin on his face: though his pants were still on, he could feel himself growing wet from her loving touch.

He was going to come before her and before he turned eighteen no less. He couldn’t believe it.

He held still so she could find it. And then she found the damp spot.

She slipped her fingertip in there for a little fondling. Alex closed his eyes. He panted right into her mouth from the feeling when he stuck his hand down the front of her jeans for a feeling for himself. But it was too little too late for him, though. He could feel himself coming right onto her fingertip before he could do anything more. Sam beat him to the punchline.

He gasped, and then let out a low moan right into her throat. His moan then morphed into a low, gravelly growl, a sound so primeval that even the ghosts that haunted the walls of that museum could hear him.

He shoved his hand down the front of her jeans for a few little twitches on her clit, and she burst out laughing at the feeling. When he touched that little nub of nerves, Sam’s laughter stopped, and she let out a soft low moan as well. She came so fast, and she came so softly and quietly, and it was enough to let a wave of warmth wash over the two of them. It helped that the room was somewhat humid: Alex could feel the warmth and the glow over his forehead and his cheekbones.

Sam raised her head to him, and she, too, had a warm sheen over her face. She put her arms around him, and he let some of those corkscrews fall around the sides of her head. As far as they both knew, Zelda and Louie had never heard them, even though their voices echoed enough through the museum that be heard from the outside. Alex let out a low whistle.

“I’m so glad you could come along,” Sam told him once again, and that time in a low whisper into his ear.

“And I'm glad you could come along, too,” he said with a clearing of his throat. “Dearest Samantha, my dark shadow, my secret face. Let's get out of here before Zelda and Lou see what we’re doing here—”

#spring fever #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #testament fanfic #testament band #testament #louie clemente #alex skolnick #alex x sam #smut #smut and humor #one shot collection #also on ao3 #text

4 notes · View notes

justashamwithwastedpotential · 2 years

Text

Thanks to @boinurmom13 I've written 1.6K words worth of self indulgent backstory on my Farmer, Sam, and Lance's relationship. Enjoy

Sam and Sky

Skylar first met Sam through Victor after he invited them to hang out at the Saloon on Friday.

They walked into the game room, saw Seb and walked straight out because they had an awful first meeting with Seb that involved spilling a bowl of pumpkin soup all over his hoodie and him giving Skylar a glare that still gives them chills.

While quietly relaying this to Vic, Sam snuck up behind them and dragged them over to the pool table where they quickly learned that between Sam's pool technique and Skylar's math skills, they're still not even close to beating Seb. It is closer than when Sam tries it alone though, so he asks Skylar to start meeting up with him after work on Wednesdays to train with him.

Eventually Sam starts talking to Sky about his band and the two of them start hanging out more often. Sam catches feelings first, but felt like Victor and Sky had a thing going on so he eventually asked Victor about it. Victor of course is horrible at keeping secrets and immediately told Skylar about it because he felt like they'd make a cute couple.

Skylar then proceeded to become increasingly more awkward around Sam because they like Sam a lot and it's not like they're against the idea of dating him, but their aromantic ass just can't generate the feelings they think they're supposed to have so they're hesitant about it because they're worried it's unfair to date him if they don't feel the same way.

Victor convinces them to talk to Sam about it, but they never find the right time to bring it up until Sam asks them out directly. They panic pretty badly and end up kind of running away from Sam, only to come back the next day with a bouquet with the pollen picked and washed off. After a long conversation, Sam accepts it and they spend the day watching videos and cuddling.

Sky and Lance

Skylar heard about Lance from other adventurers in the guild (mostly Drake and Jolyne) long before they ever met him. They also read a good majority of the books he'd written from Victor's library although they didn't realize it. (They referenced one once when the two were on an expedition and got really embarrassed when they realized he was the author.)

They started to bond more over their love of monster research as Lance found Skylar's ability to pacify and befriend some of the monsters incredibly helpful to his studies. Their combat ability by the time they met had greatly improved as well, making them a good choice to compliment his own ranged fighting style.

They also started to spend more time together once Lance offered to help teach them more combat magic. He was impressed by their quick learning, but their aim makes him wonder if he's made a mistake sometimes.

Overall the two of them respect each other greatly, and Skylar's companionship and small acts of kindness like bringing meals to the outpost for the adventurers on duty make him grow rather affectionate towards them, but since he knows they're in a relationship with Sam he keeps his feelings to himself.

Sam and Lance

Sam and Skylar had already been living together for about a year, so Sam was a little shocked to open the door one day to find the spiky, pink haired adventurer on their doorstep looking for Skylar. The action was nothing new, people visited Skylar often, but he'd never seen this guy before.

And after Lance gave Skylar his schedule Sam didn't see Lance again for a while. Skylar had started talking about him more frequently of course as they started working together more often when it came to the guild which made him a little jealous at first.

Unfortunately for Lance, Skylar would also talk about Sam and Victor just as often to him. As much as he wanted to break the "work" barrier and establish a friendlier relationship he didn't know how to make it known, nor did he wish to risk pushing his boundaries knowing Sky already had a partner.

The two met again properly after Skylar and Lance had gotten closer. He invited them up to the Highlands with him and came by to pick them up, but they were still busy doing their farm chores so he made incredibly awkward small talk with Sam in the meantime.

Over Lance's many visits they two started to get more comfortable around one another and the stories Skylar would tell about the other began to result in a mutual respect for each other, which evolved into admiration for each other's skills and abilities, which evolved into adoration for one another the more they interacted.

Lance found himself spending his rare amounts of freetime with the two of them along with Seb, Abby, and Victor some days. They taught him to play Solarian Chronicles and there is a great moment of pride when it looks like they're going to lose the boss fight and Lance in the most serious tone declares he has no options left but one, and successfully seduces the monster.

Sam approached Lance about learning how to fight after Skylar got wounded in the Badlands. It wasn't bad. They'd learned to handle themselves fairly well by the time Camilla allowed them to go there, but Sam still felt anxious about it. Lance protected Skylar all the time. He wanted to be able to do so as well, not that he'd be following Skylar around any time soon. It was just in case of an emergency.

Lance's first instinct was to tell Sam to seek out Marlon's assistance in the matter. He was the local legend after all and would surely be of far more assistance given his availability, but Sam insisted he wanted Lance to teach him, especially because he doesn't actually want to go anywhere near the mines and was half afraid Marlon would do what he did with Skylar and hand him a rusty sword and send him in as a test.

So Lance agreed to teach him the basics. During their first lesson Sam complained about learning nothing but footwork which resulted in Lance declaring that if Sam could beat him in a duel, they could move on to the next lesson.

Of course, Lance knocked Sam on his ass in less than two seconds flat declaring that he won as he held Sam at swordpoint which gave Sam a big gay crush that kept him from focusing for the rest of the lesson.

After Sam started to grow more confident in his abilities he wrote a song for Lance as a thank you which Lance often found himself humming while he trained or was out doing research.

Eventually the two decided that Sam was kind of hopeless when it came to sword fighting but he was really good with a slingshot from all his practice for the fair, so they switched focus to target practice instead with Lance still encouraging training in melee combat from time to time.

Sam/Lance/Skylar

With Lance spending more time in the Valley with Sam and Skylar spending their weekends in the Highlands with him the three of them became really close, with the couple often inviting Lance to stay for dinner or offering the living room to crash in if he was too weary to to travel back to the guild.

Over time the farmhouse starts to have more and more signs of Lance's presence. Research notes he and Skylar took in the Highlands. A second fridge for monster crops and other magical plants. Half drawn maps and sketches of dungeons and monsters yet to be fully studied. Potions and elixirs as well as ingredients and empty vials stored in chests by the kitchen, manuscript drafts scattered over the living room table.

It's not that he intends to be messy, but when he gets invested in his research it helps to have it all in view and the farmhouse provides more space than the guild. It becomes a common sight to see Lance pouring over his research with a pen tucked behind one ear and hands covered in charcoal as he works on his drawings and Sam working on his latest song or commission with a pencil between his teeth. Sometimes on their more lax days, Sam even teaches Lance to play some of his instruments.

It takes the rest of the day to explain the concept of polyamory to them, and Skylar becomes just as awkward around Lance as they were with Sam for the next few days, but after spending the weekend fighting by his side they figured that romantic or not they enjoyed Lance's company and they would be happy to try being partners with him too if he was willing to make the commitment (much to Sam's glee upon their return.) And the two spent the next week trying to figure out the right way to bring it up to Lance.

It was a Thursday. Lance had just left for Ginger Island, and Sam was helping with the animals when he suggested to Skylar that they (Sam and Sky) should ask Lance out on a date. Skylar laughed at first thinking it was nothing more than a joke until they realized Sam was being serious. Dating one person was already confusing enough most of the time, having a second partner was beyond baffling and their response to Sam was a genuine, "Is that allowed?"

Sam was the one who asked Lance out much to Lance's confusion, (Not that the concept was foreign to him by my headcanons, Sam was just bad at getting his point across and Skylar was too busy standing mute in the background being too shy and embarrassed to help elaborate) but Lance eventually figures out what's going on and is happy to agree to a date.

7 notes · View notes