#and trying to get fitting pants for something like that would be REALLY impractical unless you had leggings instead lmao

[unexpectedbrickattack]

the very CONCEPT of Gustavo being Peak Performance of gnomekind and then hooking up with someone EVEN BETTER is sending me. Imagine other gnomes just being like omgomg i wish i was as hot as gus oh my goodness. And then he pops up with (a reluctant) pep in tow like 'hi everyone!' and they lose their goddamn minds over how unbelievably SPICY HOT this anxious chef is. like GUS HOW DID YOU DO EVEN BETTER

YES EXACTLY lmao it seems very silly when u put it that way djsfkskfhdsfjkh but yes that is basically it. I even drew up examples of my own homebrew gnome designs to give u some perspective

Gus is like the best example of this; hes VERY strong (strong enough to tame a creature like Brick), good facial and body hair (which is the equivalent of my homebrew gnomes viewing thick and well groomed fur as very attractive), and hes got a very sturdy body shape (not fat, but fat would be included in this too; Peppino is proof of that)

So when they see Pep theyre like ! Hes even BIGGER and he can lift Gus with no fucking problem! Like he is EVERYTHING!!!

[transbodydreams]

Things transwomen should think about before they start transitioning - clothes edition!

Okay, I'm a month into committing to transitioning, and one of the first things I've had to deal with is building a brand new wardrobe. I had a handful of feminine items, but nothing that was practical and nowhere NEAR enough to actually have something to wear every day! It's been really hit or miss so far - I do now have enough cute, wearable clothes that I could wear something different every day for a week, but that included buying at least as much stuff that didn't fit, was poorly made, or turned out to look terrible on me. I've had to entirely relearn how to shop for clothes and wade through a ton of confusing, contradictory information about sizes, fabrics, styles, and all of the things that make women's clothing so much more fun (and infuriating) than men's. These are a few of the key lessons I've learned that I wanted to share - hopefully someone will see this and not make at least some of the mistakes I made? 😏

Trying to build an entirely new woman's wardrobe all at once is f*cking expensive! Women's clothes cost more than men's in general, and bigger sizes cost more than smaller sizes - sometimes a LOT more, since often the sale prices you see online only apply to the smallest sizes. As a man I could walk into Old Navy or someplace like it and pick up a couple pairs of pants, 2-3 shirts, and some underwear for less than $75, but the equivalent women's basics at a will cost you anywhere from $100 to $200, even if you're shopping at a discount chain like Marshall's. You'll find better deals online, but still expect everyday clothes to cost you at least 25% more for even the most simple items, and don't even get me started on the cost of a really nice dress!

Set a budget and plan your purchases based on what you need, not just what you want. You need to start with basic FUNCTIONAL items like practical, wearable underwear (hose, panties, bras. etc.), season appropriate tops, leggings, skirts, dresses, and if winter's coming, don't forget sweaters and outerwear!

You really do need to know ALL of your measurements before trying to buy clothes - don't guess, you'll get it wrong! There are lots of online resources that tell you what and how to measure. Get yourself a measuring tape and write it all down! Oh, and good luck trying to figure out what a listed "bust" measurement means for a top or dress - does it mean underbust or chest or overbust or bust, because those are all different names for two different measurements 😒

You're going to want to throw out all of your boy clothes, but remember that some female things are just not going to fit you yet, no matter how badly you want them too. Pants are a good example, especially fitted jeans. Unless you're really lucky or you plan on wearing a padded girdle all the time, you probably don't have the butt or hips yet to make most women's jeans work. If you already have some men's slim-fit stretch jeans, for example, very few people will notice the difference from women's low waisted jeans (other than the fly going the wrong way) and they'll look better on you. Plus, some men's items can be repurposed to be worn in a more feminine way, so resist the urge to burn them all!

If you're only wearing your fem clothes at home you can afford to be a little impractical, but if you intend to start wearing them in public remember that you'll need practical stuff that you can wear to do mundane things like grocery shopping or going to work. Don't be that girl in the bodycon mini-dress and 6" platform heels in the produce section!

If there's someplace you feel comfortable going in person, you really should start by trying some things on in a store to get a sense of how things fit and what will work on your body vs what you WISH would work on your body. Online ordering is private and safe and awesome, but there's no telling if what you buy will fit or work for you. If you take the time to try on a bunch of things on for real first, at least you'll have a basic idea of what might work and what definitely won't.

Think about what you want your personal style to be, and try to be realistic about it. Much more than men's clothes, women's clothes are really designed for very specific body types, and no matter how much you wish you could pull off a look, you need to figure out what actually works for your body now. Are you thin enough or young enough to carry off that super cute ultra-stylish street and clubwear, or is it just going to make you look old and fat? Do you really have the hips and butt to pull off those booty shorts? Think about all the times you saw someone dressing inappropriately for their age or body type and cringed, and don't be that person. If your goal is to look good in those styles then figure out what you need to do for it to work for you, but don't waste all of your money buying things that don't look good now and won't fit when you achieve the body you're working toward. Patience, woman! You'll get there!

All that said, if you really feel great wearing things that aren't necessarily "right" for your body, then f*ck anyone who tries to judge you for it. You be you, girl!

Just because it says it's a size 12 doesn't mean it actually IS a size 12. Women's sizes vary a LOT depending on what brand you're buying or where you're buying it from, especially if they only use small/medium/large etc instead of numerical sizes. Find a store or brand that fits you consistently and use that as your gold standard. that way if you buy something from a different brand or store you can get a sense of whether their items are going to trend bigger or smaller.

Finally, a word about wish.com. Someone suggested this site, which is basically the Chinese version of Amazon, as a place to get some stuff really inexpensively, but it is definitely a buyer beware situation. The prices are jaw droppingly low, it's true (seriously, you can find just about anything for under $5!), but it's REALLY hit or miss, like you should expect at least a third of what you buy to be unusable. The sizes are all over the map - some items don't list a size chart at all, and in general everything is a size or two smaller than you would expect it to be, except when it's not. Plus, a lot of the less expensive stuff they have is really poor quality, and their shipping times and costs are RIDICULOUS! I ordered a bunch of cute summery things and not only did the shipping cost more than the items, it's taken so long for them to get here that it's now too cold for me to wear them anywhere except around the apartment with the heat on full blast! I love the site and will probably keep using it (who could resist getting 3 dresses, two tops, two pairs of heels, 2 pairs of leggings, and a couple of cute bras and panties for under $100, even including the exorbitant shipping and the likelihood that at least 4 of those items will be unwearable?) but do your homework and at least read the product info and reviews before purchasing! And remember, it's really easy to get a refund on wish, and given that they only ask you to return items that cost more than $25, all that cheap stuff is basically free to try if you're willing to wait 4-8 weeks for it!

[asupernaturalgirl]

Engaged to Be Wed - Part 2

Daryl x Reader

Summary: The reader is now engaged to Daryl Dixon and couldn’t be more excited. It’s always been her dream to get married and she’s always had the perfect idea about what she wanted with her wedding, however, the apocalypse raging around her makes things a little more difficult. 

A/N: I know some of you all are going to be excited about this one. I’m continuing the series and I hope you all like it! Each part with feature one part of the wedding process. Enjoy!

Warnings: none! Just a good amount of fluff

                                                           ...

Who knew it would be so difficult to plan a wedding during the zombie apocalypse?

You definitely didn’t. 

There were some no-brainers. Father Gabriel would marry the two of you. He immediately agreed as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Maggie agreed to be your maid of honor almost before you could even mention the words to her. As soon as she had heard you and Daryl had been engaged, she was knocking down your door offering herself to you. 

The harder parts were the ones where you had to selectively choose what was and wasn’t important. Some traditions were impossible due to the fact that the majority of the world was currently dead and society had collapsed, but others were just impractical. There wouldn’t be music or dancing, no large cake, no honeymoon, no registry. 

The hardest part was choosing whether or not to get a dress. You would wear something no matter what, even if it was just a simple dress, but the child in you wanted something bigger, something that made you actually feel like a bride. The danger of going out to find that dress was what was keeping you away. Was a wedding dress worth putting lives at risk? No. At least not in your mind. 

There was also other work to do as usual. Alexandria relied on everyone making an equal effort into continuing work for the better of the group. You couldn’t just drop all of your work in order to plan a wedding that didn’t mean anything to anyone except you and Daryl. 

You sat at the breakfast table, writing in your notebook. Daryl walked in, pouring himself a glass of water before shoveling some powdered eggs into a plate of his own. 

“What are ya doing today?” He asked, taking a sip of the water. 

You placed down your pen and began to eat your eggs now that Daryl had sat down with you. This was one way you were able to stay so close to him while you were so busy. The two of you had designated specific times throughout the day that were for you to connect unless there was some sort of emergency. “I don’t know yet. Someone told me yesterday they needed some help in the pantry. You had a pretty big run yesterday, didn’t you?” 

He nodded quickly. “Brought a small car and could barely fit everything in there.”

You raised your brows. It was rare they would find a place with that much food left these days, but you thanked god for the times when they actually did. Watching Daryl leave those gates always left you feeling so helpless and anxious, knowing fully well what could go wrong out there. The fact that they had been so successful made you feel a bit better. 

“Are you going on another one today?” 

He shook his head. “No, Glenn and Maggie wanted to go. I think they just want to get away from everyone for a little bit. Don’t blame them.”

While runs were dangerous, the feeling of freedom sometimes outweighed the risk. It gave you a chance to actually do some of the things you wanted to do, rather than what everyone else needed you to do. 

“Did you ask Rick about….” Daryl started. 

“Not yet. I’m going to do it right after breakfast,” You stood up, bringing your plate with you to clean. “Wish me luck.” 

“Good luck,” He chuckled slightly and gave you a kiss before leaving the room himself to get ready for the work he would do today. 

…

Rick was always happy to see you. Judith sat on your lap as Daryl poured you a cup of herbal tea that had been freshly dried. He purposefully made it weak to save the leaves, but it was always better than just plain water.

You played peekaboo with the toddler in your arms as you waited for Rick to sit down next to you. She giggled loudly every time you would scare her. Her laughs filling the room ended up making you laugh as well. Her father smiled as he walked in the room, loving the fact that his daughter had so much support in the group. 

“What did you want to talk to me about, Y/N?” He questioned, finally taking a seat beside you. 

You nervously set Judith down, motioning for her to go off and play with her toys. You clasped your hands in front of you, trying to build up the courage to finally ask him the question that had been on your mind since Daryl had asked you to marry him. “Will you walk me down the aisle?”

Rick’s eyes softened immediately, a joyful expression crossing his face. He smiled widely. You were surprised to see the small tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “Of course I will, Y/N. I would want nothing more than to walk you down that aisle. I see you as one of my daughters anyway.” 

Your heart warmed at his confession. Rick meant everything to you. He gave you advice, he offered you comfort, he protected you when needed. He was the definition of a father figure and you wouldn’t give him up for the world. “It probably won’t be the typical sense of an aisle...and I’m not actually sure how large-”

He immediately cut you off from your rambling, shaking his hand to stop you. “I’m honored to do it. No matter what. I don’t care if there’s no aisle or if it’s just you, Daryl, and Father Gabriel. I will hand you off to Daryl.” 

You brought your hands to your heart first and then pulled him in for a tight hug. He patted your back. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’ve grown so much through the years. You deserve to be happy with Daryl.” 

“Thank you.”

…

You tiredly walked back from the pantry. Daryl really did get a bunch on the run yesterday. There were buckets filled to the brim with canned good and everything had to be stacked on the right shelf, in the right order. It took you over 10 hours to actually get everything done. 

You passed Daryl on the way back home. He was assisting some of the other Alexandrians in repairing a few solar panels. He was nifty, although this wasn’t his expertise. It took him longer than expected, but he told you he’d be home as soon as he could. 

As the house the two of you shared came into view, you were surprised to see Glenn and Maggie sitting on the porch swing, a large box at their feet. When they saw you coming, they jumped up, greeting you happily. 

“We wanted to go on a run today to try to find you a dress,” Maggie explained, pointing to the box. “After we got the necessary stuff, we found an old bridal shop and picked out a few things. We didn’t want you to have to wear just any old dress on your wedding day.” 

This was more than you could have ever expected. Never in your life would you think your friends would risk their lives to find you something for your wedding. You brought your hand on your mouth in shock, looking down at the box. “Thank you.” 

“Let’s go try them on,” Maggie said excitedly, pulling your arm inside. 

Glenn had left Maggie behind, deciding this was probably an activity best suited for two best friends. Maggie clapped her hands as you walked out in the first dress. It was a tea party style. If it had been a day ago, this would have been your dream dress, but since you had more options now, you were more willing to say no. 

As you placed the next one on, you gasped while looking in the mirror. Tears sprung to your eyes. This was the one. It was long, but still practical. This is the one you’d dreamed about as a kid. When you told Daryl about what you had imagined, this was exactly it. 

Maggie’s eyes lit up as soon as you exited the room. “That looks absolutely beautiful on you, Y/N.” 

You looked back at the mirror, moving around slightly so you could see it from every angle. “This is the one. I love it.” 

…

Daryl walked in the bedroom, letting out a loud sigh. He was tired, you could immediately tell. You placed the book you were reading down beside you and waited for him to join you. “How was work?”

He gave a signature Daryl grunt, obviously not wanting to talk about the difficulties of fixing solar panels. He stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him in boxers and climbed in next to you while you scooted over to give him more room. You gently ran your fingers along his scalp, playing with his hair just slightly. He would never admit to you that he loved it, but you knew he did. Usually if he didn’t like something, he would squirm away or tell you to stop, but when you messed with his hair, he leaned closer and closed his eyes. 

Eventually he laid back and brought you close into his arms. “Glenn and Maggie brought me back some wedding dresses.”

He seemed to already know as a smile crossed his face. Of course he knew. They probably told him that was where they were planning on going during the run. “Did you find something you liked?”

“I found something I loved,” The picture of the dress in your mind made you feel giddy once again. It was rare that you got that feeling these days. “I cried when I put it on.” 

“When do I get ta see it?” 

“On the wedding day, you dummy.”

Daryl let out a knowing chuckle and ran his hand along your face, gently caressing your nose, cheeks, and lips. He leaned in closer and kissed you softly, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. “You’re gonna look so damn beautiful, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do with myself.”

You kissed him back, deepening it. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you almost on top of him. You pushed the hair out of his eyes as you pulled back. “I can’t wait to marry you.” 

[zoe-oneesama]

Serving up some LOOKS! I love Mylene's Ivan sweatshirt! Would you be willing to talk about what sort of style elements you use for each character? (If you already have and I haven't found it, please ignore the question, that's on me)

I mostly did this for Mendeleiev’s class back when Punch was starting Leave for Mendeleiev, and I did a small run down for how the Main 5 fashion will change in Scarlet Lady, but not Bustier’s class sooooo:

Marinette -[I’m copy/pasting from an earlier ask]- When she likes a color, she sticks with it. She has a versatile wardrobe, but pink must always be present. She has the hardest to nail style because she experiments all the time, but no matter what she doesn’t feel comfortable unless she has an outer layer. Summer, Winter, Shorts, Pants, she needs to the comfort of a jacket - for Tikki to hide in when her purse isn’t appropriate.

Adrien -[Also C/P]- Basic B*tch. He thinks he’s fancier than he is. Oh sure, his clothes are well tailored to him and fit well, but they’re basic as hell. Gabriel isn’t as “innovative” as he thinks he is. Most of his clothes have the Gabriel logo and he sticks to the brand…because Adrien has no fashion sense whatsoever. Oh, he knows in theory what works and can put an outfit together, but he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d wear tshirts with physics puns and cat themed jackets. But alas, when one is an icon…

Alya -[C/P]- Mom Vibes. Fashion is not her priority. She knows enough to do good for her figure, but otherwise can’t really be bothered. Flannels and jeans in varying heights and a snappy tshirt are all she needs. But she is drawn to things that remind her at least of superheroes or superpowers. Her ridiculous high tops with the spiky tongue? She thinks it makes her look fast. She’s also the one who’s going to embarrass Marinette by wearing trendy but “garbage” fashion: fanny packs, Jellies, ugs with sweatpants. Dammit Alya, you’re a beautiful human being, do you mind NOT dressing like a hobo on vacation?! (Secretly her favorite outfits are from Martinique, but she saves them for special occasions).

Nino -[C/P]- Precious trash goblin. Wash your shirts and the neckline won’t be so worn out! He likes graphic tees with his favorite bands and DJs logos on them (he’s partial to ones without the name of the band or DJ so he can find other fans) and prefers things to be loose. He’s also drawn to colors and he’s super chill when his “garbage” girlfriend rolls up to a date looking like she’s going to an amusement part with her four kids, because it means she can’t dump on him for not looking “put together” (she would never!). He’ll try to dress up every now and then for a fancier date or when Adrien manages to snag him a spot at an event with him, but it’s pretty clear he’s uncomfortable without his hat and headphones. He has a few Moroccan outfits that he brings out in the Summer.

Chloe - Expensive Fashion Forward Chic. She made a staple out of shaming anyone else who dared to wear her favorite color yellow over the years. She was extremely smug about being the first in her grade to experiment with makeup that she never bothered to get good at it. Her clothes are expensive with just a smidge of impractical - only someone with cash to burn would constantly wear white pants! She’s also the kind of person to put off dressing for the cold as long as she can- if she puts on all these jackets and layers, how will these peasants see my brand name clothes underneath?! A lot of her fashion decisions are based on long forgotten advice from her mother - gold over silver jewelry, always have something on your head, brand or nothing. She’ll only abandon a well worn trend if her mother directly contradicts it.

Sabrina - Nerdy, geeky, almost like she’s wearing a uniform. She’s preparing to be Chloe’s assistant best friend for life so she has to look the part. She’s long abandoned any hope of shining next to Chloe, so being flashy and showy is out of the question. Luckily, Chloe isn’t drawn to patterns, so that’s a field of fashion that Sabrina can claim for her own. Doesn’t matter where it is, something she’s wearing needs to have a pattern. Leggings are her favorite accessory and she’s taken to collecting Chat Noir merch (though it’s less out of admiration for the hero himself and more for her “role” with Chloe. It reminds her of the rare times when Chloe acts like they’re friends.)

Mylene - Bohemian, and a touch artsy. Peace is important to her and her vibe reflects that. She’s not super up for showing a lot of skin, but neither are a lot of girls in her class. She leans towards a muted color palette so that her hair doesn’t clash, though she usually tries to match one piece of clothing to some color in her hair. Her accessories are a bit childish and kitchy, like her monster head bead, and she has a huge collection of hair accessories, like bandannas and headbands. She has a lot of different passions with various levels of seriousness, so she’ll come to Marinette for advice on how to use her wardrobe to fit the level of professionalism she wants.

Alix - Sporty but on the lazier side. Fashion is such an anti priority. She’s the one Marinette will go to for her more out there ideas because she has no recoil to pants made of buckles or shapeless over shirts, but that’s as far as it goes. Her clothes are made to be weather resistant and easy to slip on (and so that her dad won’t be pissed if she wipes out and rips something). If it were up to her, she’d just shop out of thrift stores and pick out all the color blocked 80s windbreakers, but when your whole squad is held together by a fashion designer, you can only get away with so much. Her nicest clothes are made by Marinette for her professional races and competitions and her favorites have nods to Egypt mythology and history.

Ivan - Punk but like…beginners guide to punk. Let’s be honest, when you’re built like a brick house, shopping is hard - or at least not that much fun. Ditto when you’re a dude that just…doesn’t particularly care. Ivan has a bunch of cargo pants because they fit, they’re grungy, and they’re practical. SO MANY POCKETS!!! Beyond that, like Nino, he prefers to wear band shirts of his favorite groups. His hiking boots are the nicest things he owns and he has a few bracelets that he only brings out when he’s “dressing up”. The most colorful thing he owns is a hoodie/pants set from the Cartoon Monster Show that Mylene’s hair bead is modeled after.

Kim - Sporty and Serious. Sweatpants and running shoes. That’s the make of his wardrobe. After all, you need to be able to challenge anyone to a race at ANY TIME!! Dressing up for him means putting on a pair of jeans, and he’s pretty much always under dressed but also completely oblivious to the fact. Red is his favorite color and he’s partial to that one brand of sports wear that’s on his hoodie-shirt and sweatband. If something is waterproof (and therefore, sweatproof) he’ll give it a try AS LONG AS IT’S REEEEED!!!

Max - Geek Fashion. Max dresses like he’s already 65 years old, and with his best friend being Kim? He might be. He has invested in some good walking shoes because when your bestie is running off at any and every moment, you gotta do SOMETHING to keep up. His pants are higher up than most guys and his shirts are always tucked in. He prefers sweaters over sweatshirts and cardigans to jackets. We are comfortable in this house, not trendy!

Juleka - Electro Goth. Black is the main attraction, but she likes that punch of something neon - purple, green, even blue (Rose can tell she’s feeling romantic when she puts on some pink). She’s tall and likes clothes that accentuate that and she’s a fan of the details - shoulder cuts, lace inserts, epaulets. And despite covering half her face, she’s really into makeup (and she’s way better than Chloe). Does she have colored contacts? She’ll never tell.

Rose - Decora Kei is probably the best shortcut to describing her look, followed by Kawaii Fashion. Doesn’t matter if she burns to look at, she IS the embodiment of soft and cute! Obviously pink is her favorite color, bu she also likes pairing it with some other bright colors. Rainbows. Are. EVERYTHING. And she’s a sucker for bunnies and strawberries and angel wings ^^! How else is she supposed to have an amazing day if she’s not decked out in sunshine?!

Nathaniel - Basic but like Colorful Basic. He definitely hopped the skinny jeans phase and will continue to do so until he finally grows a bit. He holds onto clothes pretty long because there’s only so many times you can buy new shirts after getting paint and charcoal on them before you just stop caring. He aims for durability instead of fashionable, but also collects clothes with the logo from the show he likes. (And no one knows about his secret Ladybug merch collection that he only wears around his house).

Lila - Gyaru was the search term I used. She’s one of the few with a not super saturated color palette, sticking to dark neutrals. She’s drawn to patterns, like polka dots and zebra prints, and tries to balance it with neutral colors. Plus anything that makes her seem “exotic” and foreign and more interesting, she’ll wear (as long as it’s stylish enough for her.) She cleverly toes the line between fashionable and trashy, showing just enough skin or using a just flashy enough pattern. Every piece she wears she’s crafted a whole story around how she got it, like her bracelets being a gift from street kids in Belize or her earrings being a prize she won when impressing an East Asian Prince. 

[megucarecord]

Rating Genshin Impact Character Designs (Pt. 1)

Hey y’all! I’ve been thinking of doing this for a really long time and I decided to finally stop being lazy and do it. So this is going to be a review of all the playable characters in Genshin Impact from a design perspective. I don’t really have any prerequisites to make this list worth anything (unless you count one year of a fashion/sewing class in high school lol) but hey idk, seems fun?

Gonna be super long (10 characters) so putting everything under the cut.

Disclaimer: I don’t actually hate any of these designs, nor do I consider my opinions “fixing” them, this is just for fun. 

Character: Lumine

I have a lot of conflicting feelings about this design. The hair and basic build are fine, very generic but that’s unsurprising for any character that is working at least partially as a pseudo self-insert. The color scheme is also very bland - and is one of the reasons I originally thought that Aether was automatically Geo traveler and Lumine was Anemo traveler. I think that adding more colors would’ve been a good thing, but also would’ve required a revamp of the dress itself, so maybe not the most practical thing, even if I think the dress is a bit too busy. The biggest changes I would make would be to get rid of the fancy part of her stockings as well as the extra flow/ruffled back of the skirt, which is just a bit too much considering the top layer of the skirt is already quite detailed (in a very nice way) and that could’ve just been extended. I also have to admit that though the scarf is very impractical and showy, but it reminds me of a costume from a series I like so I actually like it a lot, although you could definitely term it unnecessary.

Rating: 7/10

Character: Aether

Okay ngl this character design kinda slaps. Firstly, I love that Aether has long hair, it’s a good contrast to Lumine’s cut (and contrast should be super important with characters that are siblings/parallels of one another) and idk long braids are kinda cool. I love that the outfit has distinctive colors, which give the character personality and keeps him from being washed out. The design is much more streamlined than Lumine’s, and although I’m not a huge fan of midrifts (a theme in this post I’m sorry) there’s not actually much I’d change in this design. Except maybe make the cape a scarf to better match with Lumine. This is definitely the superior design in terms of the siblings in my opinion and I think the lack of intricacy fits the image of “traveler” better. It’s not my favorite and there isn’t anything that really stands out in the design, but it’s really solid and I like it.

Rating: 9/10

Character: Albedo

This design has a lot of potential, but I think in the end it’s just a bit too busy (which will be a theme in this game haha). I like the hair - in general I’m glad Genshin isn’t scared to try a bunch of different lengths and styles on guys because if not everything would become painfully boring. I also like the clothes for the most part. The boots are especially sleek, and I like that despite being a Geo character they gave Albedo a bluer, darker color scheme. I think it fits with his mysterious sort of quietly menacing vibe (this man is Frankensteining something I know it). But it really starts to get a bit too much with the coat. I think he needed a coat, again it fits the character, he’s in the middle of a frozen tundra and he’s also a magic scientist man, he needs some sort of coat. But I think the chain and the strap across the front is a bit too much. If I were the designers I would’ve continued with a sleeker theme, make the sleeves longer, the gloves shorter, if you wanted some ornamentation maybe a pack of vials on his belt. Overall very good design, greater color scheme, too busy. Also can we appreciate his banner art? It’s so good I love it.

Rating: 8/10

Character: Amber

Okay first I’m gonna say her card art is super cute. Love the pose, love the style. All gut. Now let me say that this outfit had potential but then it sorta... fell flat. I like the color scheme for the most part, except the white cause idk white is boring and in the game it looks kinda latexy, but I understand wanting three colors and black might be too close to brown. That being said, I hate stockings. Stockings are just the worst, they’re impractical, hard to put on, uncomfortable, should only be worn with dresses. No knight of Favonius needs stockings. Might I suggest pants or shorts? Or like cool pseudo armor plates like with Lumine. Also though I do like the jacket and the leather stomacher design, I think a bomber jacket might suit the character better, because idk they’re cool and they make me think of Amelia Earheart, although that’s such a culturally distinct thing I can’t blame them for not thinking that way. Again the jacket is still very cool, love the stomacher, and love the cuffs.. The belt is lovely and like I said love the embossed designs, but ultimately this design is too impractical, and too bland to get away with being impratical for me. So... yeah.

Rating: 5/10

Character: Barbara

Barbara! Our fav crazy nun. First I’m gonna thank her for having an attack of pure magic then I’m gonna say I hate the color white apparently because I also didn’t like it here. I’m pretty sure she’s supposed to be a novice (could be wrong), so I’d flip the colors, have the accents be white and the main color navy. But idk that’s just me. Overall I quite like her design. It’s a pretty good balance between simple and detailed. I don’t even hate the stockings. I’d say the least good part is the top, the bow and the weird collar is just... ehh? but I don’t think getting rid of the collar would help though. I’d say ditch the bow, make the dress connect to the collar, keep the off the shoulders cold sleeves. I really like the ruffled part of the top skirt. Idk it’s the best part of the design. The hat makes her look like a nurse not a nun though. maybe make the hair ties for the ponytails little veils, might fit better. Overall mostly nitpicks, it’s a strong design.

Rating: 8/10

Character: Beidou

Firstly I’d like to apologize to the Beidou I pulled before never using her (forgive me ily); next I’d like to admit I don’t love her design. I haven’t really harped on the lack of armor on these characters - because I’m not sure how I’d integrate armor into all them without making them bland af, no one wants people running around in full plate armor how tf you supposed to climb in that - but I still wouldn’t’ve put her in a leotard and boots only when she’s a canonical fighter, without even the armor accents on most of the other character. I know that traditional qipao would probably be terrible to fight in, so I’m not going to complain about them slitting it - I actually quite like it I think it’s cool and sleek and fits her vibe - but I will complain about them putting her in a leotard underneath. As someone who dances I can assure you no one in their right mind would want to fight in a leotard, which yes I know isn’t the point and I can’t blame them for not thinking that way. Anyways, I think leggings/stockings and tall boots are quite cool so that’s prolly what I’d do, streamlines the whole design too, gives it a sense of connectivity (idk I’m weird and I don’t look at this character often so yeah). I like the top of her design, although I’d prolly replace the fur on the cap with a large collar, sort of pirate-y or Navy-like. Also let me just say I love the hair and eye patch. Fits her reckless sort of character to hate her hair whipping around, and the eyepatch really sells the concept of her having fought for years. The hand guards didn’t need to be flared, but I don’t mind them being there. Especially since handling a Claymore would definitely rip up your hands if you didn’t have protection. Also the boots though impractical are very cool so... yeah.

Rating: 6/10

Character: Bennett

One of my main team and prolly the closest thing I currently have to a DPS I have conflicting opinions on Bennett’s design. I think it’s a pretty good design all things considered. His belt and all his packs would be busy if you didn’t know Bennett’s character, but considering he’s a wanna be adventurer, I think it works pretty well. Although I don’t know why his extra belt straps are so long... or even exist?? Idk kinda weird. His top is... ehh? I don’t really like it, I think partially because I don’t think Bennett would wear a midrift shirt like this (midrifts where there shouldn’t be midrifts or, as I like to call it, being MagiReco-d) and partially cause the color, though understandable in such a busy design, is kinda bland. I think that’s why the collar works instead of being too busy, we needed some color. If I had to changed the design I’d get rid of the midrift and get rid of those weird extra belt things. Also that one random dagger star thing on one side of his blue collar is just so weird and random and like why does it exist? But overall I like the design, and it doesn’t bug me when I’m playing with him. I think it’s a good example of how busyness can accurately portray a character. Well done.

Rating: 8/10

Character: Chongyun

Another character who I own but have never played, though my friend has him on their main team and they look super cool. I’m not gonna lie I love this character’s design. Firstly the color palette is so good, the white feels like it works to offset all the blue hues - which I love that even the darkest parts of his design are blue not black - so it doesn’t feel bland or irritating, especially with the gold giving it a sense of luxury. I also like the choice to have a tunic that extends to the pants, I think having only white pants would be too bland - again white it a meh color for designs - so it really gives it some necessary details and color. I also like the jacket, again it gives the design a sense of detail while being simple enough not to feel like too much. Also I have no idea what the outfit would look like without the jacket and I have a feeling that answer would be Not Good, so... yeah. Some nitpicks; the left arm band thingie golden cuff is kinda too much and seems impractical and irritating. And... that’s it. I know the slippers are impractical, but I think they work, he is an exorcist not an adventurer after all. Overall, probably second favorite design in the game. Great job

Rating: 10/10

Character: Diluc

Give Diluc a high ponytail, I’m begging you. Lol anyways personal preference aside (which is impossible this entire post is personal preference) I like this design. I think the color works and the whole outfit is a good reflection of Diluc’s character, closed off, luxurious while also a bit ragged and uncontrollable. Yeah. I like it. I do think the thing chain accessory is kinda random, and I don’t think there’s anything about the design that knocks me off my feet, but I do really love the design overall. Also the gloves, good gloves. Suggestions? High ponytailed Diluc. Nothing else. Also though he’s not in this post I like that this outfit is very streamlined and simple compared to Kaeya, it’s a good portrayal of their differing views and opinions through fashion. Because unlike with the traveller siblings I think these brothers have a dynamic where contrast is better than parallel.

Rating: 9/10

Character: Diona

Okay so though I’ve never interacted with this character I skimmed the wiki and I love her backstory it’s hilarious. Also since I never interact with her I don’t have many opinions about her design except why does she only have one sock on? Honestly relatable moments. I think the extra ponytail is kinda weird and excessive considering the hat and I’d prolly make the hair orange to match the ears but overall very cute design. What do bartenders look like? Idk. Oh and also there are a bit too many colors roaming around, but I get it. Overall fairly generic but kinda cute. I still think midrifts are bad.

Rating: 7/10

And that’s it! I hope this didn’t come off as “lol these designs are gross and I’m superior and we should fix them” because no. No one should take any of these suggestions seriously. Except maybe the ponytail one lol. Anyways I hope at least one person likes this cause this took forever and I kinda burned out after a while. Next post if I make it will be interesting cause it includes my least favorite design. May you all have lovely playing and if you love a design I don’t honestly more power to you. Bye!!

[shikikira]

Pajama Problems - Ch 01

Ko-Fi | Master Post | AO3 | FFN | Other Pages

Summary: What if the pajamas Jumin had bought hadn’t quite fit Ami (MC/OC)? What if she was much bustier than she seemed? The issues Jumin and Ami suffer as he attempts to dress her each night.

Rating: M

Word Count: 4,867

How did this happen, Ami sighed as she towel dried her long, raven black hair.

She was only supposed to come by to cheer Jumin up, but somehow she's ended up agreeing to spend the night.

She had been completely shocked by his request earlier, and more than a little shy. But here she was. In nothing but a towel. About to spend the night at his apartment. Alone. With nothing but each other. 

Just thinking about it had her flushing a darker pink than the heat of her bath could be responsible for.

But it wasn’t like Jumin actually liked her; he had even said as much the last time they had seen each other in person six years ago. He had even gone as far as to insult her voice, something she took great pride in, claiming it to be the most irritating sound he had ever had the displeasure of being forced to listen to.

So why hadn’t she said no when she had the chance? 

Oh, that’s right. Cause I’ve been crushing on this guy for more than half a decade when I shouldn’t be, all in spite of him breaking my heart, she thought with a depressed sigh. But it’s not like I can just leave him when he’s feeling this down and not himself. 

Wrapping the still fluffy towel around herself, she looked over the pajamas Jumin had given her to wear for the night.

She had no doubt they were made of the finest material. The soft, smooth texture told her it was made of 100% high quality silk.

He must have really gone out of his way to get me something so well made at this time of night, she mused as she slipped the long pajama bottoms on over her own panties; the one thing she refused to let the older corporate heir to buy for her..

They were a snug fit; almost too tight if she had to say. But overall, Jumin had done fairly well at guessing her size even it was slightly on the small side.

Glancing at the matching top, Ami frowned. She already knew it wasn’t going to fit. Nothing in this style ever fit unless she had it custom made.

She sighed in resignation as she pulled the shirt on. Sure she had another shirt with her, but she didn’t want to waste Jumin’s good will. She’d probably make him more upset if she forewent the shirt really.

Clutching the front of her top together, she furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at herself in the mirror.

As always, the shirt just wouldn't fit right. No matter how much she pulled or pushed, the shirt obstinately refused to listen to her commands.

Struggling to make herself presentable in her borrowed clothes, she huffed, calling an end to her ever losing battle. She’d just have to leave it as it is.

Gathering up her dirty clothes, she gave herself one final look in the mirror before heading out to find Jumin. 

He couldn’t believe he’d asked her to stay the night with him, but Ami had brought a sense of peace to him that he hadn’t felt since… even he didn’t know when.

Pacing around his living room, Jumin attempted to sort through his thoughts and emotions as he tidied whatever little mess he had made that morning in his haste to secure Elizabeth III’s safety.

Although he tried to organize his thoughts about his father and the man’s newest tramp, his mind couldn’t help but keep returning to the newest R.F.A member.

And the fact that she was currently in his bathroom.

In his shower.

Naked.

He shook his head harshly at that reminder, swiftly putting a stop to that thought before it could develop further.

Ami was a fellow member of the R.F.A. He shouldn’t be thinking of his fellow member so crudely. Especially since she trusted him enough to agree to stay the night despite how inappropriate his request was.

But try as he might, his brain wouldn’t stop wandering back to that fact and reminding him that Ami was currently alone with him in his home.

And that she was currently dripping wet from her shower.

Naked.

He may not have been able to see how her body looked thanks to the thick coat she had worn, but he could already tell how gorgeous she was.

In his mind he could already picture Ami as if he was standing in the bathroom with her. He could see her divine figure in all its glory as water cascaded down on her. Her long, midnight locks would cling to her luscious curves, protecting her modesty without disrupting her perfection. The water would trail down her lustrous skin in rivulets leading from her slender neck and down to the valley between her ample breasts and further still to the area that made her a lady. Her delicate hands would glide down pass her navel to dip—

Don't go there, Jumin.  

Jumin groaned as he hastily shut down his latest train of thought. His pants suddenly feeling much tighter than he was used to.

What was wrong with him? He shouldn't be thinking about her like this. Not only was Ami a dear and trusted friend of Jihyun's, but, from what he could tell of their conversation, she was older than him.

Were his problems with his father affecting him this much?

He hadn’t even considered pursuing any sort of relationship with Ami beyond that of colleagues. He wasn’t even sure if he liked her as anything but a possible friend, much less be lusting after her as he was doing now.

Wait, is this lust? Is this why I keep thinking of her so indecently?

His original train of thought came to a grinding halt as he reviewed his earlier thoughts and actions.

For one, it was completely against his morals and personal rules to have an unmarried and unrelated man and woman to spend the night under the same roof. However, he had still pushed Ami to stay the night with him. And she had agreed, although hesitantly.

He didn’t understand why, but the thought of her being apart from him left him feeling… uncomfortable inside. As if his heart twisted in pain at the mere idea of it.

He had even gone out of his way and bought her a new set of pajamas for the night. Yes, it was his own fault he had to buy them in the first place, but he had never even bought clothes for his own mother before.

He had once heard from his school mates that men only bought clothes for a woman when he wanted to take it off of her. Was that the real reason why he had her stay with him?

He tested this new theory of his by picturing Ami in the clothes he had just purchased for her, and without much prompting, he was already smiling at the image in his head. He had no doubts that he enjoyed what he imagined, but it hadn’t stirred up the response that his classmates had mentioned.

Perhaps it’d work better if I picture her wearing one of those nightgowns with the ribbon that I mentioned to her once. He wondered, his chin now propped up by his right hand.

Surprisingly, he had no issues imagining his guest in the rather, in his opinion, racy and impractical night garment.

Just closing his eyes, he could already see her standing in his bedroom with an expression he hadn’t seen on her before.

A soft smile that was just the slightest bit different from what he had seen before. Her luminescent eyes, half-lidded, had such an alluring quality that they would be what he assumed were called bedroom eyes. One of her hands was playfully curling a lock of her loose set hair through her fingers as if she was beckoning him to run his hands through her silky tresses.

He felt his breath catch as his mind’s eye wandered below Ami’s beautiful face.

Her shapely form was clad in soft, flowing silk-satin that stopped mid-thigh. It clung to her curves enticingly, showing off the body he had no doubt she had worked hard for, but only just enough that she was still a seductive enough mystery he’d gladly solve. Her bountiful breasts would be cupped by the gown’s soft lace overlay, exquisitely accentuating her mature femininity.

For whatever reason it may be, his mind seemed to focus strictly on her wonderful breasts and her sweet lips.

Her lips were such an elegant pink, just dark enough to be seductive and yet light enough to be innocent. Both lips were naturally full with a prominent cupid’s bow on her upper lip to catch his eye. Her lower lip was slightly fuller than her upper one, forming a sumptuous natural pout that begged to be kissed.

If he was to be honest, he wouldn’t mind spending hours just kissing her lips and nibbling on them until they’re a bright, puffy red and utterly his.

But then there were her breasts.

Her two perfect, magnificently soft breasts. He may not have seen them bared yet, but they were absolutely marvelous, that he had no doubt. They were perky, sitting high on her chest and firm, but still exquisitely supple. Her fair, creamy skin would be a delightful contrast to the nightgown’s dark lace.

He’d love nothing more than to bury his face in the valley of her lovely bosom as he lovingly kissed along their curves. He’d suck and nip in between kisses, leaving bright marks against her velvet skin to tell anyone who dared to look that she was his. 

He’d cup her plentiful mounds in his large hands, kneading and pleasuring her as he—

Stop!

Jumin froze as he realized where his thoughts were headed. The nearly constricting feeling of his slacks told him exactly what he had been trying to identify on his own.

He tugged on his black tie, loosening it, as he suddenly felt much hotter than he should have been with his home’s central air set at the perfect temperature.

Get it together, Jumin. Remember, Ami said she didn’t want a relationship. Jihyun had even warned everyone that it would be best for us to not pursue anything romantic with her too.

His hands clenched into fists at the stark reminder of what his best friend had told him and the rest of the R.F.A. when Ami had joined their group earlier in the week. 

Their new coordinator had even reminded them repeatedly that she was merely assisting them as a favor to Jihyun, and was not really a member of their charity group.

But if it was only a favor, why did she go out of her way to come see me? It’s still dangerous with the hacker still running amuck. Something warm bubbled in his chest; a feeling of hope that someone other than Jihyun cared.

As quickly as the feeling had come, the emotion was taken just as fast. There was no guarantee that Ami would stay after helping them with this one party.

The thought that, after this party, he’d no longer be able to talk with Ami or be with her had his chest throbbing painfully. It was as if his heart was tearing itself in two; a feeling he hadn’t felt since he decided he could never have Rika, which admittedly was not the most painful feeling he had experienced.

There had been one other time. Back when he had been studying in the United States for university.

Enough. This isn’t the time to be thinking about that. He brutally shutdown the near trip down memory. He had no intentions of ever thinking back on that time.

Sighing deeply, Jumin pushed those memories back to the edges of his mind. He wanted to focus his attention on the present and his current person of interest, not on a past that was best left forgotten.

Looking down his body, he groaned as he was starkly reminded of his most prominent issue of the moment. The stiff bulge in his pants would need to be taken care of promptly before Ami came back.

It wasn’t often that he had to deal with this particular male problem, but it did happen. No matter how much Luciel and the others liked to joke about it, he was still human with normal human bodily functions.

With that last thought, he concentrated on memories that he was certain that would deflate his dilemma.

Think of Zen’s obscene poster from the other night, Luciel harassing Elizabeth III, the mobs of ass kissing gold diggers. Jumin chanted, picturing each memory as he willed his erection away.

Normally, just thinking about Zen killed his morning wood. The younger man could be so irritating at times more so than their resident hacker especially with his constant whining about being single and his irrational hatred of him.

It may be petty revenge, but he relished shoving Elizabeth III and all things cat related in the actor’s face. 

He wasn’t stupid like the women who pursued him were. Far from it actually—his membership in Mensa was proof of that—he merely played dumb in regards to his fellow R.F.A. members; it was more fun that way.

He knew all about allergies and how they affected the living body, and he knew for a fact that allergies only affected a person when they were in the presence of the allergen. 

Plus, Zen didn’t have a cat allergy, he had a fur allergy; the narcissist had even said as much. The younger member hadn’t even reacted like he had with when he had posted images of dogs to test his theory about the other’s allergy. 

So no matter what his assistant and the boy—because that was what Zen was given his behavior—said, he was going to keep posting everything feline in their chat room.

It was absolutely absurd that Zen and Assistant Kang even thought the cat pictures could actually induce the boy’s allergy reactions. Perhaps the both of them required remedial courses in health science. Or perhaps a therapist in Zen’s case.

Assistant Kang might do well with a therapist as well given the life she has been through. He mused as an afterthought as he adjusted his sleeve cuffs.

Shaking his head, he made to head to kitchen to prep some evening tea, a soothing hobby he and his family shared. With how his mind was tonight and with Ami here, it was too dangerous for him to indulge in wine as he was prone to do when stressed. He figured some warm tea would be the best alternative to soothe his and Ami’s own nerves.

Before he even took his first step, he froze, surprise registering across his face.

“Damn it,” he cursed as he re-adjusted his pants. Contrary to what he had expected, his arousal had not gone down in the slightest.

Feeling his brow twitch in annoyance, Jumin breathed deeply through his nose. Now what was he supposed to do? His usual methods should have willed his sudden lust away, but it was apparently not to be. Was he really going to have manually take care of his problem?

Glancing down at his watch, he estimated that he still had some time before Ami would be done with her shower. His mother and step-mother often spent a lengthy amount of time in the bathroom getting ready, be it for bed or a night out. He figured most other women were similar, but if there was the off chance that Ami wasn’t like his mother then he’d better

With that in mind, he changed directions and headed off to the privacy of his bedroom’s en suite with long, determined strides.

Not even halfway to his room yet, he froze mid-step as a melodious voice called out to him.

“Um… Jumin?”

“Y-yes, Ami?” he answered. Cursing his uncharacteristic stutter, as Jumin turned back around to face his lady, mindful that he not expose his predicament to her.

As soon as he laid eyes on her, his eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped. The perverse thoughts he had previously suppressed immediately came rushing back to him as he continued to stare at the raven-haired beauty before him.

Remembering his manners, he swiftly snapped his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from roving over Ami’s breathtaking form.

Everything his mind had conjured before could not even compare to the goddess that stood before him.

Dressed in the striped pajamas he had purchased for her, she was absolutely ethereal.

A charming blush decorated Ami’s cheeks as she shyly clutched the front of her top in an attempt to preserve her modesty. Her enchanting eyes were cast downwards, avoiding his gaze, as her damp, glossy hair framed her lovely face in a delicate yet alluring manner. Her lips were an enticing red as she chewed on her lower lips in a show of nerves.

His dark eyes roved over the rest of Ami’s stunning visage, noting how well the striped pajamas he had purchased fitted the raven-haired beauty. For a moment, his eyes paused on her well-formed hips, vaguely noting that the pajamas were perhaps too tight if he could see her pantylines, before fixating on where Ami’s hands were.

He felt his mouth salivate and his pants tighten to a painful degree as he gawked at her more than generous bust. Even with the top two buttons left open, he could tell the button up was straining to keep her decent, and despite the shirt being brand new, it looked ready to burst at any moment.

In that moment, Jumin wanted nothing more than to disregard his own rules as his earlier lust flooded him and new fantasies flashed through his mind.

He’d have Ami pushed up against the nearest wall, his body pressing into hers as he ravished her divine skin. She’d moan his name as he stole her too enticing lips in a desperate kiss, plundering her mouth with his fervent tongue.

Gasps and whimpers of pleasure would escape her luscious lips as his mouth traveled along her slender neck and collarbone. His hands would work unceasingly as he stripped them both of their too confining clothes until every stitch of clothing was pooled at their feet or tossed somewhere in his home.

With her fully exposed to his lustful gaze, he’d bury his face in the swells of her mountainous breasts, suckling harshly on one fleshy globe while he kneaded and played with the other. His free hand would travel along Ami’s curves in a not so gentle caress, determined to find each and every erogenous zone on her body.

Taking her dusky nipple into his ravenous mouth, he’d have his free hand dip down towards her clit. His fingers would slip into her as he tweaked and teased her sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly. He’d thrust into her searchingly, adding more fingers as needed, playing with her pearl until she was screaming his name and begging him to take her. She’d be so close to bliss when he finally pulled out and hoisted her long legs to hook around his lithe hips, he’d be all that she’d be able to think of if he wasn’t already.

In one smooth motion, he’d bury himself in her tight, wet virgin (he hoped) heat as he stole her bruised red lips in another insatiable kiss. With his hands on her taut buttocks, he’d pull her hips to his with every thrust he gave her, wanting to be as deep within her as possible. And he had every intention to give her as much pleasure and gratification as humanly conceivable as he fitted her to his body.

He’d bury himself repeatedly within her snug, inviting folds as she clung to his shoulders, her magnificent, supple breasts pressing firmly against his chest. He’d change his pace and thrusts as he would need to heighten both of their carnal passions as he’d pound orgasm after orgasm into her receptive body. Thrusting through her orgasming sheath, only for him to pump her full with his virile seed until she’d be overflowing with and leaking their shared fluids.

Oh what he wouldn’t give to have her flat belly full and round with his child, and her already bountiful breasts heavy with milk. He was sure he’d gladly and readily spend all day and every day filling Ami again and again to make sure it came true. And if he had his way, they’d be having passionate sex hour after hour as they moved from room to room, covering every inch and surface of his penthouse.

“—min? Jumin? Are you all right?” Ami asked, pulling Jumin from his fantasies.

Clearing his throat, the corporate heir promptly replied. “My apologies, Ami. I was just a bit preoccupied. You were saying?”

Save for the light blush that barely colored his cheeks and the throbbing pain in his pants, there was no indication of just how improper his thoughts just now had been.

Mouth still salivating at her tempting vision, Jumin inconspicuously swallowed as he restrained himself. Never in his life had he been so tempted to break his own rules. If he didn’t have as much control of himself and respect for Ami as he did, he very well might have given in to his traitorous lust.

“If you’re sure…” Ami hesitated, biting her lips unconsciously, once again unknowingly tempting him to make his fantasies a reality.

“Um… I’m really sorry you went through all this trouble, I really don’t think this is going to work,” she said, her eyes once again turned towards the floor and her delightful blush returning to her cheeks.

When she finished speaking, his mind went blank and he immediately imagined the worst.

She was going to abandon him just like his father and everyone else. His mother. His tutors. Rika. They all left him.

With eyes of steel, he turned to face her fully as he addressed her, speaking in a much colder tone than he had intended. “What do you mean?”

Ami blinked up at him, her expressive face showing the surprise she felt. “Well this shirt isn’t exactly cooperating with me… Um… Would you happen to have a different shirt I could borrow, Jumin?”

“Oh… yes, of course,” he blinked, taken aback by her unexpected answer. “If you go back towards the guest bathroom, there’s a closet to the right that contains some of my old clothes. Feel free to wear whatever you’d like,” he choked out, embarrassed by his conclusion jumping.

Again, his breath was stolen as Ami gave him the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen. His barely deflating erection instantly returning after a mere look, paining him with all the lust he had been holding back.

“Thank you. I’m sorry that I’m being such a bother to you when I came to help you feel better,” she apologized, her head once again tucked against her chest as she avoided his gaze.

“No, it’s my fault. All of this could have been avoided if I had asked you for your size before placing the orders,” he replied in turn.

But then I wouldn't have been faced with such a captivating image.

Shaking his head, he excused himself from the living room, the agonizing pain in his pants reminding him of another matter of import that required his immediate attention.

“If that’s all, please excuse me. I still have some urgent matters to attend to. If there’s anything you need, feel free to use the phones to call the maid or the receptionist. They’ll be able to get you anything you need or want.”

With a polite nod, he briskly turned on his heels and hastily retreated to the privacy of his room. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to his god for bringing Ami into his life.

He kept his mind occupied by such prayers lest he break his self-control and run back to take Ami into his arms and carry out his every desire. 

Once in the safety of his room and the door firmly locked behind him, he wasted no time in freeing his aching length.

A deep groan escaped his lips as he grasped his needy flesh, his fantasies one again flaring to life.

Any resolve he had to not think of his guest sexually died a quick death as he remembered Ami’s innocently seductive figure and how her gorgeous breasts were practically bursting out of her top.

He leaned back against his door as he pictured Ami naked and splayed out across his bed, her luscious, dark hair contrasting beautifully against his white sheet while her fair skin begged him to touch it. How her marvelously large breasts would fan out with gravity but still sit tall and high on her chests, not even sagging with their hefty weight. Her beautiful violet eyes would beckon him to strip and join her in bed.

She’d crawl over to him, her hips swaying provocatively, as he neared his bed. Her succulent lips would part enticingly as her eyes invited him to trust her and allow her to pleasure him.

He moaned just thinking about it.

Fisting himself more firmly with each stroke of his hand, he wondered if Ami’s plump lips would feel as gratifyingly pleasurable as he imagined.

In his mind, he could see her kneeling before him with her full lips stretched thin around his shaft. As he rocked into her warm, welcoming mouth, she’d eagerly bob her head in rhythm with his hips, her tongue ardently laving his member with attention.

Falling deeper into his own lust, his thrusts would grow harsher with plunge into her throat, and she’d moan wantonly at each jarring plunge. As he peered down at the mental image of her raven crown, he’d be entranced by her vigorously bouncing breasts.

His mouth watered at the image of them, wanting desperately to have one or both supple globes in his greedy mouth. He wanted to suckle and bite them until her nipples were red and puffy with his attentions and then some. By the time he was done, if he would ever be, he’d have them sensitive to and needy for his touch, and as hard as he was for her.

Briefly, he wondered if he perhaps he had an oral fixation issue he hadn’t previously been aware of as he seemed to be fixated on Ami’s breasts and had a constant need have his mouth on one or both of them. He quickly dismissed the idea as he’d never felt the need to have anything in his mouth before now.

Maybe he had a breast fetish he wondered as he gave his cock a particularly harsh jerk.

His mind immediately creating an image of himself suckling Ami’s breast harshly and greedily, leaving angry red marks on them as he did. Or perhaps it was just his lust for her.

Whatever the case, he wanted Ami and her luscious breasts to himself.

Groaning as his mental Ami continued to pleasure him fiercely, greedy for his seed, he increased the speed of his strokes, adding quick twists of his wrists in the process.

He bit his lip as the tension in his loins grew with the pressure of his impending release.

“Ami…” he hissed as he mentally dragged his imaginary Ami off his cock by a fistful of her silky hair, and immediately impaled her onto himself.

She’d shriek in surprised delight as he pounded into her soft folds and his mouth latched onto one of her jostling globes, her nipple caught between his teeth. He’d feel her vaginal walls clench along him rhythmically, squeezing him harder as she too neared her own pinnacle of bliss. 

He could practically hear her screaming his name as he pistoned into his wet fist, imagining it as her greedy, sopping sheathe. As mental Ami came from his voracious lust, her ravenous lower lips would squeeze him ever tighter, milking him for all he was worth. 

Growling lowly, he quickened his pace as he neared his peak and bursts of white filled the edges of his vision.

With one final thrust, he came, white cum erupting from his cock and spilling out of and over his clenched fist.

Moaning softly, Jumin kept stroking his now oversensitive shaft, cum still gushing from the tip, as his mind continued to paint Ami in lewd positions.

Thinking of his sensual goddess, he noted how different she was from what his initial assumptions had been.

She wasn’t everything he had imagined.

She was better. Much better.

Not only was she exquisitely beautiful beyond comparison, but she was also kindhearted, intelligent, polite, and mature. And she understood him in a way that not even his best friend and parents could.

She may not be Rika. And she may not be his first love. But in this moment, she was everything he wanted. 

And he couldn’t wait to make her his.

 And that’s a wrap for the time being. Next time, Ami’s POV!

Thanks for reading :)

Tagging: @winterforpolandandfrance, @manju-booty, @ravenhaired-mc, @sleepyfoxspirit, @saizoswifey, @melody-chii,  @mmscum

[peetabreadgirl]

Unexpected II

Happy birthday, @burkygirl!! I’m cutting it close, and I know you’re asleep and won’t see this until the day after your bday, but I heart you very much and hope you likey my story for you. I’ve been talking about a part 2 for my @loveinpanem submission back in February so I went ahead and wrote it for you. Enjoy this fluff-fest! If you haven’t read it, you can find part one here. 

 “What’s gotten into you today?” Lavinia, the PA in his pediatric office, asks as Peeta picks up the chart of one of his patients.

 “What do you mean?” He gives her a funny look.

 “You’re whistling and all happy,” she tells him with a cocked brow.

 His own eyebrows raise in challenge. “I’m always happy,” he replies, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but he’s never unpleasant. He’s built his reputation on the best bedside manner a doctor could hope to achieve. There is a wait list of families dying to become patients of Dr. Peeta Mellark based on his happy demeanor and way with children.

 But now that it’s been brought to his attention and he can compare last night’s accidental meeting with Katniss against every minute before it, he knows something has shifted. He’s not unhappy per se, but he can’t deny he could be happier, and there’s something about Katniss that magnetizes that hope in her direction.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deflects, not yet ready to reveal his fast inflating hopes and crazy luck from the night before.

 He’d thought he was in love once before, in his junior year of college, but that had ended in flames and his grades had suffered for it. It had almost lost him his scholarship, so he’d sworn off dating, or even looking at women until he’d graduated med-school. It was a long, lonely road, and once he’d finally gotten there - and at the top of his class, too - he’d continued to focus on his residency and opening up his own practice.

 Now, at the age of 33, he knows it’s time to jump back into the dating pool. He still can’t believe his luck; a beautiful girl sat down at his table that was never meant to be there. She wasn’t even meant to be in the same restaurant, or even the same side of town as him. He’d thought on it all night. Had wanted to text her the second she stepped out of the restaurant. But he’d waited. And it killed him to think she was meeting up with someone else. What if they hit it off? He had no right, he knew that, but fate had been testing him, and he sure as hell was planning on passing.

 “Hello, Jenny,” Peeta coos sweetly as he enters the princess room. He’d insisted on themed rooms for the kids to make them feel happy in his office and help take their little minds off their troubles and pains. “What seems to be the problem?”

 Though his question is for the blonde girl he sees at least once each month, her mother speaks up. “She has a cough. Cough for him, honey,” Ms. Rogers directs her daughter, as if giving her a signal. Peeta wants to roll his eyes. He knows there’s nothing wrong with Jenny. She’s perfectly healthy. There is, however, something wrong with Glimmer Rogers.

 Still, Peeta is nothing if not the consummate professional, so he checks Jenny over, takes her temperature, asks her a series of questions. At one point he has to stand in between Jenny and her mother to block the signals she’s giving the little girl. Glimmer would make a fantastic baseball coach.

 “Looks like you may just have a bit of a dry throat. Drink more water and suck on this lollipop, alright?” Peeta pulls a green apple flavored sucker from his coat pocket - the flavor he knows is her favorite - and hands it over. Jenny’s eyes light up and she unwraps the treat to pop it in her mouth. “Why don’t you wait in the front room and let me speak with your mother, alright?”

 Jenny nods her head enthusiastically and leaves the room.

 “Is it serious?” Glimmer asks as she closes the distance between them with two strides, settling her hand on his upper arm. He glances over her and wonders, not for the first time, why she tries so hard. She’s pretty in a conventional, California-girl way, although she wears skin tight yoga pants and cleavage baring tops every time he sees her, revealing her goods to any and everyone. He’s well aware of the way single moms try to attract him.

 This is why Katniss was such a breath of fresh air last night. She’d completely disarmed him with her nervous charm and unabashed wit. And then his gut had twisted at her profuse apologies and abrupt departure. That’s when he knew he needed to see her again, so he’d rushed after her to get her number, albeit under false pretenses. He’d sent her a transcription, just like he’d promised, and she got it done in record time and with such professionalism and perfection he fell even harder for her.

 Forcing his mind back to the present, Peeta shook his head and smiled sincerely at Jenny’s mother. “No, she’s fine. She hasn’t been sick since the first time I examined her over a year ago. You’ve done a wonderful job keeping her healthy, Ms. Rogers, but I really need you to only bring her in for well checks and if she has a fever.” Peeta pats Glimmer’s hand and gently removes it from his bicep. “There are sick children that need the spaces you frequently reserve for your healthy girl.”

 He sees the flash of irritation at being rejected in her dark blue eyes. “I’m only concerned for the well being of Jenny, Dr. Mellark. I want to catch germs and such before it turns into something worse.” She huffs and hastily makes her way out of the room. He wonders if it’s too much to hope she won’t be back unless Jenny needs real medical attention. He finds himself wishing Jenny all the health in the world.

  Seeing patient after patient drug the day out like never before. Peeta knew it was because Katniss was waiting at the end of it. He hadn’t been able to get his mind off her. Every little girl with dark curls or little boy with blonde hair he treated made him think of what it was he really wanted. What he’d put off for long enough. And whom he wanted it with. It was way too soon - way too soon - to be thinking that way. He knew this, yet something deep in his bones whispered to him that this was it.

 Now, standing in front of her door, his palms were sweaty and his heartbeat was erratic. He wondered if maybe it had all been a fluke. She wasn’t so charming or beautiful or magnificent as his lonely heart made her out to be. He would know any second.

 He didn’t feel the door under the weight of his knuckles as he knocked. He couldn’t feel his toes or swallow. His mouth was drier than sun-baked dirt. He barely registers the door swinging open, light from the inside shining out into the dark hall, bathing this dark-headed beauty in a swath of angelic light. She’s wearing a sweater dress that fits her like a glove and flat riding boots. Her hair is braided and hangs over one shoulder.

 No, his mind had definitely not played tricks on him. How could she be even more radiant than she was only 24 hours ago?

 “Peeta.” Katniss is first to speak and Peeta feels his mouth flop open and closed, like a fish out of water. He finally manages to whisper her name. He clears his throat and tries again.

 “Katniss. You look lovely.” He remembers the flowers he bought just minutes ago at the grocer on the corner, and holds a bouquet of white daisies out to her. Her gorgeous gray eyes widen and a full smile appears on her pink lips. He thinks about kissing those lips.

 Slow down, buddy, he tells himself, taking a slight step back.

 She takes the flowers from him, her eyes darting back and forth between them and Peeta. “Thank you. I’ll be right back,” she says sincerely, and disappears only for a short time, but to Peeta it feels like an eternity.

 “Ready?” he asks when she reappears in her winter coat. She nods and he holds out his arm for her. When she slides her hand through the crook of his elbow, he places his hand over hers, berating himself for wearing gloves. Practically speaking, it’s freezing out and he’d be crazy not to. But impractically speaking, he could be touching her skin right now because her hands were bare.

 “Would you like my gloves?” he asks her before they step into the cold. She gives him a shy smile that heats his already melted heart.

 “I’ll be fine, thank you,” she says. Peeta keeps his hand over hers the entire two blocks it takes for them to walk to Eno’s Pizza, a trendy but casual place he picked for their first date. Or is it their second? He doesn’t really care as long as it turns into more.

 They sit in a cozy booth across from each other. Peeta would rather sit right beside her, thigh touching thigh, fingers and gazes locked in silent affirmation, but he doesn’t let on that he’s already planned their wedding, booked their honeymoon, and built their first home in his head. There’s a porch swing out front and a trash compactor in the kitchen. It’s crazy even for him to consider, yet it’s there and he can do nothing to stop it.

 Katniss orders white wine and Peeta orders red. They share a pie topped with goat cheese, basil and proscuitto as Peeta tells her all about working with kids and the crazy things they say. Katniss laughs, and to him it’s the perfect harmony he’s been missing for so long to accompany his lonely melody. It’s so cliche, he thinks, but they’d make such beautiful music together.  

 “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she hesitates, the lovely smile slipping from her lips. “It’s just been on my mind all day…”

 “Ask me anything,” he encourages her. He’d tell her whatever she wants to know; his most intimate secrets, his bank account and social security numbers. The names he’s chosen for their four children. Okay, well, he doesn’t actually have that information.

 Yet.

 “Why were you alone on Valentine’s night?”

 Peeta drops his eyes, but his lips curl up into a smile. Fate isn’t going to let him off the hook. No time like the present to be honest, he guesses, but Katniss rushes to fill the silence he let fall between them.

 “It’s just… hard to believe a guy like you would be alone. You’re a catch, Peeta. Is there… someone else? Was she not able to come?”

 The reluctant way she asks the question moves his heart to his throat. He suddenly wants her to know without a doubt that there is no one else. “Actually, I… haven’t seen anyone seriously in a decade.” There was the office Christmas party last year, and that one graduation party where he’d let loose for just that night. Oh, and his brother’s bachelor party where he’d made out with the stripper like a teenager, until his training had kicked the alcohol glazed-frenzy to the curb and reminded him of communicable diseases that were rampant in professions such as hers.

 Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open, as he expected it would. As his would have if the situation had been reversed. “I’ve just been career focused, and I know it’s time to add more to my life, so I made the reservation at Terilli’s months ago, hoping I would have a date by then. Or even a fiance,” he laughs nervously and his hand reaches to run the back of his neck and he glances up at her, surprised by the emotion in her eyes. “Anyway, it, uh, kind of snuck up on me and I found myself still alone.” He laughs lightly, nervously. “It takes months to get into that place, so I went. And then you showed up. And sat down in the seat I reserved for my plus one.”

 Katniss has a far away gaze in her eyes and doesn’t say anything for a few beats. Peeta’s heart hammers in his chest. He didn’t outright say fate had brought them together, but if she asked he wasn’t going to lie.

 The waitress comes over to collect their plates and show them the dessert menu. Katniss declines the sweets and Peeta follows suit, sad that the night seems to be coming to a close.

It ends too quickly for him, and he can only hope she feels the same.

 It’s brutally cold outside, but he slows their walk back to Katniss’s apartment, desperate to do anything that prolongs their time together. They take the stairs lazily, fingers entwined, arms swinging between them. No gloves were worn on the walk back. As a doctor, Peeta should have insisted she borrow his, but he couldn’t resist wanting to be the one that kept her warm.  

 They stop in front of her door. He wants to kiss her. Been thinking about it all night, but Katniss’s eyes dart around the hallway, landing on his every now and then. He wonders what she’s thinking, but he becomes concerned when she uses her hand to fan herself, looking flushed and a little faint. His doctor instincts kick in.

 “Are you alright?” He touches her forehead with the back of his hand, then moves it to her warm cheek.  

 “Y-yes. I’m fine just a little,” she swallows, “overheated.”

 “You don’t feel feverish,” he says seriously, stepping closer as he wraps his hands around the base of her neck, thumbs snaking over underneath her jaw to feel the glands there.

 “It’s not, I’m not… sick-sick. I’m just, you make me nervous. That’s all. I really like you, Dr. Mellark.” Her voice deepens when she says his professional name. It makes some things - like his heart - turn to mush, and other things turn very rigid.

 “Lucky for you, I can prescribe the exact remedy you need,” he says smoothly, his thumbs brushing back and forth under her jaw. He can feel her swallow, see her eyes darken as her lashes shutter with the same need he’s feeling.

 “Should I take some aspirin and call you in the morning?” Her voice is rough now, deeper than before.

 “Not even close,” he whispers, dipping his head and brushing his lips against hers. They’re as soft as they look. She parts them for him and the tip of her tongue darts out. He stifles a groan, ignoring the intensity he really wants to give into, instead moving his lips to the corner of her mouth, placing tender kisses across her cheeks, eyelids, brows, and finally landing on her nose. “Kisses. Lots and lots of kisses,” he says as he pulls away.

 “I’m not cured, yet,” she admits, a small, playful smile dancing in her eyes and on those soft lips he now knows he’ll never tire of. “In all honesty, I may never be cured.”  

 “Then feel free to kiss me anytime you want,” he says, backing her into the door before finally giving in to the drug they both need.

[allollipoppins]

Chapter 3: Yuuri/Georgi

Ch. 3 of the YoI villain AU is now up! Read it here on AO3

Georgi Popovich, head designer of Aurora House, somehow managed to juggle creating ten collections in both men and womenswear, and designing Yuuri's costume in the span of six months.

Though in fairness, he would have gone much faster if it hadn't been for the fact that, according to Yuuri and Eros, Georgi and he were close... friends.

“Georgi, you'll spoil the makeup.”

“It was already ruined in the first place.” the Russian man growled back, proceeding to wipe as much lipgloss off Yuuri's lips as he could – with his own lips and tongue.

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Yuuri couldn't help but chuckle. “Don't let Eros hear you.” Though he was ready to bet he'd heard everything.

At least, the undignified scoff they both heard from the other side of the dressing room was enough of an answer to make them giggle. “Too late,” Georgi noted, sending him a wink as he turned to draw the curtains. “Come on, let me show you my latest creation.” He extended his open palm towards Yuuri, a clear invitation to follow and – in Yuuri's opinion – annoy Eros further.

As if it hadn't been enough of him to barge on them making out on the couch earlier, tv playing in the background and Vicchan being the only one happy to see him. The only reason why he hadn't bothered to kick him out was because he knew of the bond existing between his master and the designer.

The two of them had met while they were both in college completing their degrees, Yuuri double majoring in criminology and journalism while Georgi had elected design as his own. Which, at first sight, was as evident as the sun rose in the east. A single look at the designer-in-the-making and his questionable, self-taught-and-applied makeup techniques was enough to make people doubt him.

Yuuri, on the other hand, hadn't heard much about Georgi until the latter asked him firsthand to model for him. He hadn't believed him at first, and it took much prompting before Georgi could get him in his studio for test shoots and fittings. From there, they'd escalated from model and designer, to study pals, and to the one and only person the other could consider as a real friend, someone with whom to go to the cinema or have ice cream and shopping dates.

Though their relationship was … complicated to say the least. Not in the twisted way he shared with Eros, but not as innocent either.

Long before finding Phichit again in the headquarters of the crime magazine they both worked for now, Georgi had been there for him. The friend who always gave him a pep talk, the friend who talked him into going shopping or watching a movie, the friend who knew his favorite ice-cream flavor and bought him one without needing to ask, the friend who waited on Yuuri at 3AM whenever he felt under the weather.

The friend who slept with him to forget how his fiancée cheated on him with another guy.

“Let's get you out of these clothes, shall we?” Georgi's suggestion shook him of his reverie, and he nodded at the unrequited innuendo the words carried.

Eros stood obediently on the sidelines, intently watching as Georgi started to unbutton the tuxedo, enough for Yuuri to feel his eyes burning holes into his back... or rather,  Georgi's, who had somehow decided to check Yuuri's measurements again and analyse the clothing.

“Relax pup,” Georgi assured without looking at either of them, “just checking if the clothes are a good fit. Don't want you master wandering around looking like a trashcan, do you?”

Eros snorted. “As if I cared. Yuuri looks good in anything he wears.”

The latter was certain his cheeks were burning after that statement, a clear contrast with the crisp white shirt the stylist had dressed him in. Georgi huffed, but seemed to ponder his words. His analytical eyes wondered on Yuuri's form, taking him in wholly.

“Come to think of it, you're not completely wrong, Eros...”

“Guys, please.” Yuuri muttered, head lowered under the praise – or was it teasing? Hard to tell given both men's proclivity to shower him with compliments on occasion (meaning, on a regular-enough basis).

“Sorry,” they both echoed, one a little more honest than the other. Once Yuuri was down to his boxers and had a robe draped over his shoulders, Georgi stepped away to reach for a bag on the nearest table. With one flick of his hand, he beckoned both Eros and Yuuri to step closer to look at what was inside the bag.

Yuuri watched with bated breath as Georgi handed him its contents. “You go ahead. Think of it as an early birthday present.”

He tentatively unwrapped the garments out of their plastic and paper wraps, like a teenager warily unpacking his Christmas gifts, and laid each item on the table. He was so focused on the results he hadn't noticed Eros moving closer to him, standing behind his back. He mentally acknowledged the hand placed on his shoulder, as if in silent support.

Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Yuuri took in his newest costume.

Black, form-fitting and made of a fabric he'd never seen before. It had the brillance of silk, but the elasticity of spandex – which, thank God, wasn't what the entire costume was made of. The simplistic top and assorted pants were adorned with various belts, one tied high where his right tight would be underneath the clothes, and the others served to tighten a leather corset, the wide buckles at the front accentuating the curves of his chest and waist. The shoulder pads and gauntlets Georgi had given him were also made of leather, comfortable and snug enough to let him move at ease without straining his muscles, he observed as he rotated his shoulders back and forth in a circular motion. A dark hood attached to the top completed the outfit, its cowl hiding the bottom part of his face and leaving his chocolate eyes visible. Maybe he'd ask to have it removed, Yuuri mused, thinking that it would smear the makeup Georgi usually applied. He voiced his thought out loud.

"Actually, I'd rather you removed it halfway, if you don't mind. It's true that I should have thought about that earlier but ey, I just figured it would look cooler that way."

“Well yeah I get that, but you do realize that I'm going to wear a hood right? As in, there's no need for me to put makeup on?”

“The makeup's just for insurance. Besides, with my expert hands, it won't be removed so easily. You of all people should know that.” The underlying tone of knowledge lingering in his voice brought a blush to Yuuri's cheeks. Of course he'd know.

He silently turned back to his new acquisition, not quite sure what to make of it.

To say he was a little surprised by the costume was an understatement.

Georgi, the fantastic partner in crime that he was, had tried to convince him to go for something a little more excentric, but the (first) final result had reminded him more of the girl from The Ring than anything else, almost giving him a heart attack when he took a look at himself in a mirror. The next result had been an oddly elegant cross between Slappy the Puppet and a Japanase Noh-Theatre actor, but remained every bit as creepy as its fictional counterparts. Next had been the tuxedo he'd been wearing instants ago, a better fit but the makeup hadn't done him justice either. He hadn't quite seemed like the Saw puppet, but he'd looked the part.

So it was a surprise to see this final product come out as minimalistic and yet so beautifully crafted, plus it gave him enough anonymity to be unrecognizable and unidentifiable to the public eye.

In short, he loved it. Yuuri's disguise wasn't as intricate and complex as Georgi probably would have wished it to be, but it was for the better. Who knew, maybe one day he'd be able to put the dresses and kimonos Georgi had specially designed for him to good use.

Which reminded him.... “But I thought you wanted me to wear a kimono.”

Georgi shrugged. “That was before I realized how awkward it would be for you to move. Unless you want me to add a few touches to it, but in the end you don't have to don the entire outfit if you don't want to.” The statement took Yuuri off guard. He knew Georgi to be someone who never did things halfway; either he was fully involved in his work, mind body and soul, or he dropped it the second.

“But Georgi -” Yuuri started to protest.

“No won't do, Yuuri, I can't have you waltzing down Detroit streets when you trip on your own two feet, can I? That would be rude of me.”

Yuuri didn't have the gall to correct him or feel offended. Georgi, if not all of his acquaintances were aware of his legendary clumsiness. Years of ballet training could only do so much for his form. Besides, it was nice to know that in spite of all fashion codes currently taking over the world, Georgi was still considerate enough to keep in mind his particular … needs.

“Still,” he sighed, “you took so much time just to prepare this outfit, knowing that you also had your fashion show to plan, models to recruit, and God, don't even get me started on – ”

Yuuri didn't get time to go on. In fact it was Eros who cut him off, forgotten in the background while he'd been watching the exchange between his master and Georgi.

“Okay,” he sighed, “what was it this time? What made you decide to change the costume on a whim??”

Georgi ignored the fake tiredness but very much real annoyance seeping through his voice in favor of circling Yuuri in long strides, taking in the outfit under different angles.

“The problem wasn't so much that it didn't look good; it would've been be a little impractical, although according to my measurements and adjustments you could have easily pulled off a jetée in those tuxedo pants.”

“Why would he want to do a jetée while he's slitting someone's throat? That would be awesome, sure, but really.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Eros, I think you have the wrong person here.”

“Anyway, let's try it on, then we'll see what to do with your makeup.” Georgi nudged him forward, gently removing the robe from his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground at Yuuri's feet.

To Yuuri's surprise, Eros turned to leave. “You're not staying, Eros?”

His shadow turned back at him to shrug. “I'm on patrol duty in a few minutes, and I don't want to miss anything out. Also,” he stopped before crossing the threshold, “I'd rather undress you by myself when I get back home to see you in that.” He winked at Yuuri and sent a smirk Georgi's way, who replied with one of his own, before stepping out of the studio.

Silence settled in as the sound of his companion's footsteps faded into the distance. Georgi seized the opportunity to grab Yuuri's clothes, stretching them enough to help him into the pants, which were as tight as he'd imagined them to be, but not uncomfortably so. For the top Yuuri bend down slightly, arms stretched up while Georgi let the fabric slide over his arms then onto the rest of his frame. He repressed the small giggle building in his throat when Georgi's fingers brushed his sides, tickling him lightly. He held his breath while the corset was adjusted, but to his surprise it didn't bring any discomfort. He slipped on the gloves and assorted leather belts, turning on himself to catch his reflection in the mirrors. But before he could, Georgi pivoted him so they were face to face.

“Last detail,” he explained, and Yuuri shivered when his fingers dug under the high collar, softly brushing his neck, and brought up the cowl to cover his mouth. For a moment, Yuuri was almost scared to lose his ability to breathe, but the knot that formed at the back of his throat dissolved as he realized he could easily take in breath, even with the cloth covering his mouth and nose.

When he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror behind him, he could hardly recognize himself. Not only due to the fact that this outfit covered most of his body and didn't appear to give away his identity. The garments clung to him like a second skin, but in a pleasant way that didn't make his skin itch. He wondered how it was possible, for him to manage to pull off such a look. His reflection brought back childhood memories of ninja cartoons and fictional assassins in the movies Mari would take him to see back when... back then.

“You're so beautiful.”

He twisted on his toes in time for Georgi to pull the cowl down, and place his hands on each side of his face.

This was so intimate. It didn't feel uncomfortable, not the way his own, first future interactions with Minami would be. Georgi was one of the few besides Eros allowed to see him like that. Bare, so vulnerable under the layers of clothes and makeup that hit his other self.

Georgi was always oh so gentle, never coaxing him into things he knew Yuuri would dislike. And even when he thought the Russian would pull off a nasty trick, he'd ended up having fun against his initial preconceptions.

“You're quite the challenge, Katsuki Yuuri, did you know that?” He asked, staring directly into Yuuri's eyes.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “How so?”

“Always being so mean to me and to yourself, forcing me into whatever business it is you have with that other gigolo”, he leaned his forehead against Yuuri's. “I don't like this, Yuuri, whatever it is you do. You know what I think, don't you?”

Yuuri sighed, pressing back against Georgi, his own hands moving up to Georgi's chest and digging int the fabric of his crisp white shirt. “I know you don't approve of this, Georgi, but I couldn't picture myself doing anything else. And I could not think of anyone better to do the job.”

Gerogi frowned. “Are we even talking about the same person at this point?”

Yuuri snickered. “I meant you, silly, not Eros. I”m choosing you for this because I know you're the best at what you do. Besides,” Yuuri brought his hands up to circle them around Georgi's neck, pulling him closer to whisper in his ear, “what kind of best friend would I be, keeping you out of these things?”

Georgi sighed with finality, knowing he wouldn't be able to talk Yuuri into changing his mind, for one. “Ugh. Fine, I'll do it, but don't come crying when he stabs you in the back,” he emphatically insisted, Yuuri knowing without asking who exactly he was referring to.

Yuuri hummed as Georgi pulled away and guided him towards his vanity. Georgi motioned for him to sit, which he complied with Georgi still brushing his cheek.

“The stories are real, I see. Japanese truly have naturally soft skin.”

Yuuri felt the color rushing to his cheeks. “We – we do not! I don't where you got that from, but that's not true. At least I never heard of it.”

Georgi chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, now you know. But just in case, I'd rather have you moisturized before you go out there. After all, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure your skin is properly treated?”

He sounded playful, but Yuuri knew him to be dead-serious, judging from Georgi's expression alone. He'd be damned if his personal makeup artist didn't follow his own rules.

Yuuri shrugged, but teased him back. “The kind of friend to whom I'd ask “who are you and what have you done to my Georgi?”, I guess.”

Georgi paused in the middle of blending the cream. “Your Georgi, huh?” he mused. He then extended his cream-coated fingers towards Yuuri's face, the other moving under his chin in a gentle but stable grip. “I like the sound of that. Although it's not like you to be territorial.”

“Not territorial,” Yuuri corrected, holding as still as possible while Georgi's expert fingertips deftly dabbed at his forehead and temples. “Just concerned.”

“You shouldn't be,” Georgi applied small batches on his cheeks in a freckle pattern, then booped Yuuri's nose with an additional spot of cream to distract him; the action made him smile. “I'm getting over An – I mean over her. Over it.” Georgi covered his light stumble by lowering his head, focusing on blending the product with his fingers.

Yuuri stilled. There was no denying Georgi was getting better at this: moving on was never an easy progress, and witnessing as he was taking steps forward was reassuring. Slow and steady wins the race, as the common saying went. Though Yuuri would have preferred him to get a grip earlier. His best friend didn't deserve to shed tears on such an undeserving woman.

He hummed, willing himself to go back to another subject. “You'll make me pretty then, won't you?”

“Oh honey, I don't need that do make you look nice, you already do a fine work on your own.” Georgi cups his face between his hands, looking him directly in the eyes. “Just ensuring that I'll be the only one seeing your real face.”

Yuuri laughed. “Now you're the one being territorial.”

Georgi grinned back. “Not territorial, no. Just concerned.” The Russian designer patted his cheeks, testing the texture of the finished product. He must have been satisfied, for he pulled away to reach for the rest of his supplies in his makeup case. Yuuri mourned the loss of the warm, gentle fingers on his skin. “Let's move to the real deal, then,” Georgi shot him a sideway smile that Yuuri corresponded. “Let's.”

Yuuri kept his eyes trained on Georgi, even though he knew the designer not to be paying attention to his surroundings. Right now, his sole focus was Yuuri, and Yuuri only. Knowing so pulled at something inside Yuuri.

The bastard was right. He sure could be possessive when he wanted to be.

He stayed as still as possible when Georgi started to apply the foundation, one that was far paler than the one he usually used but looked convenient enough. At least this time it wasn't face paint for clown makeup. He let his eyes close and his mind drift elsewhere as Georgi tapped on various spots on his face, applying small batches one at a time, the cool liquid losing its thickness when Georgi handily blended it on his skin, always with a light and gentle touch.

Yuuri opened his eyes as Georgi pulled away to grab the hightlighter. One glance at the mirror made him access that he definitely looked pale, almost white, his complexion looking closer to that of a Caucasian male save for his normal features. Georgi's fingers under his chin made him face him again.

“Pull your cheeks in,” he directed, and Yuuri sucked in a breath, pulling in and biting the insides of his cheeks. Georgi brushed each cheek with a powder that, if his eyes weren't failing him, was a few shades darker than the foundation, though still faint. Georgi added the finishing touches with blush, using his fingertips to spread the texture higher in a triangluar shape. Yuuri raised an eyebrow when he next took out a crayon.

“Freckles? Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely! The makeup brought out your lovely cheekbones, it would be a shame not to highlight them further, even though they'll be hidden.” With this said, he delicately pecked Yuuri's cheeks with the crayon, before looking satisfied with his work and picking another crayon. Yuuri stole a few peeks: he did look cute with the tiny freckles painting near-invisible constellations on his face. One would have to come closer to see them. Clever boy.

“Eyes this time.”

Georgi followed the line of his eyebrows with a dark pencil the color of his hair, then grabbed a liner.

“Look up.” Yuuri did just so, his friend applying a thin line of khôl on each external lower eyelid. Once he could look down again, Georgi placed his thumb on a temple, silently motioning for him to close his eyes. He let himself be maneuvered, Georgi taking his time to run the liquid eyeliner along the lid directly above his lashes.

“Eyeshadow and mascara?” He heard the Russian ask from behind his closed eyes. Not knowing quite exactly how it was turning out, Yuuri shrugged. “You're the professional, you make the decision.”

“I'll take that as a yes, in that case.” Georgi remarked graciously, a beat passing until a spongy tool made contact with Yuuri's eyelid, spreading eyeshadow along the line previously drawn with eyeliner. Georgi made a quick work of the other eyelid too, then told him: “You can open your eyes now, I'll get the mascara.”

Feeling the bright light in his eyes again was a little painful, adding to the tiredness that was starting to weight down on him in addition to the thick mascara being applied on his lashes. It was getting late, after all. Georgi would probably have to give him a lift.

“Do you want to stay overnight?” Georgi's question caught him off guard, just as he was getting started on his lips. Had he absentmindedly voiced his thoughts out loud?

“No it's fine, I don't want to be a nuisance. Surely you must have a lot of work to do and I don't want to keep you busy.”

“That's not a problem.You could never be bothersome, even if you tried.” Georgi traced his lips with a red crayon – Yuuri guessed the shade as “Blood” - , then proceeded to coat them with a lipstick of a similar shade. Yuuri had to open up his mouth so Georgi could have an exact access to his lips, having decided long ago to only paint the middle so his puckered lips would form a heart. He pulled them together, rubbing before releasing them with a loud “pop” that resonated inside the otherwise quiet room. Realizing suddenly how obscene his action had been, Yuuri's cheeks colored, certain they were as red as his lips.

Georgi, thank God, hadn't seemed to notice nor mind. “Last touch,” he only concluded, grabbing a beige and brown pencils and tracing two parallel lines on Yuuri's chin, running from the bottom corner of each side of the red heart. He took turn using the pencils, coloring the lines alternatively and shading to have them burst, as if they were part of Yuuri's face.

He finally sighed, pushing back in his chair and away from Yuuri to watch him. “There, all done!”

“How do I look, then?” Yuuri asked, wincing a little when he sat up, having stayed in the comfortable chair for much too long.

Georgi grinned in response, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Why don't you see it for yourself?”

When he saw the transformation, Yuuri gasped. He had known Georgi to be capable of miracles and making some of the best illusions out of reality, but he hadn't thought him capable of transforming into a human-sized, realistic-looking puppet. Somehow, Georgi had managed to pull quite a feat: he'd transformed him into a ventriloquist dummy. The words alone, he thought as he stepped closer to the glass, didn't do it justice. The name, used on its own, appealed to a world Yuuri only associated with darkness and children's nightmares, and yet when he looked at him he felt none of the horror he'd expected to experience upon gazing at his final makeover. He didn't remind himself of a Goosebumps villain or a demonic clown straight out of a freak show. He reminded himself of the precious dolls one kept in glass cases in museums, for the sake of preserving their beauty from the outer world.

“And what do you think of the final result?” Georgi asked softly, his chest pressing against Yuuri's back.

Yuuri swallowed the lump in his throat. “These are my strings. Puppets are only free when they love their strings, aren't they?”

The kiss Georgi pressed to his neck made him shiver, though not enough to take his eyes off his reflection.

Georgi hummed appreciatively in his ear. “I guess so. I take it it is to your taste, Puppet Master?” Georgi murmured.

Yuuri shook his head. “I don't like it. I adore it.”

[deardazaiblog]

Chapter One: Suitable Attire for Thievery

Beatrice Lord was an unremarkable person.

And, at this moment, draped in a ballgown in the British Museum Library, she was an extremely screwed person unless she managed to find ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’.  

The constant threat of being housed at the expense of Queen and country was terrifying, but it was nothing compared to what might happen should the book not get to its intended recipient. Holmes was a scary bastard on a good day. The seriousness with which he’d insisted she retrieve the book for him was enough to make Beatrice focused in her task.

Tonight was supposed to be all about Shakespeare. One of Beatrice’s constant loves. The British Museum was hosting a gala to simultaneously celebrate the opening of their new Shakespearean exhibit and honour the man 400 years after his death. It was a once in a lifetime event. Populated by people, who could politely be described as rabid Shakespeareans. Beatrice could be at the gala, discussing Shakespeare, drinking champagne or talking to Jack.

Instead, here she was trying to find this damned book. ‘Vindictive arsehole,’ Beatrice muttered to the spectre of Holmes that had loomed over her this evening.

Holmes’ spectre judged her every move, as she despaired at the futility of trying to be inconspicuous and quiet in a dress that was too large and too heavy to ever be either of those things. It also judged her for unwillingness to part with the tickets. For being a useless thief.

Figment of her imagination or not, the sense of disapproval was strong enough to make her shudder.

For weeks, she had tried her best to learn to be a successful pickpocket. She had shaken all the way through it. The idea of failure was not something she had ever tolerated in herself. In contrast, this led to a rising anxiety to perfectly execute a task that she was ill-equipped for. But raw determination had led her to obsess over it until she could do it to the absolute best of her ability. Which wasn’t anywhere near as capable as she hoped it would be.

Tonight, she had successfully managed to get a key card to the library and she was proud of herself. So what if she’d chosen the most lecherous and drunk member of staff? She had been instructed to use any means necessary. Holmes had even stated that her ‘womanly wiles’ should be put to good use. Beatrice was tempted to hit him over the head with a fry pan in a vain attempt to convince him that she didn’t possess any such thing.  

CREAK

Beatrice turned around suddenly, four inch heels being no hinderance to her balance. Many years of dancing lessons as a child and a bizarre need to walk around on the tip of her toes had allowed for near perfect balance in all situations. She glanced around the room, but there was nothing else but the shadows and the annoying spectre of Holmes, who was currently blowing bubbles in the corner.

Her breathing hitched a little. This was ridiculous. The worst that would happen would be that she’d end up accommodated at Her Majesty’s expense. Bring shame on her family. End up as the bitch for some overly aggressive woman, who…

She was getting ahead of herself.

Beatrice had never liked hide and seek as a child. The prospect of being caught and found had scared her witless. Tonight was that just amped up to a thousand. Her heart was thumping out of her chest, the sound so deafening that she was convinced anyone in the atrium should have been able to hear it.

thumpthumpthumpthump

She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and concentrated. Opening her eyes, more determined than before, she made her way to the row of shelves where Holmes had assured her the book would be.

‘Bastard,’ she cursed.  

Looking up along the row of books, Beatrice knew exactly where the book was. On the mezzanine. Because according to Holmes and his spectre, who was looking remarkably pleased with himself while standing on his head, that was easy to access. In all other circumstances Beatrice would have agreed, had she not been wearing a ballgown.

Never in the history of the invention of full skirts had anyone ever considered the possibility of the person wearing them to have to abscond up a ladder. Beauty and practicality were on tenuous terms at the best of times. A long held dispute in which neither was prepared to give ground. Tonight making her expedition impossible.

Beatrice took quick stock of the situation.

She needed that book.

She couldn’t leave here without it.

She couldn’t get it.

sigh

She reached for the ladder, freezing as a hand came out of the darkness and covered her mouth.

Beatrice fought against the panic that erupted within. Her breathing was short and shallow and the thump of her heart was now all she could hear.

thumpthumpthumpthump

Why hadn’t she let Holmes do this? She should have. She really should have. She could have given him the tickets. Could have come and seen this exhibit on another day. She could be home with a cat on her lap and a cup of tea in hand, instead of being here and now.

The closeness of her captor was claustrophobic. They were too warm. Too rough. Too musky. She breathed hard, trying to find something to hold ground in the storm that was raging around her.   Leaning down, her captor’s breath was hot on her neck as they spoke.    

‘Care to explain Princess?’ the voice whispered in her ear.

Beatrice had two choices now, to panic or to be relieved. Neither appealed. The absolute last person she had wanted to find out about her little and highly illegal sojourn tonight was Jack. Leaving his side about 15 minutes ago, she had hoped that she wouldn’t be missed. She had deployed the ‘hot blonde’ for that purpose. Beatrice should have known that wouldn’t work. Jack, for all his interesting and charming faults, couldn’t be easily distracted by a ‘hot blonde’.  

‘mmmfghmmm,’she failed to articulate against his hand.

‘What was that?’ he asked.

Jack removed his hand from Beatrice’s mouth and she turned around to look at him.

She was wondering what demon had possessed her to insist that he wear a three piece tuxedo. Because now, here she was, literally caught in the act, and the only thought that was running through her mind was how despicably gorgeous he looked.

Jack assessed the situation before him. The same situation where he had just found his reluctant date in the British Museum Library. He’d been suspicious when Beatrice had deployed the ‘hot blonde’. The last time she’d pulled that one him, she’d come back from a tea shop in Paris with a small country’s worth of tea.

He was somewhat impressed to find her here. There was something exciting about the fact that her obsession of all things literary had driven her to a life of crime. Or one of some serious mischief. The possible ramifications of it seemed almost too good to be true.

‘If you’d removed that filthy hand of yours...,’ Beatrice grumbled, shaking herself off and looking at him, she asked, ‘What the hell are you doing in here?’

‘My date left me, you see and I was feeling a little lonesome.’

‘Right, of course you were.’

Jack leant in close and took Beatrice by the waist. His breath lingered on her neck again, but this time it was more than welcome.

‘Terribly lonesome,’ he whispered into her ear.

She breathed him in deeply, thinking of the three piece suit. Remembering where they were, she pushed him away sharply.

‘Jack! Neither of us are meant to be here and I’m not about to be caught for public indecency.’

‘Who said anything about public indecency? It’s only the two of us.’

Jack smiled. Beatrice simply looked back at him, with an appropriately withering expression.

‘How did you get in here?’ she asked.

‘How did you?’ he countered.

Beatrice bit her lip and very determinedly didn’t look at him. The sapphire ring on her finger became of endless interest to her in this moment. Jack sidled up to her, putting his hands on her waist, pulling her close.

‘Come on Princess, I’ll show you mine...’ Jack purred.

‘I sweet talked the most lecherous employee I could find, so I could swipe his I.D. And then I put my womanly wiles to good use to get passed the guard at the door.’  

Jack raised his eyebrows.

‘No seriously Princess, how did you do it?’

Beatrice simply smiled. Jack furrowed his brow. Beatrice continued smiling.

‘Okay,’ Jack replied, hands up, ‘I won’t ask. I must admit I had wondered how long it would be before your literary exploits led you to a life a crime.’

‘You had?’ Beatrice asked.

‘I’m easily bored. As I’m sure your expenditure on books is far more than your income. It seemed the next logical step.’

Beatrice nodded at that.

Looking back up at the shelf. A plan was forming in her head. She couldn’t complete the task at hand and rather than being concerned about the legalities, Jack was quite relaxed about the whole affair. So it only made sense to put him to good use. After all, it was a task Jack could complete much more easily than she could. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with admiring his rather nice arse as he climbed up a ladder in particularly well fitting pants.

‘Jack, can you do me a favour?’

‘Anything, Princess.’

‘I need the copy of ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’ that’s up on the mezzanine. Could you get it? Please?’

Jack looked up the ladder towards the mezzanine and then back to Beatrice in her ballgown. Raising his eyebrows, he wondered how she’d been planning to do that before he got there. No wonder he’d managed to catch her unawares, he was fairly sure Beatrice had been working very hard at overcoming the laws of physics to achieve that. Jack knew it was futile, that dress and that ladder were never going to be compatible. Beautiful and all as the dress was, it screamed impracticality. ‘Sure,’ he replied.

He had no issue with stealing the book. To Jack, the law was really just a suggestion. Lines marked in the sand, that were easily mutable with the right motivation. Beatrice’s reason for wanting it were intriguing but enough champagne and a sense of adventure were enough to leave his concerns for a later time.

Quickly and impossibly quietly, Jack climbed the ladder. Making sure to exaggerate the swing of his hips as he went. He wasn’t stupid and knew very well when Beatrice was looking at his arse. With a wink in her direction, Jack scanned the shelves for the book. Running his finger along the titles, he came across the faded green spine of ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’. Tucking the smaller than expected book into his jacket, and turning with a flourish, he slid back down to Beatrice.

Jack’s absence, despite the nice distraction he made, was enough to put Beatrice back on edge. Her breathing was shallower than she would have liked and her heart had started its dance beat again. She smiled tentatively, to which, Jack patted his coat and smiled at her.

Beatrice returned the smile, brighter this time. They had the book. That was the only thing that mattered. Breathing and heart rates could be fixed at a later time with an abundance of champagne and some serious discussion about Shakespeare.

Also the absence of Homes’ spectre which was now making origami elephants on the shelf next to her.

‘Sorted,’ he said.

‘Great can we get out of here now?’

‘Just a moment Princess.’

Jack grabbed her round the waist, paused smiling devilishly at her. Then proceeded to dip her low for a kiss. A damn fine kiss. A kiss to end all kisses.

Then he had the nerve to stop kissing her. Beatrice narrowed her eyes at him.

‘Do you mind?’ she griped.

‘Just selling our cover.’

‘Not what I meant.’

‘Sorry? What was that?’

Beatrice rolled her eyes.

‘What cover?’ she asked.

‘What else would two young, very attractive, limber...’

‘Modest?’

‘Not so much,’ Jack replied, winking, ‘people be doing in a dimly lit room?’

Beatrice shrugged, agreeing.

An illicit tryst in a darkened room was believable. Running her fingers through her hair, making sure to mess it up a little. This was their cover and she was going to sell it to the best of her ability.

Looking at Jack, she bit her lip. Then walking over to him, brought him in for another kiss. It wasn’t as fiery as the one before, but there was a slow burn that made her toes curl. His too.

‘What was that for?’ he asked, eyes glazed a little. ‘Just selling our cover.’

‘It wasn’t sold before?’

‘Not enough.’

Trying to look appropriately ravished, Beatrice followed as they made the way back to the atrium. It wasn’t at all an excuse to check him out yet again. Next time she’d suggest he wear tails.

Jack paused and motioned at Beatrice as they got towards the door.

‘Gotta keep up Princess.’

Beatrice rolled her eyes at him and poked out her tongue. She knew that the hammering in her chest had subsided because he was here and she was grateful for it. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

She played her part as she was taken under his arm. Appropriately messing her hair up a bit more, she thought that after tonight she might have to rethink her position on womanly wiles. In this moment, she’d never felt sexier.

She raised an eyebrow when Jack handed over the I.D. to the guard near the main entrance to the museum. The exact I.D. she’d lifted to get into the room. Jack told the guard that they’d found it on the floor and to ensure that it made its way back to its rightful owner. The guard grateful for Jack’s honesty, told him he’d happily do it. Beatrice merely smiled politely, trying not to laugh at the situation.

‘What are you laughing about?’ Jack asked as they walked back to the atrium.

Beatrice threw her head back, and looked at him.

‘Does everyone you meet take you at your word?’

‘It’s a gift.’

‘One hell of a gift.’

‘You’ve never complained.’

She turned to face him. Leaning in, she spoke.

‘Maybe I’ll have to start…’

‘Please do.’

She spun around on her heels.

‘Not now though, because I have Shakespeare to get back to and he’s been so neglected this evening by me. I feel quite guilty.’

Jack looked at her. He was expecting more nerves. More panic but that had seemed to disappear as it was never there. He wondered what other tricks she had up her sleeves that he’d failed to notice before.

He caught up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist.

‘You know, I had prepared this whole speech about not being too conspicuous in your guilt once we left the room, but you’ve gone and ruined it.’

‘What do I have to feel guilty about?’

‘Nothing at all.’

‘Out of curiosity what would you have suggested?’ she asked.

‘Oh, you know. The act of two obviously in love people canoodling in dark corridors, rather than sneaking off for anything nefarious. Just in case someone makes the connection with the missing book and this evening.’

‘Good advice. How do you know such things?’

Jack smiled, winking.

‘I had a misspent youth.’

‘Robbing museums?’

‘Watching television.’

Beatrice laughed.

As they entered the atrium again, she swiped a glass of champagne as it went passed. The best thing about events like this, was the certainty that the alcohol would be up to standard. She revelled in the sensation of the bubbles on her tongue, and let the taste of blackberries linger at the back of her mouth before she swallowed.

She thought about the book safely tucked away in Jack’s coat. Fingering the glass of champagne, she felt a flush rise in her cheeks. The idea of being surrounded by a bunch of people, who had no idea what they’d just done was both terrifying and exhilarating.

‘Jesus Princess, remind me to play poker with you more often.’

‘Hmmm?’

‘You need some serious tutelage on what constitutes a good poker face. Or really any poker face at all.’

Beatrice sighed. Acting had never been her strong suit. Drama teachers had despaired at her ability to be read like a book. She cringed at the memory.

‘Come on. Let’s be good little Shakespeareans and mingle with the rest of the community shall we,’ Jack commented.

Beatrice lost sight of him quickly as they reentered the party. Jack was only an honorary Shakespearean and Beatrice was in it for the genuine article tonight. This was a once in a lifetime event and illegal sojourn notwithstanding she was going to make the most of it.

Tonight’s tickets had been purchased for a range of illicit and probably illegal sexual favours, and a case of Cristal that she’d had to mortgage her apartment to afford. This meant she had no intention to do nothing other than be the fangirl she very much was. She sought out discussions about Shakespeare’s effect modern language, his rampant neologism, his timeless characters and anything else that the people here were eager to discuss.

Nothing in the world could beat the sensation of the idea of being a complete nerd about something, with others that felt exactly the same way that you did.

Still, she hadn’t managed to break away to see the exhibit itself. Continually getting sidetracked by some conversation she’d overhear and interject herself into.

In a brief lull, determined not to be deterred she made her way towards the round room in the middle of the atrium. She heard a whisper about the commonality between Puck and Anansi, and was tempted to enter, purely to interject some Neil Gaiman into the discussion but she thought better of it. There was Shakespeare in that room and she would get there.

The exhibit room was a start contrast to the atrium. Where the atrium was brightly lit, with sharp lines and geometric patterns, this room was soft. Soft floors, soft light, soft everything. Cushioning for the treasures it held.

She wandered, completely enthralled by the exhibit. Each little scrap of paper and each folio that she came across more spectacular than the last and she knew there were tears welling in the corner of her eyes. She went to wipe them away, until she remembered that it had taken her three attempts not to look like a vampire when she’d done her eye make up and wasn’t prepared to ruin the effort now.

Then she came to Othello. It had been a favourite of hers, always in her opinion, a greater tragedy than Romeo and Juliet. Though as she’d grown older, she had considered it a great tragedy in that Othello could lose so much faith in Desdemona so easily. That nothing Desdemona could say could change the course of his actions. It made Othello quite the villain in her eyes, rather than the tragic hero many considered him to be.  

Gazing through the glass, she wished she could trace her fingers along the yellow pages, flipping through them gently. Inhaling the scent of the hundreds of years that they had accumulated. She could imagine the intense vanilla smell, mixed in with the woody scent of the parchment and she closed her eyes, breathing the imaginary scent in. ‘It is rather magnificent isn’t it?’ the person next to her asked.

Beatrice glanced up at the man who had come to stand next to her. He was of average height, average build, average everything really. If he hadn’t spoken to her, Beatrice wondered if she even would have noticed him. He may have only been less than a foot away but nothing gave away his presence. There was nothing about him that was worth noting.

‘It is indeed,’ she replied, looking back at Othello.

‘Language really is a magical thing. That it can convey so much with the right combination of words,’ he spoke again, ‘It really does have the power to shape the world.’

‘I agree. I always wished I could be a weaver of words, but sadly I lack any meaningful skill when it comes to writing prose,’ she responded.

‘I find that hard to believe, after all you are a rather remarkable character, Miss Lord.’

The hair on her neck immediately stood up. She could feel her heart begin to thump again, but she looked at Othello willing it to calm her before she spoke. ‘Do I know you?’ Beatrice asked, voice level.

The man chuckled. It wasn’t like Jack’s chuckle, which was warm and sincere, and made you feel good inside, this chuckle was cold, fake and made you feel exposed. It felt like twigs snapping under foot in the middle of winter. Shards of ice splintering off them as you brought your foot down. The temperature of the room seemed to have lowered significantly in that moment.  

Beatrice involuntarily folded her arms across herself. To warm herself up a little and to put up the barrier she needed. The unassuming air that had initially surrounded the man had disappeared and now, Beatrice saw him as the predator that he so obviously was.

‘We have a mutual acquaintance,’ he answered, looking at her, all coldness gone from his tone. His voice now friendly and affable and Beatrice second guessed her initial response to him.  

‘Really?’ she asked.

‘Indeed, a Mr. Holmes.’

Despite her resolve, the man intimidated her. She felt shivers run up and down her spine and closed her eyes again, willing them away.

‘Do I frighten you Miss Lord? It is not my intention to do so.’

‘No.’

‘Lying is not a talent of yours, but I am sorry, as mentioned I do not intend to frighten you. I simply worry about your wellbeing. Mr. Holmes has a tendency to be less than considerate of his compatriots,’he said, concern thick in his tone, and for an instant Beatrice wanted to believe him.

‘Thank you for your concern,’she answered, drily.  

‘It’s nothing,’ he said, smiling.  

Beatrice moved to leave, when she felt his hand on her arm. It was unexpectedly warm, and gentle, but she wasn’t about to be restrained no matter how polite her antagonist might be.

‘Remove yourself now,’ she snarled, attempting to remove her arm from his grip. Niceties completely foregone with given his invasion of her space.   ‘Give me the book, please,’ it sounded like a request but there was no doubt it was a demand.

‘What book?’

‘You know which book,’ the man said, smiling wider.  

‘I don’t have any book. Where would I put it?’ she said, looking directly at him, determined to meet his gaze.  

He narrowed his eyes at her and her bravado wavered a bit. She shuddered as he looked her over. It wasn’t lecherous but calculated and the sense of being exposed returned. As his eyes raked over her, she fought against the shiver he invoked and glared at him harder. She pulled on her arm, trying to break free without causing a commotion. He looked at her again, exhaled and loosened his grip a little.

Taking the opportunity, Beatrice quickly pulled her arm free and walked back out into the atrium, not looking back. She hoped that he wasn’t following but refused to look to see. She felt violated and didn’t want to encourage anymore interaction from him.

‘Do send my regards to Mr. Holmes,’ he called after her.  

Still ignoring him, she made her way back through the crowd. She spotted Jack talking to a woman that Beatrice didn’t have the time to be jealous of.

Interrupting the two of them, she came to stand next to Jack.

‘I think we ought to be leaving,’ was all she said.  

Jack looked at her and nodded. Turning back to the woman he was talking to, he made his apologies.

‘It’s been lovely, but we really should be off.’

Taking Beatrice’s hand in his, they made their way towards the front gates of the British Museum. It was a chilly evening, but Beatrice barely noticed. She had a purpose and that was to leave here as soon as possible. Her earlier excitement once again abated by the situation.

‘Back to your’s Princess?’ Jack asked.

Beatrice nodded.

Jack put two fingers in his mouth, whistling to hail a cab. As they got in, Jack gave her street address and they were off into the night. The lights of the British Museum disappearing as they turned the corner.

The ride back was silent. Beatrice looked at the window as London passed them by and wished that she’d opted for a weekend in Stratford-Upon Avon instead. She ignored the pointed looks that Jack was giving her.

Finally, when the key was turned in the lock and the door shut to Beatrice’s apartment, Jack asked the question. The question both of them knew was coming, but wasn’t about to be discussed in polite company where just anyone could hear.

‘So I stole ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’ from the British Museum’, you want to tell me why?’

©2018 Lindsay Watson

[evanaaml]

EVGN

Chapter 5: Duty Calls

The sun was now at its highest, and the weather warm and relaxing. In the forest, the wind was blocked by the trees, but the leaves made for enough shade to keep the group of hunters cool and comfortable.

Team EVGN had been walking for hours now, having made their way through the fields of grass and hills in good time. They had yet to run into any Grimm; a pleasant surprise to them. The defeat of the massive King Taijitu was assumed to be a cause of this. Removing a massive source of negativity in an area such as that caused lesser Grimm to move on.

The group had not stopped yet on their travel, but none of them complained. Ordinarily, a party this big would take a few breaks to rest, but their mission was too important to them to allow any delays. They understood this, and pressed on.

The hunters kept their spirits up by telling one another what they had been up to these past couple years. Though they made a point to call or write each other when they could, it was common for them to go silent for months at a time; this left them with a lot of catching up to do. Gael and Eallgréne in particular, having been working solo for those two years, had plenty to talk about.

“So, when I killed the Ursa, just before it smoldered, I took the selfie!”, Gael recalled, a smile across her face at the memory. The group laughed in response.

“Yeah, I remember getting the scroll picture when you sent it. Your photography has gotten a lot better!”, Violette said with a giggle.

“Yeah, still have it as your profile picture on mine”, Nickel said, showing his scroll to the group. It was of Gael, making a kitty face to the camera, with the corpse of a Ursa Major in the background. Catharsis stuck through its body. “Though if you ask me, the one I took with the Beowolf’s head was better”. Gael scoffed.

“You took yours after mine, mine was more original”, Gael said with a jokingly pompous tone.

“Lucky I was there to take it for you; I have my doubts that you would have been able to put your head in its mouth and taken the picture yourself in time before the body disappeared”, Violette explained. She then turned to Eallgréne. “How come you haven’t taken any photos like that, Eallgréne?”.

“Or any, for that matter”, Nickel said with a laugh. Eallgréne gave Nickel a quick glare and then turned his attention to Violette.

“Just don’t think to, I guess. Usually kill the Grimm from a distance anyway, hard to take a selfie with them in time”, Eallgréne answered. Violette thought of this for a moment, putting her finger to her chin.

“I suppose that’s a good point. What if you should put a small camera on the end of your arrow, by the feathers? That could do the trick!”, Violette suggested. Eallgréne chuckled; Violette was always creative in finding solutions to problems, if also impractical.

“I think that’d throw the arrow’s trajectory off a bit, but thanks for the suggestion”, Eallgréne replied.

You could have killed one in close range and done one, we all know you’re a great melee fighter", Gael remarked.

“Well I’m sorry that I don’t have the forethought of taking pictures of my kills. Maybe I’m too busy being a professional!”, Eallgréne replied with a smirk. Gael stuck her tongue out at the archer in reply, which made him and the others laugh. Gael then turned her attention to Violette and Nickel.

“What about you two? Last I heard from you, you took on that job hunting down those pirates off of Anima”, Gael asked. Nickel reflected on the mission.

“Oh yeah, that was something. Yeah, those pirates were raiding small cargo ships going between Anima and Sanus. They weren’t as tough as I would have hoped though”, Nickel recalled.

“Well, we DID take them by surprise on their own ship. No one would have expected that”, Violette argued. Nickel laughed.

“Hehe, remember when you made the captain think he was a Walrus?”, Nickel asked. Gael and Eallgréne looked to Violette in confusion. She sighed and covered her eyes, embarrassed. “Yeah, wicked funny! Used her semblance when the captain refused to stand down quietly. Next thing you know, he’s going on about eating oysters with some carpenter. The look on his crew’s faces!”. Nickel continued to laugh out loud, much to Violette’s dismay.

“You KNOW I’m not proud of that!”, Violette whined to her partner.

“Then why use it? You were never one to use your semblance on humans unless you had to", Eallgréne asked.

“The employers wanted the pirates taken alive; to go through an official trial for their crimes”, Violette explained.

“Which made things difficult when you’re trying to fight an entire ship of pirates while holding back. But boy, when they saw their captain lose it, they couldn’t have given up fast enough! I was her hype man too, told them, “THAT’S RIGHT! SURRENDER NOW, OR FACE THE MIGHT OF THE TERRIFYING VIOLETTE! BEG FOR MERCY BEFORE SHE TURNS ALL OF YOUR BRAINS TO MUSH!”, Nickel added, fighting through fits of laughter.

“Of course, there’s no way I would have had the aura to do that to all of them, even if I wanted to”, Violette clarified.

“But they didn’t know that. Easiest thousand lien I ever made”, Nickel said. Eallgréne turned to Nickel.

“Not that you really needed it anyway, aren’t you both rich?”, Eallgréne asked the duo.

“Listen, there’s no need to bring my family’s economic situation into this”, Nickel exclaimed.

“Parents cut back your heritage again, didn’t they?”, Eallgréne asked with a smirk.

“Yyyep”, Violette answered. Nickel became flustered.

“It’s not like I NEED their money! I have plenty saved up, and I make a decent pay from work!”, Nickel explained.

“And I bet you’d have even more saved up if you didn’t spend it all on cigars and liquor”, Gael joked with a sly smile. Nickel smirked as he pulled a cigar out from his suit jacket pocket.

“What, you expect me to smoke and drink CHEAP products? Puh-lease!”, Nickel mocked. As he said this, he pulled out from his pants pocket a small metal device. He spun it around with his free hand and the device opened up, twirling this way and that. Eventually, it opened to a cigar cutter, which he used to cut the tip off of his cigar. He clenched the cigar in his teeth, then spun the metal device around again, folding it back into place and putting it away. Nickel then dug into another pocket in his pants and pulled out a matchbook. He ripped off a match, ignited it, and lit his cigar.

“Who would have thought that such bad habits were so expensive?”, Eallgréne said with a chuckle.

“Listen, we can’t all be cheap choir boys like you, man”, Nickel retorted, laughing through clenched teeth.

“Eallgréne also has a sister to help, you know”, Gael said in Eallgréne’s defense.

“How is Steorra doing? Is she still running the shop in Vale?“, Violette asked.

“She is. Shop helps her maintain a decent enough income where I don’t need to send her every lien I make, but I still make sure she’s covered. Helps that Beacon’s getting more and more students each year”, Eallgréne explained.

“And I think the shop is good to keep her busy”, Gael added. Eallgréne sighed, looking up to the sky.

“Yeah…she’s so restless. She has the energy and heart of a huntress…but not the body”, Eallgréne said solemnly. It was still a tough subject for him to talk about, even after all these years. He suddenly felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Gael give the reassuring gesture. He smiled and nodded in response. Gael smiled back.

The touching moment, unfortunately, was disrupted by a high-piercing scream.

Team EVGN immediately froze where they stood and turned towards the source of the scream, some distance away through the woods to their left.

“I didn’t sense any Grimm around!”, Violette admitted.

“No time to worry over it now, let’s go!”, Eallgréne commanded.

“What about Vale!?”, Nickel asked as the group started running towards the commotion.

“We can’t leave someone in danger! Vale isn’t going anywhere!”, Gael answered. Nickel sighed.

“…Ergh, damn my moral compass!”, Nickel said to himself.

Another scream echoed through the trees, this one louder. It sounded like a little girl’s voice. There was another voice yelling, which sounded like an older male, accompanied by the growl of Grimm. Running as fast as their feet would allow them, it took only a minute or two for the group of hunters to come upon a large clearing and the source of the chaos.

A little girl stood trapped against a tree. She looked to be about eight, with long brunette hair and blue eyes. She wore a simple red and green dress, suitable for outdoor work. A Beowolf stood mere feet away from her, ready to strike as it growled and showed off its fangs.

Some feet away from this girl was another person, a man in his early thirties; possibly the girl’s father. He was on his back, fending off a separate Beowolf with nothing more than a pitchfork. He wore jean overalls and a red long-sleeve shirt with a black cap on his head. All his clothes were dirty from the fight. He struggled to try to reach the little girl, but could do nothing as the Grimm bit down on his pitchfork, trying to reach the man.

Several other Beowolves came out from the darkness in the woods, attracted to the sounds of dismay. They saw the hunters as well and growled menacingly.

“DADDY!”, the little girl screamed, seeing her father struggle.

“ACQUA!”, the father yelled. He tried to fend the Beowolf off to get to his daughter, but to no avail. Eallgréne turned to Gael.

“GAEL, NICKEL, GET THE FATHER! VIOLETTE, YOU’RE WITH ME!”, Eallgréne ordered.

“GOT IT!”, Gael yelled. She immediately blinked and vanished as Nickel charged towards the father and Beowolf. Gael reappeared right beside the struggle. The man, still fending off the Grimm, turned to the sudden appearance of the faunus in shock. “Don’t worry, I got you! Hold on tight!”, she explained. The father, unable to process her sudden arrival, just nodded.

Gael swung and kicked the Beowolf in the head, pushing it away for just a second; which was all she needed. She put her hand on the father’s chest and the two immediately disappeared in a blink.

The Beowolf noticed its prey vanish and looked around to find it, only to find Nickel fast approach it. He pulled his two revolvers out from under his suit jacket and aimed them at the Beowolf.

“SMILE, SUNSHINE!”, Nickel yelled. He then fired multiple rounds from both guns at the Grimm, striking it with explosive rounds in different parts of its body. The Beowolf fell to the ground in a heap and smoldered away as Gael reappeared on the ground with the father, who was visibly shaken from the sudden ordeal.

“It’s ok, we’ve got you”, Gael told the man. He quickly shot up from the ground and turned towards the little girl.

“MY DAUGHTER!”, the father yelled. Gael kept him from running off into more danger.

“-is in safe hands”, Gael reassured.

The Beowolf that was threatening the little girl inched closer to its defenseless prey. The child pressed herself against the tree, as if in doing so, she would mold through it; the tree held firm however.

The Beowolf swung its claws, the girl winced and turned away, prepared for the onslaught. But the attack never struck. The girl turned back to see Violette standing before her, her lance blocking the blow. The Beowolf stepped back, uncertain of its sudden enemy. The little girl looked at Violette in amazement, her eyes wide in awe at the white armor that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. Violette turned to the girl and smiled with a curtsy.

“Hello sweetie, my name’s Violette, and we shall be your protectors today”, Violette said politely. The little girl couldn’t help but gasp in glee at the sudden change of events.

Eallgréne, taking advantage of the distracted Grimm, pulled his tomahawks from their sheaths and charged the beast. The Grimm, not yet seeing the green-clad hunter, reared back to lunge at Violette. Eallgréne slid in, one tomahawk shoved into the mouth of the Beowolf to block the bite, the other swung across the arm of the beast, chopping it off. The limb landed on the ground and the Grimm howled in pain.

“GET HER TO SAFETY, VIOLETTE!”, Eallgréne yelled, struggling with the monster. Violette nodded, grabbed the little girl by the arm, and rushed her away from the struggle. This caught the attention of the other Beowolves, which all moved in on the group. “Ugh, just perfect!”, Eallgréne said in annoyance to the added enemies. The Grimm he was fending off tried to bite through to him. “Oh enough of this!”. He swung his free axe into the neck of the beast, killing it. He pushed the carcass away from him and stood up to face the oncoming monsters.

Gael and Nickel, several feet away from Eallgréne, got the father on his feet and backed up, from the Grimm. Violette managed to get Acqua away from the center of the clearing, but stopped when their escape was blocked off by more Beowolves. The knight kept the little girl close to her side and her lance forward to shield them from any potential attacks.

“We’re surrounded!”, Violette exclaimed.

“Any bright ideas!?”, Nickel asked, pulling out from his side an ammo drum. He connected it between his two revolvers and made his machine gun for more firepower. Gael pulled Catharsis off of her back and gripped it tight.

“We do what we always do! Fight till the last one! And like a flood, SWEEP away the Grimm!”, Eallgréne yelled.

“Even in battle, he’s gotta be a poet”, Nickel said quietly with a hint of annoyance and sarcasm. Gael smirked.

“Jealous?”, Gael asked. Nickel scoffed in reply. The Beowolves howled and rushed in.

Eallgréne spun around with his axes in hand, chopping and slicing into the Grimm as he avoided bites and claws. He decapitated one wolf with a mighty swing down, then swung the other tomahawk into the legs of another Beowolf rushing at him from his left, cutting them off and forcing it to topple over other Grimm in a collision. Another wolf lunged in the air, jaws wide open. Eallgréne stood up and swung his axes in an “X”, slicing the head in pieces. Sensing a presence behind him, he connected the handles together, forming a double-ended staff. He swung Folcriht around from under his arm and used the staff to bat away a Grimm that got too close, then lunged forward to stab it in the chest with the tip of the tomahawk.

Violette swung Llamrei with great force, striking several approaching Beowolves and sending them flying. One tried to jump overhead to reach Acqua, but Violette swung her lance upward, causing the Grimm to land directly on the point and get impaled. She swung the lance and threw the wolf into another, sending them both flying. Another Grimm rushed from the right to flank them. Acqua screamed in fear. Violette, unable to swing her lance at such an angle in time, ran in-between and held her arm out. The Grimm latched on to her arm with its teeth and tried to rip Violette’s arm off. The armor on her arm protected her from being punctured by the teeth, but the tugging was taking its toll. She punched the Beowolf in the throat with her gauntlet, forcing it to release her. As the Grimm tried to recover from the severe injury, Violette grabbed her lance and smacked the monster away from her and the child.

Gael jumped in the air and blinked, reappearing some feet away beside a Beowolf. She sliced the Grimm in half, and blinked again just in time to avoid a tackle from another wolf. She appeared in the air above the same wolf with her sword down and pierced it in its spine. As the body evaporated, she jumped back and swung her blade beside her. Looking at weak points in the pack, she lunged and blinked. Darting in small open spaces, she would appear, strike a unsuspecting Grimm, then disappear to avoid retaliation. She repeated this across the clearing, cutting down every wolf she could with speed that surpassed lightning. Stopping in an opening, she whipped off the second half of Catharsis from her side and threw it with great force. It impaled three different Grimm and continued to soar across the battlefield. Gael blinked again, appearing beside the flying sword. She grabbed it in mid-air with little effort; stopping it immediately and causing the three bodies to slide off the blade and fall.

Nickel kept close by the father, knowing that he was his last line of defense. With Gael blinking this way and that, he had to avoid shooting in her general direction. With his cigar still smoking in his mouth, he grinned as he opened fire on the Beowolves before him. Arms and legs would be blown off by the explosive rounds as bodies fell all around them. Suddenly, St. Valentine clicked; the ammo drum was empty. Nickel pulled his revolvers apart and the drum case clanked on the dirt. Seeing that the firing had stopped, the Beowolves moved in. Nickel grabbed another ammo drum, but wasn’t fast enough. A Beowolf lunged at him with fangs glaring. Nickel scoffed. His body glowed a bright white for a second, and then he grabbed the wolf by its throat. The Grimm slashed at Nickel, but its claws couldn’t penetrate his body, merely bouncing off his thick skin. He smiled at the stunned monster, then kicked it in its jaw. Teeth flew out of its mouth as it flew backwards several feet and hit the ground with a thud. Seeing another Beowolf fast approaching, Nickel bent down and grabbed the father’s pitchfork. He spun it in his hand and threw it with great force, stabbing the wolf in the throat and sending it flying, eventually pinning it to a tree. Nickel took this time to reload his weapon.

“There doesn’t seem to be an end to these Grimm guys, have any BETTER ideas!?”, Nickel asked Eallgréne. The hunter had just spun Folcriht across and sliced open yet another Beowolf. He then stopped to think. Nickel was right, despite the number they’ve all killed, more were coming out from the underbrush. They would burn through all their aura soon if they didn’t hurry. He tried to think of a plan that could get them out of this quickly and efficiently. Suddenly, something came to him.

“…How about a St. Valentine’s Day Massacre?”, Eallgréne asked. Nickel and Gael, upon hearing the name, both immediately smiled from ear to ear. Eallgréne himself couldn’t help but laugh at their excitement.

“Hahahaha! YES! TEAM ATTACK, LET’S DO IT BABY!”, Nickel yelled. Eallgréne rushed towards the father, cutting down two Beowolves in his way before grabbing him by the arm.

“BRING THE RAIN!”, Eallgréne yelled to Nickel before running off with the man. He brought him to Violette and Acqua. The father quickly wrapped his arms around his daughter while Eallgréne and Violette went back-to-back to cover them.

“Get down and stay covered!”, Violette ordered the two. The father nodded and covered his daughter, laying on the ground.

Gael ran to Nickel and put a hand on his arm.

“Ready!?”, Gael asked. Nickel loaded his weapon and gleamed.

“TIME TO BRING THE MASSACRE!”, Nickel yelled in excitement. He then opened fire on a group of Beowolves, tearing them apart with his bullets. Gael used her semblance to make herself and Nickel teleport to a different corner of the clearing. Nickel continued to fire, ripping apart a different number of Grimm. Gael blinked again, this time jumping before she did so to allow them to reappear in the air and fire overhead.

The Beowolves were unable to pin-point the source of the attacks before the duo would teleport again. The wide spray of the bullets and change of targets caused Grimm to fall everywhere. Trees that were caught in the crossfire were blasted, branches exploding and falling to the ground, leaves and dirt flying in the air from the small explosions. Eallgréne and Violette made sure that, (even with their teammates careful attempt to avoid them), that the father and daughter were protected from potential missed shots.

The ground shook as the two continued to unleash a barrage of bullets everywhere. What few Beowolves that weren’t killed by the bullets found themselves crashing into others in an attempt to fight back, or were struck by debris. Eventually, Gael stopped blinking, falling to her knees and panting heavily. Nickel, while not exhausted from the blinking, was disoriented and tried to steady himself. St. Valentine hissed from the heat of the intense firing, smoke coming out of the barrel. Eallgréne and Violette stood up, looking over the carnage.

The dust began to settle, showing a massive number of small craters and divots scattered throughout the forest clearing. Trees were heavily damaged, with large branches broken off or exploded entirely. Leaves, small rocks, and dirt were spread out over the entire area. All of the bodies of the Grimm disappeared, leaving nothing but a battlefield.

Looking over the field, Eallgréne almost didn’t notice a lone surviving Grimm dive towards him. In a split second, he pulled apart his tomahawks, turned, and thrust one of the axes up through the lower jaw of the Beowolf. The spike on the top nearly poked out from the bottom of the skull. Before he could react, Gael suddenly blinked beside him, holding up her scroll. She made a little kitty face, sticking her tongue out with Eallgréne and the now dead Beowolf perfectly lined in the shot with her. She snapped the picture, and suddenly collapsed, her body visibly showing her aura depleted entirely. Eallgréne, stunned at her collapse, dropped his tomahawk and caught his partner before she hit the ground; leaving the Grimm corpse to smolder. He held the faunus and looked at her with a mix of concern and annoyance, like unlike a parent to a child.

“You just HAD to use the last of your aura to take that selfie, didn’t you?”, Eallgréne said, scolding her.

“Worth it”, Gael said, giggling in exhaustion, winking at her partner. Eallgréne sighed, though he couldn’t hide his smile. Only she would do something so reckless for something so silly.

“Alright, here, let me help”, Eallgréne said. The archer re-positioned her and then clasped one of her hands into both of his. His hands began to glow, and soon, so did Gael’s. There was silence for a moment before eventually Eallgréne released her hand and the glowing faded. Gael smiled as the two of them stood up slowly.

“Thank you. I hope you didn’t give me too much of your own aura. You’ll need it too”, Gael said.

“Half. We’ll both be tired, but at least we can move”, Eallgréne replied. Gael sighed. She didn’t like him always lending her his aura, especially since he tended to be too giving with it, and made himself worse off by it. But it wasn’t like she could give any back to him. She was truly grateful for his generosity.

That was one thing that never changed in him over the years.

“Well, it was a bit of a detour, but I’d say a job well done overall”, Violette said as she and Nickel approached the two.

“I had fun at least”, Nickel said with a smile, relighting his now cold cigar with another match. “How are you two now?”.

“We can keep moving, but unfortunately we’ll be a bit slower for awhile. We’ll have to hope we won’t run into any more Grimm until we're at one hundred percent", Eallgréne answered. Violette suddenly felt something bump into her. She looked down to see the little girl, who was hugging her tightly. Violette couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Thank you for saving me!”, Acqua said sincerely. Violette giggled.

“It was no problem at all, miss”, Violette replied with a curtsey. The little girl giggled herself and did a curtsey back, albeit a bit of a clumsy one.

“Yes, thank you all so much for this. There’s…no telling what would have happened if you didn’t show up”, the father said, approaching the group. He, of course, knew what would have happened, but did not want to say so in front of his daughter. “We were on our way back home from selling produce when we were chased off the road by those Beowolves. The trees cut off our exit and they surrounded us. I tried fighting back, but I’m no hunter”.

“It was nothing, just doing our job”, Gael said with a smile.

“Are the Grimm here normally a problem?”, Eallgréne asked.

“No, that’s the thing. This area has very few Grimm. Us getting chased by Beowolves is very out of the norm for here, let alone by so many of them”, the father explained. He truly was mystified by the ordeal.

“Well hopefully we took out the new guests to the area. Do you have a way back to your home?”, Nickel asked. The father nodded.

“Yes, my truck is right over there”, the father said, pointing to their far right. A old pick up truck was to the side of the clearing. It looked dirty from their escape from the Grimm, and was covered in small branches and dirt from the team attack, but otherwise seemed drivable.

“Ok, you and your daughter should head home now. I doubt any more Grimm will show up, but best to not take any chances”, Eallgréne stated. The father nodded.

“I don’t intend to. What about all of you?”, the father asked.

“We’re on our way to Vale. You need not worry about us”, Violette said with reassurance.

“Then you should all come with. I know you must all be tired from that fight. And I’m actually going to be driving to Vale tomorrow to sell more of our produce at their market. You can rest up at our home, then I can save you the walk tomorrow”, the father explained. The little girl became excited at the idea.

“Can they!? It’d be like a sleepover! Pleeeaaase!?”, the little girl asked, tugging on Violette’s arm.

“It’d be the least we could do for what you’ve done for us”, the father added. Violette was clearly drawn to the little girl, and turned to Eallgréne.

“Well?”, Violette asked.

“It would make things easier on us. And you and I aren’t exactly fit to travel a lot now”, Gael stated. Eallgréne didn’t want to be a bother to the family, but knew that Gael had a point. And if the father intended to go to Vale anyway, it would save them hours on the trip.

“Ok, sure. We thank you for your hospitality”, Eallgréne lamented. The little girl cheered, grabbing Violette by the arm, (and Gael as she passed by her), and pulled them towards the truck. Her father laughed at the sight.

“She’s already a big fan of you all”, the father stated.

“She has good taste”, Nickel said with a smirk.

“My name’s Terra by the way. My daughter is Acqua”, the father named Terra explained.

“I’m Eallgréne, this is Nickel, and the ladies are Gael and Violette”, Eallgréne introduced. Terra tipped his hat to them.

“An honor. Well, we best get moving. I can fit two others in the cab max, everyone else, I’m afraid, will have to sit in the bed”, Terra explained. The men looked to the truck, where Acqua had already entered the bed with Gael. Violette approached a tree, where Terra's pitchfork was stuck in from Nickel's throw. She pulled the pitchfork out of the tree with some force and placed it in the bed of the truck. She jumped in afterwards, and Acqua began talking to the huntresses in awe. Terra laughed. “I guess it’s already decided who sits in the cab!”.

“Can’t complain about that…you’re taking bitch seat by the way”, Nickel said to Eallgréne before walking to the truck. Eallgréne sighed.

End of another chapter! Hope that you are all enjoying the read so far; I’m certainly enjoying writing it! Bit of a side note, but the one and only @gaelfox is making an actual cosplay of her OC, Gael, and it is AWESOME so far! If you haven’t seen it yet, definitely check it out. :3 Let me know what you think of EVGN so far, and I hope to get to the next chapter soon! Until next time!