#than also a tattoo on her neck that says art

[bubblepopsims]

raw, unfiltered for screenies... and just....

Bastards love art- if you see it you see it if you don’t I did discuss in my hashtags like a weirdo XD

[tinydeskwriter]

Grammy Night 23’

"I feel like I'm going to burst the seams of the dress."  Y/n commented looking at herself in the mirror as Lamby's assistant finished zipping her dress, her breasts were almost bursting out of it, a beautiful creation made of Swarovski silver crystals.

 “Darling, you are going to be the hottest woman on that carpet.”  Her husband’s stylist praised her  bringing in his hand the fishnet mask with crystals that would go over her eyes and dyed peacock feathers that went on the back of her head. “See if the crystals will get in the way of you seeing.”

“Honey Baby, how do I look?” Y/n turned to see her husband walking into the room, she knew what he would wear, she had seen the sketches but it was another thing to see the final result.  Harry looked hot as hell, the colorful crystal patchwork jumpsuit couldn't be more perfect on him, it showed his chiseled body, the tattoos,  the fantastic chest his fans—and wife—are crazy about, all the hair, the lonely curl... Harry just smiled, the answer to his question was clear in the way his wife stared at him.  "See people, that's why we have three kids."  He joked pointing to his wife,  causing their team to laugh.  “You are a vision Honey.” He said pecking her on the lips, hands going to her waist. “My favorite MILF.” He whispers, kissing her neck.

“Says the man who half the internet calls ‘’Daddy’” She teases.

“Having my kids did good to you.”  He jokes staring at his wife's cleavage. 

Y/n just rolls her eyes, a smile still in her face. 

“Darling, Sue, sorry to interrupt your dirty talk,  but it’s frosting time, and then you guys are good to go.” Lambert came their way with a jewelry tray.  

Before Lamby could start helping Y/n with the pieces of jewelry they'd selected at Tiffany's in NYC the week before, H interrupted him, pulling a chain from his pocket.  

“You don't have to wear it today, I bought it as a push present and also celebrate my Grammy nominations, I wouldn't be here today without you, My Love.”  The chain was white gold, delicate with colored stones, and a teardrop diamond the same color as her engagement ring held by a fig.

The woman was speechless, looking from the necklace to her lover of more than a decade.  It was a substantial gift, but Harry had always been generous, and he enjoyed spoiling her since they’re teens and couldn’t afford diamonds. She just turned around, allowing him to fasten the jewel around her neck.  She ran her hand over the diamond, it was the exact same color as her engagement ring—a fancy green diamond almost the same color of her husbands eyes—.

“My Love… this is beautiful, thank you so much.” She turned around, taking his face between her hands and kissing him passionately, trying to express through the kiss all her love for him.

Harry smiled into the kiss, his hands tightening on her hips.

Jeff came in at that exact moment to inform them that the car was already waiting to take them from the Chateau to the Crypto.com Arena. 

Lambert and his assistant quickly help Y/n put on all the jewelry Tiffany had borrowed them, the Edwardian choker, which complemented the necklace Harry had given her, a mishmash of earrings—a massive chandelier, followed by a dainty stud, and diamond hoops—in all of her ear piercings, a beautiful Art Deco bracelet mixed with the colorful collection of  tennis bracelets Y/n wore to mark every Mother's Day since the birth of her eldest son. 

On her fingers she preferred to go with her usual rings. 

 Her engagement ring and wedding band were the only rings on her left hand.  While on the right she wore the same 'S' as H on her little finger, a delicate 'H' in colored diamonds, infinity bands of different stones, and a vintage solitaire on her index finger—a Christmas present the kids had picked out with Grandma Anne —.

Lambert's assistant helped her on with her shoes—high-heeled Mary Janes from Gucci—while she was held by both Harrys to keep her balance.

As they were rushed to the car by Jeff, Y/n remembered to turn around and ask someone to remember to pack her breast pump along with the rest of their outfits.

In the car, to try and ease Harry's anxiety, they video-phoned the children—who were being watched by Gemma and Anne—Primrose answered their grandmother's cell phone, dressed in a bear onesies that made her look like a teddy bear, showing the TV room to her parents and the snacks gran-gran made, auntie Gemma sitting in the couch  with a sleeping  baby Bluebell, the three months old dressed just like her big sister.  Otto was in the bathroom according to Prim who was chattering non-stop making Harry smile more relaxed.

It always warmed Y/n’s heart that nothing could make H as happy and relaxed as their babies. 

They said goodbye to their daughter when the car stopped in front of the arena, Y/n handing over the phone to Jeff to keep. Harry get out of the car first and waits in the doorway to help his wife out and supports her from behind as they make the slightly uneven path between the car and the carpet, his right hand firmly on her right while his left hand was firmly on her hip, and she held his wrist for more balance.  The couple made their way under the screams of fans and the flash of cameras.

It was only when they were already at a certain point on the carpet that Harry placed himself next to his wife and the two started to walk hand in hand.  They stops for photos along the way, but don't do any interviews, heading straight for the cocktail area. The couple interacted with acquaintances and friends, especially those they hadn't seen in a while. The last two and a half years have been crazy, Fine Line, Covid 19, quarantine with two young children, Pleasing, Harry filming and premieres, Harry’s House, Love on Tour and a new baby.  They were busy and it seemed like they rarely had time for their friends, as all their free time was being spent with the little  family they had created together. 

Both changed clothes in Harry's designated dressing room before heading to their seats—crystal outfits were cute but impractical when you have to sit for hours, Harry donned a Gucci suit costume made for him, while Y/n wore a silver sequin  Markarian gown matching Harry's shirt. The couple certainly looks gorgeous, always matching theirs outfits in subtle ways.

They have their hands clasped together, she holding his hands so he wouldn’t pick on his cuticles, Harry is quieter than usual allowing Y/n to take the lead and interact with other people—which, having been married to him for nearly eight years, and knowing him since she was born, she could tell it was a sign of nervousness. 

She whispered to him how amazing the album was and that he didn't need the validation that it was a little golden gramophone for the world to know that.

Nervousness turns to euphoria when Harry becomes the first winner of the night, taking the award for best pop album. 

Y/n didn't even hear Jennifer Lopez's introductory speech, her eyes focused on Harry's handsome profile.  

Y/n is the first to his feet when he hears Harry's name being screamed by J.Lo, applauding his husband energetically, the smile on Harry's face is blinding, he takes his wife's face between his hands and kisses her, before continuing to be hugged and greeted by people around the table and nearby. She has tears in her eyes, which the cameras make a point of showing when they zoom in on her at the exact moment when Harry on stage dedicates the award to his wife for being his muse and inspiration.

One of the highlights of the night for the couple was without a doubt the fact that Y/n had been invited to present the performance of 'As It Was'.  

In a gold-metal mesh top and long skirt, showing off her midriff, the woman who had become famous at fifteen as Harry Styles' 'best friend' took the stage flanked by her two eldest children, seven-year-old Otto, dressed in a pink suit and beige turtleneck by Gucci and a crochet daisy bucket hat covering his curls, and adorable four-year-old Primrose, twining with her brother in a blue Gucci suit, her curls adorned by a huge crystal bow.

“Many of you fell in love with the next artist to perform here tonight in 2011 when he became one of the members of one of the biggest boy bands in history, he has been delivering hits ever since, amassing fans around the world, and delighting hearts with his music, he is an icon, a sex symbol, and one of the greatest musicians of our time, but for us he is simply the greatest husband and father, it is with immense pleasure that I am here tonight, with our two eldest children, to introduce one of the most authentic, generous, kind artists on the planet, the love of my existence, here, to delight us with his Grammy-nominated song 'As It Was', my husband and father of my children,” She lowered the microphone, allowing the two children to squeal excitedly into the device, “Harry Styles!”  

And for the first time in a live performance Primrose was present to say the already famous: ‘Come on Daddy! We wanna say good night to you!' driving the audience crazy.

Y/n and the kids made their way to their table dancing to her husband’s song, the mother of three splitting her attention between walking in her heels and looking where the kids were going, Otto made a short stop dancing with Taylor Swift, and saying something to her that made the singer throw her head back laughing. Y/n greeted Taylor with kisses on the cheek before redirecting her son to their table.  

An extra chair was brought over for Otto—who was at the next table greeting Lizzo and Adele.

Prim sat in Harry's chair waiting for daddy, and Y/n wouldn't even insist that the little girl sit on her lap, as she knew she couldn't compete with her husband when it came to their children. When they least expected it, Harry was back, in his Gucci suit—and not in what Otto was referring to as ‘daddy bedazzled Chewbacca costume’.

"Surprise!"  Y/n sings to her husband as he lifts their daughter up, making the little girl giggle, and sat with her on his lap, kissing their daughter's cheek, and fist bumping their son.

It was a surprise she had been planning for over a week, at times she was afraid someone would let it out, especially Prim, who was known in the family for not being able to keep secrets—just like her daddy.

“Thank you, Honey Baby.” He thanked his wife with a peck, his whole face lit up with the appearance of the children. “You look godly.” Harry  complimented her, eyes roaming all over the outfit, he knew what a big step it was for his wife to wear something so daring after three pregnancies, despite her beautiful body—especially in his eyes—Y/n was insecure about her stretch marks.

“Thank you, my life.” She pulled his hand to hers and kissed the back of his hand. 

They watched the awards half-heartedly, at every turn Otto and Prim brought their parents' attention to them with funny anecdotes, and Y/n was having to keep a hand on their son's shoulder to make sure the boy didn't wander off. The family of four cheered when Lizzo was announced as the winner of Song of the Year, Otto ran with open arms to the honorary auntie congratulating her for the award, he didn't even care that 'daddy' had lost, auntie Lizzo had won! 

With every moment that passed, anxiety rose, Y/n was confident in her husband’s album—the album she had inspired—, while Harry was sure Album of the Year was between Beyonce and Bad Bunny. 

She shook Harry's hand as Noah Trevor took the stage to announce the final awards of the night, asking fans of the nominees to join him, when the comedian asked Harry's fan to read the name on the envelope, Harry broke down with gratefulness, disbelieve, joy…

 Prim clung to her father's neck screaming that he had won. 

 Y/n stood up applauding her husband, Otto hugging his mother's hips showing his father’s  twin smile, dimples and all. 

 Harry got to his feet after composing himself, smiling Primrose hanging on his neck with  her legs curled around his hips. 

Harry kissed his wife with a huge smile, ruffled his son's curls, hugged Jeff, Tyler and Tom, Lizzo, who filmed everything excited.  The singer took the stage with his children and their two producers, he put Prim on the floor so he could hug his fan and accept his award, Primrose and Otto hugging him on either side.

“Shit…well, shit.”  He looked at his children. “Sorry kids.”

H was speechless, Y/n could see it from a distance.

Jeff wrapped a arm around her when she started to tear up. 

Harry was so humbled and grateful, and this was such a huge moment in his career, and she was so proud of the man she had married.  The boy from Holmes Chapel who worked in a bakery and always came to pick her up with cupcakes in his hands and flowers he had picked from the neighbor's garden. Her husband was a three times Grammy Award winner, and he had just owned the biggest award of the night.  

The woman frowned as she heard people in the audience yelling negativity at her husband, how Beyonce should have won and some yelling at him to get off the stage. 

 This was his moment, it wasn't his choice to win, two thousand of his peers had voted and chosen him, chosen Harry's House as the best Album. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but you don't have to be an asshole. 

 Treat People With Kindness. 

 She was happy to see Beyonce, Taylor Swift, Shania, Lizzo, H.E.R and Adele giving him a standing ovation, and hearing his shaken speech.  

He once again dedicated it to her and their kids, calling them ‘his home’. Y/n quickly joined her husband backstage, arms going around Harrys’s neck, as his hands found her hips. The couple smiled at each other before kissing passionately, his team applauding the moment. 

“I’am so proud of you, My Life.” She held his face in her hands. “You did it! You put out an amazing album, delivered a killer tour, 2022 was your year, and you deserved that Album of the Year award!” She states brushing his nose with hers, a huge smile on her face before kissing him again.

[erodasfishtacos]

A Pictures Worth (Curious Gazes 3)

prompt(from kofi commission): I would love another type of curious gaze for ceorry with Ivy, Willow, Magnolia and Y/N out on a family trip maybe on vacation or like a museum or something and the kids are just really excited to be out with the whole family

warnings: light smut, language, harrys an asshole to everyone but his babies! minor dni 18+

i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story

—

Heidi was relieved to be away from real life for a little bit, to take a step back from the burnout where everyday was god awful.

Her job was extremely stressful, with high expectations and strict schedules if she didn’t want her prick of a boss chewing her out.

She decided that a trip to the coast of the French Rivera was well deserved, even though her job was difficult - it paid exceptionally well and her boss was no cheapskate, just an asshole.

It was early in the morning, just about eight thirty but Heidi and her husband were early birds and already had snagged a spot in some loungers near the pool.

It was the weirdest turn of event.

She’s complaining to her husband, Paul, about her last week at work as they sip on mimosas and let the sun warm them up.

“He came into our office because Dale didn’t have the report ready,” Heidi recounts then mocking his rasp accent says, “And if you group of idiots can’t figure it out in the next five minutes, you can all be looking for new fucking jobs.”

Paul shakes his head in distain, “He shouldn’t be able to talk to you guys like that. It’s completely unacceptable.”

“He’s the owner, it’s not like I can complain to Human Resources. He’s everyone’s boss,” Heidi sighs before taking a long sip of her drink and trying to let her shoulders not tense up.

In the next moment, the same voice she just mocked - she hears from the side - her head whips as fast as a flash when she recognizes it.

And it is none other than her boss, Harry fucking Styles, in nothing but a short pair of swimming trunks and a bare chest with just gold chains decorating his neck. ***

She’s obviously never seen her boss in this state of undress, she knew he had tattoos but he was nearly covered.

Sparrows on his chest, a massive butterfly right on his midsection, ferns that looked downright obscene peeking out of his shorts on his sharp hip bones, a tattoo of what looks like a willow tree taking up his left side and what looks like vines of ivy on his other with magnolia flowers scattered around the art.

That’s not the most interesting thing though - it was a toddler who couldn’t be more than a year and a half,*** who was cradled in the crook of his one arm and a toddler, no more than three ***, was grasping his other hand and waddling next to him.

“Dadadada,” The child chanted happily as her chubby hands stayed buried in her father’s curls and she was rubbing her face against his stubbly cheek.

“Yes, baby. I hear you talkin’,” Harry murmurs to his daughter, trying to also juggling a massive tote bag that looks filled to the brim with diapers, water toys, and sun lotion.

“Where’s mummy and Vee?” The red-headed toddler lisps with a frown, looking around for the other part of her family as she stays close to her father.

“Vee is helping your mumma make some sandwiches and snacks to eat down here, lil’ red,” He replies patiently as he takes the lounge chairs right next to Heidi and Paul without even glancing their way.

He plops the baby on the chaise before popping the other one onto the cushion as well as he rifles through the gucci tote. ***

Heidi can’t help but stare as she watches the man who makes her life a living hell dig out two bottles of sunblock and squirts some on his hands.

At first he lathers it up in his palms before rubbing it all over the toddler’s arms, chest, legs before using a smaller bottle for her face.

The red-head girl giggles the whole time as her father massages the lotion into her fair skin, a likely chance she’d burn a lot without it.

When she’s done, Harry kisses her hair and tells her softly, “You're sucha good girl for your daddy. Thank you for sitting still for me, Willow Anne.”

Willow Anne.

She can’t believe what she’s seeing, the absolute dichotomy of this man is mind boggling to say the least and it’s throwing her off.

It didn’t seem like the same man who nearly fired her of a minuscule error only three weeks ago.

-

Heidi is minding her own business, typing out an email to a client when her office door slams open with force and her stomach drops when she sees who it is.

“Why has the quarterly report for sales in Dubai not been sent out? It was due at eight sharp and it’s currently nearly one in the fuckin’ afternoon,” Harry demands angrily, his jaw clench and his eyes hard as stone as they stare her down, making her feel small - like a child getting into trouble.

Heidi feels like she is about to throw up because it completely slipped her mind that it was due today and she knows she looks caught out.

Harry scoffs in disbelief, speaking sharply through his teeth, “If you don’t get that report done and sent out by midnight, I’ll have a seat ready for you in my office.”

“I’m s-sorry. I w-will, sir,” Heidi stutters out in fright, clicking off the email and opening up a spreadsheet right then and there.

He doesn’t say anything else before he’s turned on his heel and shutting door so fiercely behind him she’s surprised it didn’t splinter the wood.

She was at the office until eleven thirty that night to pump it out and have it sent - missing her mother’s birthday.

When she walked into the elevator the next morning, exhausted from only getting a few hours at home before coming back to work - her boss is slipping into the elevator next to her.

He’s on his phone, speaking quietly - just above a whisper, “I’ll be home by noon. Did Noli still have a temperature when she woke up? Give her a kiss for me.”

Then he’s replying to the person, “Of course, anything for you. Yes. Okay. I will call you. I love you, darling. Bye.”

When it’s silence in the lift now, just Harry and herself, they make eye contact when he gazes over at her - it doesn’t even look like he recognizes they meet gazes.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles,” Heidi replies awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as he stands there as still and stiff as a statue.

He appears tired, dark circles under his eyes, and his lips turned down even more than usual - she wonders if it has anything to do with the person, Noli, he was talking about on the phone.

Heidi knows looking back that she shouldn’t have said anything but she said, “I hope your daughter’s okay.”

Harry tenses like she’s just pinched him, staring directly at her and biting out, “Don’t fuckin’ speak about my family.”

In perfect timing, the elevator dings open and Harry is striding out without a single look back.

What a fucking asshole.

-

Now that same dickhead was crouched down, trying to rub the lotion into the infant’s skin but she’s not as happy about it as Willow.

“No no no,” The baby babbles with a furrowed brow, trying to push her father’s heavily-ringed hands away from her.

Heidi expects him to snap at the baby, tell her to be quiet, and let him do it.

He doesn’t.

Harry tugs his daughter closer to him, softly asking her, “Do you want to go in the water? Want to swim with Vee and Low?”

The girl nods while leaning forward to wrap her fingers into his necklaces.

“If you want to go in the water, you have to let daddy put lotion on you. If you don’t want the lotion, you have to stay under the umbrella out of the sun.”

“Lotion, daddy,” She squeaks quickly, pushing her arms out for him to apply the sunblock.

“Thank you, sweet baby,” He responds with a fond smile while tickling her sides before moving on to her chubby little legs.

“Are you ready to get in the pool?” A female voice asks Willow before Heidi sees a beautiful - like disgustingly beautiful woman step under their umbrella with a child attached to her side.

Heidi had never seen Harry’s wife or babies before, the youngest and the oldest *** that just arrived look exactly like Harry but the middle one doesn’t resemble anyone in the family.

Harry is hiking up their littlest one of his hip and turns to his wife where she’s shimmying off her cover-up and revealing a blue one-shoulder bathing suit.***

It was a simple suit but it fit like a glove, hugging every curve of her body and Heidi admired that she wasn’t trying to disguise the small pouch of skin that came from birthing children.

Harry is watching his wife intently, almost like he’s a going to devour her, and as soon as she’s just in the bathing suit - self consciously soothing her hand over her belly, he’s stepping over to her.

“Holy shit,” He grunts with hunger, his hand knocking hers away and his hand roaming her belly, hips, and then her bum before she’s giggling and pushing him back before pulling him to her again and kissing him on the lips, “Look at you. Making my knees weak, m’heart. Gonna let me take this skimpy thing off you? Later?”

“Mmm, I think about it,” She teases before the oldest one is tugging her hand towards the pool impatiently with giggles already on her head.

She trails off to the pool while Harry secures floaty vests to the two little ones before hiking both up in a hip and heading towards the water.

Heidi has to look away to stop from oogling when she notices the rippled muscles of his back, the sharp curve at the small of it as baby hands cling to his skin to hold on.

She decides it the perfect time to get in the pool for a dip, hell, who was she kidding?

She wanted to see this man with his babies.

The pool has an underwater bench, that’s where she takes up residency while Harry corrals his little herd of children into the shallow end.

The oldest one has no issue swimming on her own.

“Ivy Elizabeth,” Harry’s wife says to her daughter while fixing the strap on her pink goggles, “You stay right next to daddy and I, okay? No more than to that line,” She informs, pointing to a marking where it’s going get deep, “You can only swim from there and back. Do you understand?”

“Yes mumma,” Ivy agrees sweetly before pinching her nose and diving under the water and swimming away but in the area.

The youngest one is too little to learn how to swim but the middle child seems to be in the process of learning, while Harry’s wife holds the youngest - dipping her down in the water over and over as she giggles and blows raspberries back up at her mum.

“S’the water nice, Noli?” Harry legitimately coos at the smiling baby before he’s leaning down to kiss her nose before murmuring, “Willow Anne, shall we try swimming?”

“No, no swim,” Willow lisps with a pout before trying to crawl up him more despite the lifevest being in the way because it’s so bulky.

“Oh, come on. M’little heart. Can we give it a try? You’ve been doing so good at your swim lessons,” Harry encourages, lowering her legs into the water just the littlest bit for her to get a feel of it.

Willow searches her father’s eyes for a moment before smiling shyly and nodding that she would like to try to swim.

“That’s my good girl,” Harry peppers a few kisses over her face to make her giggle loudly and in turn, making Harry laugh.

A sound Heidi has never heard.

It was raspy, a bit like rough gravel but a minuscule pinch higher of a pitch.

Dimples appeared deep in his scruffy cheeks and his straight white teeth were flashing in a facial expression she’d never seen from him.

No one was going to believe her at work.

Willow flails for a moment before she gathers her bearings, letting out a loud whimper of distress before Harry’s tittering encouragingly, “Stay calm, lil’ red. Y’know daddy’s got you. Nothing bad will happen.”

Harry keeps his palm under her belly to keep her steady as she begins to paddle with her little arms and her tongue sticking out in concentration.

“There you go, baby! You’re doing so well!” Harry’s wife cheers excitedly, bouncing the baby on her hip who also claps her hands too and continues to babble between distinguished words.

Harry is patient as he helps instruct Willow through how to properly doggy paddle, float, and hold her breath underwater while Ivy swims like a little mermaid in her own imaginative world.

When Willow’s ready to take a break, letting her father hold her close as he wades closer to his wife who’s gently rocking the baby back and forth through the water as Noli’s eyes get heavy.

“You are so beautiful. Hurts to even look at you,” Harry tells his wife, his hand coming to rest at her hip before creeping around to her bum and making her squeak as he roughly squeezes her cheek.

“Do you think this bathing suit is alright? It’s the only one I think looked halfway decent,” She asks a bit self-consciously, nodding down towards her stomach.

“I don’t think it’s decent at all.”

What an asshole.

Heidi was about to open her mouth, to defend this poor woman who has three of his children, and had the nerve to make a comment about her swimsuit or body.

“You look absolutely indecent,” Harry continues his hand moving from her bum to her belly, “Turns me on just looking at you normally then you go and put this thing on? If we didn’t have the babies with us, I would have pinned against the lounge chair and gave it to you so good you’d cry and-“

“Ssh,” His wife giggles as a couple floats by on a pool raft but she’s giving him a kiss as he gets a couple more touches in before the middle daughter starts to whimper that she’s sleepy.

Heidi decides it’s time to get out anyways and soak up some more sun.

Time passes where she gets lost in her steamy romantic novel, ironically about a CEO and his assistant.

She’s brought out of her concentration with the sound of squeaky, displeased whines that were turning into sobs quickly.

Harry is sauntering up to their loungers with their youngest one hip and the middle on the other, Noli is rubbing her face against her father’s bare shoulder and smacking her lips together in frustration.

“Just one moment, dove,” Harry hums to his demanding little daughter as he bends down to rustle in the tote for a binkie to pop into her mouth, “Let’s relax a little, yeah? You didn’t sleep very well for mumma and I last night.”

“My binkie?” Willow chirps with a furrowed brow at her father as he wrestles them out of their life vests and into fluffy beach towels.

“No paci. Remember? You’re a big girl,” He reminds her as he towels himself off.

Willow crosses her little arms, shouting at her father, “Want my binkie, daddy! Now! Now!”

Harry crouches down, putting his hand gently on her shoulder, looking very seriously in her angry brown eyes, “Willow Anne. You do not yell at daddy. I know you’re upset that you can’t have your binkie anymore but we don’t yell.”

As soon as Willow gets disciplined, her pout turns to distress as she begins to cry - acting like Harry had just screamed straight in her face.

Harry scoops her, along with Noli who’s still grumbling, and murmurs, “Sleepy little crabs.”

Then he proceeds to lay back onto the lounge chair, lowering the back until it’s almost down laying Willow down to his side, nestled between his ribs and arm, the baby splayed across his chest.

Noli is obviously tired as she lays her head down automatically into the curve of his neck, lips suckling furiously at her pacifier.

Within minutes, both Harry and his daughters are fast asleep on the chaise - his arm wrapped protectively around both of them.

Heidi doesn’t know what she would expect of Harry as a father - both this wasn’t it.

Heidi knows she shouldn’t but she has to show the others at the office, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture of the scene next to her.

And when she ends up drifting off for a quite a long snooze, by the tone she wakes up, they’re already gone.

-

Heidi doesn’t expect to see them again but they have another run in - literally.

It was her fault to be honest, she had been nearly four cocktails in, and was wobbling her way back up to the room.

Heidi was waiting for the elevator and when it opened, she didn’t look to see if there were any occupants before she stepped in.

However, when she did that she bumped straight into the little girl who was moving to get out of the steel doors at the same time - resulting in her being knocked on her bum.

Heidi’s heart leaps out of her chest and her instant reaction is to lean down to help up the child she’d just tripped over and she nearly freezes in fear when she realizes whose child it.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her,” Harry booms out as soon as he sees Heidi reaching out to help, he’s quickly scooping up the sobbing toddler and bring her close to him, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She vaguely isn’t surprised by him swearing like this in front of his child but it doesn’t scare Willow, she’s whimpering into his neck, “Daddy, cuddle,” despite him already doing so.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Heidi stammers carefully, her intoxication obvious in her voice as she speaks to them.

“Maybe you shouldn’t drink if you handle your alcohol so poorly, pathetic,” He shakes his head as he bounces Willow on his hip and soothes her fiery curls back, “Now move the fuck out of my way.”

Heidi barely is able to take a step back before Harry is knocking her shoulder roughly in a haste to get out of the lift.

At this moment, she is extremely relieved he doesn’t remember who she is or she surely would have been fired.

-

Maria wasn’t enjoying her vacation as much as she had hoped she would. This trip had been a last ditch attempt to save her ten-year marriage.

However, her husband had drank too much during dinner and had fucked off to the casino - leaving her alone in their hotel room.

They’d gone all out, got an upgraded suite on one of the top floors, and a special spa package that was a pretty penny.

It was nearly eleven at night, there had been no sign of her husband coming back anytime soon and so she poured herself a glass of wine and trotted out to the balcony to sit and enjoy the view of the ocean.

Something catches her eye or someone.

It’s man, on the balcony across from their - it was a massive one that nearly took up the whole floor - it must have been the penthouse suite.

He’s faved away from her but she can see the carved out, chiseled muscles of his back, where he’s just in a small pair of briefs that show off his lean but strong legs, small perky bump with dimples on his lower back as he hangs up multiple different bathing suits to dry on a clothes line.

The lights are out in the penthouse and only a dim one is illuminating their balcony where a woman joins the man moments later- she’s in an expensive looking nightgown that hugs her curves, hair up in a messy bun. ***

Maria watches as she trails up to the man, hugging him, and wrapping her arms around his waist as she does, lips moving all over his skin.

The man abandons the rest of the swimsuits that need hanging up to return the embrace as his hands move down the small of her back, to her bum.

Maria’s not trying to be creepy or invasive but she is watching what she wants - what she wants with her husband but doesn’t have.

When he turns around, to gaze at all the other balconies to see if there’s wandering eyes, Maria realizes that it’s not just any man.

It’s her boss.

She was only human.

She knew he was a prick, not a nice guy, and she’s never had any pleasant experience with him in all her years working for him.

Maria should be repulsed and go inside but it’s impossible to deny how downright attractive he was, especially in barely any clothing.

Harry doesn’t seem to see Maria or anyone else for the matter before he’s crawling over the woman, who she guess is his girlfriend or hook-up or whatever, and dip down to kiss.

Her arms wrap around his neck and bring him further on top of her, his large hand move to slip up under her nightgown to her chest.

His partner pushes her chest up into his palm, spreading her legs to allow him to rest in between them, and his mouth travels down to her neck.

Maria finds herself touching the side of her neck absentmindedly, wishing that was her being given affection like that.

Harry is lightly pushing his hips down, grinding into her center between the barrier of their clothes, the woman’s legs wrapping around his waist to encourage him as his lips still descend now to her collarbones.

She’s trying to get her toes into the band on his brief to push them down off his hips but it isn’t working, Harry grips her ankle and returns it to the lounge but his hands are hiking up her nightgown.

Then Maria’s view is blocked when Harry ducks down between the valley of her thighs and Maria can tell by the way the woman’s back arches that it feels good.

Maria didn’t think Harry Styles would be the one to worry about anybody's pleasure but his own but that’s obviously not the truth.

She’s confused when they abruptly stop what their doing to look at something that’s propped up on the side table.

Harry’s standing up, snatching his shorts off the ground, and tugging them on before sauntering back inside the suite.

Maria is perplexed as she watches the woman readjust her nightgown and fix the straps that he’d pushed down to lay kisses on her shoulders.

She doesn’t seem upset and neither did he but what would have made him just get up like that?

Maria’s question is answered no more than a minute later when Harry exits onto the balcony again but with a whimpering, fussy red-headed baby in his hip.

He squeezes onto the chaise, both turning to lay on their sides facing inward and Harry lays the baby between them.

Maria watches as Harry leans over to give his partner one more kiss before they’re cuddling closer to the whimpering child who is desperately trying to get as close to their mum as possible.

Harry has one hand on his wife’s back and the other on his baby’s, rubbing up and down, as the red-headed girl burrows her head in her mum’s chest.

Not even five minutes later, another child appears at the balcony doors and steps out, she was older than the other one with wild brown locks and a seal stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

Harry lifts her up and squishes her into the middle, where she’s tucked neatly against his chest, and she nuzzles into the crook of his neck.

Maria never had those moments with her husband because he had surprised her with the information he didn’t want kids after the fact that they got married.

Harry seemed to treat his family unlike his employees, the woman she now assumes is his wife, his daughters, you could see even from a distance how much they adored him.

Maria is brave enough to admit that the image of Harry’s shoulders twitching and flexing when he pushed his hips down into his wife’s doesn’t leave her mind for a very very long time.

They don’t stay out very much longer, just long enough that the children drift back to sleep, and then they’re taking a baby each and taking them back inside.

-

Maria recognizes her boss once again but not until the next night around seven and this time he is fully dressed but more casual than she’d ever seen him in just an white tee, running shorts, and nikes.

He has the two girls that she saw the night before with him but now there’s another one that’s on his hip.

They’re all in nautical themed sleepers, which was probably the most adorable thing ever. It was funny to see this man with a permanent scowl at others being pulled down the hall by three girls.

They had him wrapped around their little fingers.

“Everyone gets one thing, not too much sugar before bed,” Harry reminds even as they head towards the vending machine, Maria was surprised that they wouldn’t have just ordered room service.

Maria then realizes that each girl has a few bills in their hands, clutching them excitedly as they arrive at the snack machine.

The oldest, the one who looks scarily similar to her father, begins to feed her first bill into the dispenser as she looks at all of her choices.

“No!” The redheaded child screams angrily, trying to bat her older sister’s hand away and pull back the bill she’s trying to get in, “Me! My turn.”

“Hey! Don’t do that, Low!” The oldest cries out as the bill tears nearly in half because of their back and forth over it.

“I get snack!” The middle child screeches before ultimately tearing the bill in half.

“Willow! That’s bad!” The oldest scolds but there’s fat tears streaming down her face as she holds her destroyed money.

Maria feels a chill run down her own back when Harry’s firm voice echoes through the hallway, “Willow Anne Styles.”

Willow looks up at her father with big guilty brown eyes and her bottom lip begins quivering when she realizes what she’s done.

Harry crouches down, let the littlest one off his hip and toddle over to where the oldest has resumed putting her bills in the machine.

“Come to y’daddy, please,” He murmurs sternly but his tone still managed to be soft enough to not be scary to her.

Willow is sobbing as she drags her feet over until she’s standing in front of her father, eyes directed down at her feet until Harry puts a finger under her chin so she’s making eye contact.

“We do not grab or try to take without permission,” Harry tells her, “That money was Ivy’s and you were not being kind to her. If you are upset that she was going to go first. We use words to fix it but we do not be unkind to others.”

“Because you ripped Ivy’s money, even after she told you not to. No snack from the vending machine. You can have a snack that mumma has for you upstairs. If you are kind then tomorrow you can come down and get something out of the machine. Understood?”

And Maria is baffled by….well, he’s a good parent.

Willow doesn’t tantrum further, she nods her head sadly and walks into her father’s arms where he gives her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Maria just…the sharp contrast between him in the office, out of that balcony with his wife, and then with his children.

Who the fuck is Harry styles?

-

Heidi was actually excited to see Harry Styles - when she had come back from vacation, she had made a major effort and managed to coerce a lucrative customer to end services with another company and only utilize their services.

So being called to her boss’ office wasn’t something she was dreading, she assumed that she was going to get praises, get a promotion hopefully.

When Dorothy nods for her to go into his office, she takes a deep breath, she’d never been in her before and it was absurdly beautifully designed.

Harry didn’t look the same as the last time she saw him, he was fully dressed in a well-fitted suit that covered all of his tattoos and how fit his body truly was beneath.

His golden tan was the only remanent of the trip, his lax smile and soft voice was replaced with a stone, unempathic and a scowl that would make anyone think twice about approaching him.

Heidi smooths out her skirt before sitting down in the chair across from him, her heartrate rising steadily as she avoids direct eye contact.

“Hello, Ms. Synder,” Harry greets in his normal, deep drawl with little emotion as his hands are together on his desk - rings reflecting off the lights.

“H-hello,” Heidi manages back, wanting to kick herself for stuttering but she tried to remember that he did have a caring side - she’d seen it.

“You managed to convince Shore’s Electronics to switch completely to our services?” Harry asks although he already knows.

“Yes sir.”

“Your position here is Assistant Manger of Marketing in our United Kingdom division?” He clarifies as he moves to click his mouse around on his computer.

“Yes, it is,” Heidi swallows, fiddling with her hands and picking a thread on her work pants.

“And you’re a photographer as well?” He asks with a purse to his lips as he meets her eyes for a moment, sharp mossy green.

Heidi doesn’t know what he’s talking about, “Er, no? I don’t do any type of photography work, Mr. Styles. I think there’s be some confusion.

“Oh has there?” He smiles with not humor before he’s tilting his computer screen to show her what’s displayed.

The picture she snapped of vacation.

“You sure were a photographer when you snapped this picture, hm?” His tone is steely, angry as he watches her reaction.

It’s a shot of Harry, in just in swim trunks, splayed on his back with his sunglasses shielding his eyes as well as the shade on the umbrella.

His daughter, Noli, on his chest - fast asleep and a binkie tucked into her mouth as Willow sleeps cradled against his side.

“Had to just get a picture of your boss with his kids, right?” Harry taunts with irritation in his tone, “I don’t give a fuck about pictures of me - I’m an adult. The audacity you have to take a picture of my sleeping children.”

Heidi is scrambling for an explanation but she can’t find one.

“Human Resources will be able to answer any questions you may have about your termination - starting now. Delete that fucking photo off your phone or you will be hearing from my legal team,” He finishes before he’s moving the screen back and picking up his ringing phone, clearly ending the conversation.

[cecilebutcher]

「♭𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐎𝐥𝐲𝗺𝐩𝐢𝐚♭」

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Unmatched, witty and queen of

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!!Likes do nothing, Reblog instead!!

Tw: death, adultery(Aka cheating)

Daria is part of my twst x Greek mythology oc series. I highly encourage you to check it out^^

⊱Bᴀsɪᴄs⊰

Name: Daria Olympia

Age:18

Date of birth: July 1

Zodiac sign: Cancer

Hight:200cm

Dorm: Rosantée (a beautiful dorm made by @midnightmah07 & @viilpstick )

Class: 3A

Place of birth:

Mother: —

Father: Aegaeon Olympia (48)

Step mother: Eileen Olympia (50)

Brother: Lex Olympia (19)

Brother: Seraphim Olympia(19)

Sister: Cinda Olympia (17)

Brother: Cyrus Olympia (17)

Brother: Nestor Olympia (16)

Sibling: Aison Olympia (16)

Sister: Xena Olympia (6)

Dominant hand: both

Based off: Athena (Greek mythology)

Sexuality: on the Aroace spectrum, pansexual.

⊱Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ⊰

Daria is a 200cm teenager with olive skin with Cappuccino colored hair and grey eyes. Her hair is long thick and wavy that she usually has styled in a ponytail. She has tons of Beaty marks all over her body, the most noticeable ones being the ones on her face. She, surprisingly, has a lot of muscle on her body and tons of scars. She has a white tattoo on her neck that reaches down to her back.

⊱Vᴏɪᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ⊰

Maki (jjk dub)

⊱Cʟᴜʙ⊰

Debate club

⊱Bᴇsᴛ Sᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ⊰

History of magic. Conjuration

⊱Hᴏʙʙʏ⊰

Spear fighting. Martial arts. Hand to hand combat. Debating. Puzzles. Mind sports. Boxing. Reading.

⊱Bᴀᴄᴋsᴛᴏʀʏ⊰

Daria is one of 8 children to Aegaeon Olympia, a successful and extremely rich businessman who owns many companies. She’s the third eldest after her two twin brothers, Lex and Seraphim. Her mother died a few hours after giving birth to her. So she grew up with her father, brother and step mother, who wasn’t too found of her. While she shares the same father with all her siblings, she doesn’t share the same mother.

She’s closest to her younger brother, Nestor, as they both have a loving for travel and competition. But she’s also extremely close with her two sisters, Xena and Selena, as they are the only other girls in the house. As she grew up she also started getting closer to her step mother, while she used to hate her, blaming her for not being able to have both her parents, she now understands her and has a lot of respect for the lady for keeping to deal with her father.

⊱Sᴘᴇᴀᴄɪᴀʟ Mᴀɢɪᴄ⊰

-:Warrior of the mind:-

The ability to creat illusions that can be used for anything. Most of the time these illusions are used to map things out, like plans.

⊱Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs Oɴ Cʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs⊰

𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎: I’ve yet to meet Rosehearts, but I heard he can be a bit, how do I say, um, bossy. And that just won’t work with me. I don’t like being told what to do.

𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚢: I don’t know much about him in all honesty. So I have no opinion of him.

𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊: Ugh, I’ve met him once in my life. Never. Again. Honestly he’s just, ugh. I can’t believe I can’t find the word to describe how annoying and just, I hate him to say the least.

𝚁𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎: I have no opinion on him other than the fact that I feel sorry that he has to deal with Kingscholar.

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖: Ah, the Al-Asim heir. He’s quite nice, and is friends with my youngest sister. I like him in all honesty.

𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕: Viper is, well, interesting, to say the least. I like hearing his thoughts sometimes. He’s a bit uptight but I can rely on him if it ever came to it. And, I won’t lie, He’s quite beautiful and charming.

𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚕: I’ve never met Ashengrotto before, therefore I have no opinion on him. Next.

𝙹𝚊𝚍𝚎: I met him and his brother once a long, long, time ago. And that was too much for me in all honesty. I’ll simply stick with my idiotic siblings.

𝚅𝚒𝚕: Shoenheit is quite talented, I enjoy his movies quite a lot. He always has a way to make the characters come to life, and as my brother’s girlfriend noted, he’s quite pretty.

𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚔: Hunt is, a lot, to say the least. I personally have no interest in the man, but my younger sister seems to find his company nice.

𝙸𝚍𝚒𝚊: Ah, my idiotic Cousin. Honestly the whole situation he made in night Raven college a few months back is just embarrassing.

𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚜: His highness is someone who I highly respect. Nothing more to say to be honest.

𝙻𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊: Ah, I’ve met him once, he seems…… interesting to say the least. My younger brother seems to like him though.

𝙽𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚎: He’s a bit too naive for me. Sees the world as black and white, not my favorite person, or even in the top ten to be honest.

⊱Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ⊰

Positive traits: Smart, intelligent, clever, wise, Responsible, Reliable, Brave, strong, Confident, Independent, Loyal, Dedicated, Hard-working, Careful, Ambitious, Organized, Mature, Trustworthy, Talented, gifted, Stable, Punctual, Self-confident, Witty, Cooperative.

Negative traits: rude, power-hungry, Argumentative, Bossy, Possessive, Jealous, envious, Arrogant, Dangerous, Cold, Cunning, Petty, Self interested.

Neutral traits: Quiet, Calm, Honest, Sarcastic, Antisocial, Strict, Stubborn, Reserved, Serious.

⊱Fᴜɴ Fᴀᴄᴛs⊰

Is the smartest one of her siblings and was supposed to skin four years in school but decided against it.

While she’s not a very feminine girl, she still likes dressing up with her sisters.

She’s seen as the level headed one of the family.

She love sports, but adores strategy games.

She won countless competitions, some are chess, boxing, martial arts and even fencing.

She has an owl familiar that’s always near, maybe not in sight but it’s there.

Is cousins with Idia, and lowkey is done with his shit.

Is the designated babysitter(with Cyrus)

And I’m not talking about babysitting her youngest sister, Xena, I’m talking about babysitting her other siblings, even the ones older then her.

Has tons of scars around her body.

Had a white tattoo that starts from her neck and ends at her back.

Does not get along with Lex’s girlfriend, Lillian.

But they have mutual respect with each other and she’ll help her out if she really needed it.

Her closet if filled with classy clothes and suits.

She shares a room with Selena that’s just fillies with closets. It just has their clothes shoes and bags.

She doesn’t go shopping, Cyrus and Lillian just buy her clothes she likes.

↗continuing this point, if she does do her own shopping, Eileen and Selena are shopping with her online.

Captain of RSA’s debate club.

Was supposed to join the spell drive team but decided against it.

Is extremely close to one of her cousins, and thinks he’s the biggest pain in her ass, lovingly.

Her favorite nrc student is Jamil, and she sympathizes with his situation.

Speaking of Jamil, he has the biggest crush on her ever.

She know this, but decides to act like she doesn’t know since she doesn’t like him like that(maybe a bit, but not enough for a relationship)

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

Go check out the dorm made by @midnightmah07 and @viilpstick it’s super cool. And special thanks to Jorge Rivera-Herrans for Epic the musical cause I could not have figured most shit out without the playlist blasting in my ear😭

[araneapeixes]

I love your Shadowheart art, I'd love to see your Tav. Do you have any headcanons with you Tav and the party? Romance/friends bffs etc?

Omg that's so sweet, I can't believe someone is interested in seeing my Tav 😭❤️ This is her, her name is Ren, pronouns she/they (in game I sometimes switch between she/her and they/them using the magic mirror basically lol)

They're a half-drow fighter with urchin background, basically a scrappy street kid who had to learn to survive. Her main drive is that she would do anything for her friends, and as someone who had never worshipped any gods or had reason to trust in figures of authority, she just wants everyone to understand that they are fine the way they are and don't need the approval of some god. She doesn't seek authority or power and thinks that doing so never ends up being like, good for you (holding Astarion and Gale by the scruff of their necks)

Before the events of the game they'd say 'yeah i basically just want to survive and not be bothered lol' but when put in a situation where they have the power to help someone less fortunate they will ALWAYS take the opportunity to do so - too much of life spent being the one less fortunate!

Despite being a half-drow they'd never actually seen the Underdark before the events of the game and never met their drow father either so all that ancestry has really been to them is the assumptions people make.. In her appearance I was going for like, softer features than most drow seem to have and kind, human, brown eyes<3 You can'r rly see it in the pictures but she also has the neck rose tattoo.

They're a bit on the quiet and pensieve side (especially for a fighter) but have a cheeky sense of humour and always stay positive!!

This is the only art I've really done of Ren so far lol

Sketched it out after the first Shadowheart romance scene so YEAH Shart romance obviously hehe Ren was immediately drawn to her because 1)hot goth girl hiiiii and 2)she could see the incongruity between what SH said she was and believed and her actual morals and behaviour. And Ren's calm, kind and unjudgemental presence made Shadowheart trust her very quickly. Basically an immediate attraction and fascination that quickly turned into a strong bond, ik that's not very unique or interesting sorry they're just in louve<3

as for the other party members she feels very close to Astarion (just drawn to edgy bitches with a dark past ig!!) and is basically trying to domesticate him and show him the joys of found family. Karlach is also a very easy natural friend for her as they're similar in many ways although Ren is much quieter and less intense lol but they're Best Bros and drink beer together and arm wrestle and laugh at stupid shit

also good buds with Gale despite his initial romantic intentions and she helps him with the cooking<3 She admires Lae'zel and feels for her struggle a lot but had a bit of a harder time with her at first because of the rough bossiness but they grew closer over time and respect each other greatly. and loves Wyll obviously who doesn't love Wyll but rolls her eyes at his dramatic heroism. Really vibes with Jaheira's sense of humour and thinks shes hot too

[mangomonk]

if you could see me in the mirror

↳ summary: astarion loves riling up tav to see all her expressions, but to his mingled relief and chagrin, she never quite seems to notice his. (alternatively, astarion helps tav in a roundabout way, for the sake of his entertainment, he says.) ↳ content: mentions of blood, astarion is a little mean and very emotionally repressed ↳ a/n: surprise i'm also writing for bg3 now! i've given in to the BG3 brain rot, here is a scene of astarion and my tav that's been floating around in my mind. i haven't finished my playthrough yet and i'm lowkey making up monk lore as i go along because i can't find much online, but in this oneshot, monks wear robes and have the runes of their temple's values as body art (inspired by the tattoo options in the game) when they go to fancy schmancy events.

Astarion had an idea of what to expect as he hovered outside her door, seeking his next target for entertainment. He had first attempted Wyll and Karlach, but the heart eyes they were making at each other had been a disgusting enough signal for him to leave. Gale, expectedly, had gone off about his plans for Sorcerous Sundries for a tedious stretch of time and Shadowheart had been no fun until she had mentioned that Xuan had asked her for help getting ready for the coronation.

And that was how he had ended up outside the door to her room in the inn. He could nearly imagine her now. He had seen ceremonial robes before to know that they were boringly cut and modest to a fault — likely even more boringly cut and modest, in his opinion, given that they would be monk robes — but somehow he felt a twinge of anticipation linger in his stomach as he raised his hand to knock on her door. Maybe she’d have her hair freed from that dreadful braid — the thought made his anticipation heighten. And then it made him pause, half-bewildered, half-mortified by his excitement. Gods, I’m starting to lose it. Perhaps he would need to do some serious self reflecting after this. No, he was just bored, he reasoned, frowning, just as the door swung open.

“Shadowheart! Can you—” Xuan stopped abruptly, expression more frantic than he’s ever seen before scrunching in confusion at the sight of him. “Astarion?”

He was half correct in his expectations — her hair was freed from that dreadful braid. Only it hung in wild and uneven inky waves down her shoulders, half-curls sticking out at unruly angles. Some of them looked like right angles, he observed dimly in shock, likely an artifact of being in a braid for too long. That wasn’t the most shocking part, though it rendered him speechless enough.

Smeared across the left side of her cheek and neck were smudges of red. For a moment, panic flitted in him from its likeness to blood. Was she injured? And then another thought — had another vampire fed on her? He didn’t know which thought it was that made his stomach twist. But then upon second glance, he could see that it was too dull to be blood — paint.

“Gods, what happened to you?”

Despite the flicker of embarrassment that flashed across her face — and her entire appearance — Xuan did an admirable job at straightening indignantly, though he could see she was holding on tightly to any remaining scraps of dignity as she puffed her chest out like a proud bird. 

“I’m getting ready,” she said simply.

“I would never have been able to tell, darling,” he observed, gloating to himself as he watched her bristle. This could be fun, he thought, his gaze falling to another smudge of paint that had smeared towards her jawline. Before she could protest, he stepped past her into her room. 

“If you’re here just to make fun of me, let’s save both of us the energy.”

“I’m not here just to make fun of you. I’m here to make fun of you and help,” he said, taking a glance around her room. It was sparsely decorated, just as he had expected. Boring.

“Help,” she echoed, in clear disbelief.

Astarion cleared his throat, throwing her a glance over his shoulder as he stepped up to the table where she had laid out a small tub of red paint. “Less of help you, and more of help me,” he corrected easily. “What would the others think of me if our sweet little leader looks as though she’s just come from battle to the coronation?”

Through the mirror, he could see her scowl at him. “Perhaps they would think twice to cross us,” she said mulishly. 

“Yes, I imagine they’ll frighten at the sight of your hair. Maybe take some psychic damage,” Astarion waved her off dismissively, biting back a grin at her clear displeasure. “Sit,” he said, arching a brow at her challengingly. For a moment, he thought she was going to argue, but to his surprise, her scowl faltered and she trudged over dutifully to the chair, her demeanor not unlike one of a prisoner being led to the gallows. He bit back another grin, before it slackened into incredulity at the sight of her red-stained fingers. “Did you try to do this with your hands ? I know you prefer unarmed strikes, but darling, that doesn't have to apply for makeup.”

To her credit, Xuan looked embarrassed, her expression turned as meek as he thought he’d ever see it. “I— You know—” she started, her golden gaze flitting away from him. A part of him reveled a little in her sheepish expression — it wasn’t often he had ever seen the stoic-faced monk abashed.

During their travels he had seen her face pale close to death, her tired triumphant grin while covered in the blood of others, the grimly determined set to her brow as she set foot in the goblin camp, her unimpressed and irritated scowl when he crossed the line, her faint laugh lines with Wyll and Karlach by the campfire. Though most of his attempts at propositioning her or irritating her mostly rolled off her shoulders, the occasional glare from her always stirred up a sense of satisfaction and something else within him. He liked to think that her general lack of reaction to his seduction and flirtation was her monk discipline, rather than a signal to her level of attraction to him because he could always feel her shuddering in his hands before he's about to feed, her eyes blown wide and dark. And because Astarion was too proud — and he would never admit it, but insecure — that to think otherwise would be nearly unbearable.

Astarion had discovered during their travels that for a stolid monk, she had a wide and entertaining range of expressions. But this meek expression was new. He tucked the image carefully into the back of his mind as he watched her fumble for a moment longer before admitting quietly, “I thought it would be easier than a brush.”

Ah , he thought dumbly. That was right, she still wasn’t comfortable with the brush. He ignored the twinge of guilt — what did he have to feel guilty for? He was already lending a hand more than he normally would have. And if anything, it should have been the wizard trying to teach her how to read and write that should feel guilty. He had seen the small sessions the two held in Gale’s tent in the later hours of the evening after dinner. Astarion was sure Gale was going at a rate too fast for the illiterate monk to keep up with. He could almost bet his newfound freedom that Gale launched right into trying to have her read some ancient spell scripture. If it had been him teaching her, he surely would’ve started with getting familiar with holding a brush properly. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Right, well, if you tell me the runes, I’ll paint them for you,” he said finally after a moment, unable to think of any worthy gibe.

“May I?” She put her hand out. Without really thinking, he nodded. His first mistake. Or maybe his first mistake had been seeking her out in the first place. Though he would never have been able to pinpoint it directly, there had been a reason he had sought out the entertainment of the others first.

“Vitality, sincerity, and compassion,” she recited automatically, straightening. Before he could even sneer at her words, his contempt faltered as she grabbed his wrist gently to flip his hand over. “They look like this,” she said, with enough earnest pride that would have made his sneer deepen had he not been so caught off guard by her fingers around his wrist and hand as she began to trace out the rune along his palm. The ghost of her finger against his palm made his skin itch. Very suddenly, Astarion was swept with the overwhelming urge to flee.

“I know what they look like,” he blurted harshly, resisting the urge to snatch back his hand. Or to wrap it around hers.

“Oh, right of course,” she said, looking embarrassed again as she withdrew her hand. “I wasn’t sure if there might be ancient runes and modern ones or…”

It very well might have been in ancient runes, he realized, inwardly wishing he had actually paid attention to the character she had been tracing. No matter, he told himself as he turned away from her gaze. Knowing monks and their ridiculous fixation on tradition and discipline, they were probably in ancient runes. Astarion picked up the damp cloth on the table and re-wet it into the small tub of water. The water was already stained pink, and her cheek looked as though she had just begun to rub vigorously at it.

“Right, well, I’ll get to it,” he announced to the air as he brought the damp cloth across her cheek, focusing his attention on the droplet that began to slide towards her jaw rather than the unabashed way she was watching him. There was no reason for him to be flustered, but he could feel an unwanted bundle of nerves growing in his stomach. Irritably, he slipped his hand below her chin to tilt her head back, half to get a better angle, half to see her reaction. He was sure it wasn’t the leftover paint that made her cheeks redden. Feeling right-footed again, he smirked down at her, before using the dry end of the cloth to absorb any remaining droplets against her skin. 

He lifted the brush and began on the first rune. At the feeling of the brush against her skin — or perhaps, she realized staring at him openly was awkward at best — her eyes fluttered shut as she sat still in the chair.

Despite the warning bells in his mind, Astarion took the moment to study her face carefully. Her brows were strong, perhaps too strong for her face, but relaxed, rather than furrowed as he normally saw them, they gave her a younger expression. Her lashes were long, but devastatingly straight, a stark contrast to the curl that had fallen against her temple. It’s the damn braid , he thought, not for the first time that day.  Her nose was also boringly unassuming, neither fit for her face nor not fit her face. A scar from their battle at the goblin camp had healed to be a thin, white line atop the bridge of her nose, faint against the tan of her skin. His gaze dropped lower. Her lower lip was fuller than her top, a soft pink that mirrored a familiar hue that he couldn’t quite place. He stared at them for a moment longer — in an attempt to try to remember where he had seen the color before.

All in all, her features separately were rather unremarkable, he decided. Nondescript, even. So why was it, that when her disastrously boring features were put together, she looked so—

“Astarion?”

Her uncertain voice snapped him out of his musings as he tore his gaze away from her lips — he had still been trying to place the color — only to see that her eyes were open now, her too-strong brows furrowing slightly. 

“Did you forget the rune?”

He blinked at her, and then the half-finished rune on her cheek. Right. He was painting it on her cheek. 

He swallowed the unsettling feeling that he had never properly looked at her before. “No,” he sniffed indignantly. “I was just considering the placement. To add some life to your rather dull face.” He added, rather unnecessarily.

Perhaps because the bite was only half there, the insult seemed to roll off of her effortlessly. “Traditionally, it’s supposed to stretch down to my collar,” she said, pulling back the ink of her hair and twisting it across her other shoulder to reveal her neck.

Astarion stared at the nape of her neck blankly for a moment before recovering, drawing himself into a carefully neutral expression. It must have been because he was a vampire spawn that something in him stirred at the sight of the long column of her neck. Yes, that was why. Though his fangs didn’t even ache with hunger, and rather, the ache seemed to come from deep within his chest. “Ah, my favorite part of your body. Or one of my many favorites, beautiful,” he drawled, though his voice came out more forced than seductive. 

“You just said my face was dull,” she grumbled under her breath. If he didn't know better, he would have said she looked miffed. But Astarion knew that his words never had any effect on her.

“Yes, but your body? Riveting,” he said easily. “Whatever training the temples had you doing was good .” He drew out the last word, giving her a cursory once over.

Xuan snorted good-naturedly, but maybe it was because of their proximity, that he could see the way her face crumple briefly, the corners of her lips twitching into the slightest of frowns, before her gaze darted away from his. Astarion suddenly felt the ridiculous urge to take back his words. Maybe even apologize. Instead, he ran his tongue over the point of his fang. “Sincerity, was it?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

She nodded and he dipped the brush back into the red paint. He stepped closer, half in the bracket of her legs and bent at the waist so that they were eye to eye. To get a better view of where he was going to be painting, of course. He slipped his free hand into her disastrous waves to cradle the back of her head, tilting it back to allow better access to her neck. At the familiar motion, a flash of an image of him biting her neck one of those many nights flickered distractingly across his mind. She must have had the same thought, because she stiffened in his hands briefly, before relaxing wonderfully.

Silly girl, he wanted to shout. Didn't she now it was dumb and naive for letting your guard down around a vampire? He wanted to take her by the shoulders and give her a good shake and scold to put some sense into her. But he didn’t. Because this was exactly what he had wanted — a shield for himself with her guard down so that he could easily manipulate. Somehow though, he didn’t quite feel the triumph he thought he would.

Astarion swallowed thickly and carefully painted the next ruin right below her jaw, ignoring how the strokes on this ruin came out shakier than the previous. “Compassion is next?” The question came out somewhat strained.

She hummed in confirmation. His vision narrowed to the slope of her neck as he watched her throat bob. This one was to go at the nape of her neck. At the touch of the brush, she shivered a little in his hands. Normally, Astarion would have felt a sense of smug satisfaction at the sight, but this time he nearly dropped the brush. He took a shuddering breath he didn’t need and quickly, hastily, finished painting the ruin.

“Done,” he said, taking a quick step back. “That’ll be 200 gold for my artwork.”

She laughed, which did little to still the trembling feeling he still had in his hands. She turned to the mirror to inspect his work, her expression softening. “I haven’t had these ruins on me in ages. It reminds me of home,” she sighed, her voice tinged with awe and warmth. Her eyes were bright and pleased as a flicker of nostalgia flashed across her face. “Thank you, Astarion.” Though the fondness was clearly for the sight of the ruins, he felt a little cracked open. Flayed raw.

Astarion was, perhaps for the first time in two centuries, suddenly very glad that he had no reflection in the mirror that she could see as he watched her fond expression — he was very sure that his would give him away. It was always to his mingled relief and chagrin that she never seemed to notice his expression when he looked at her.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Banner art by @mwolf0epsilon

Name Etymology

As a young cadet, Gloss spent a lot of time in his own head. He loved to daydream. However, the daydreaming and introverted tendencies left him a little unawares. He had a tendency to wander off from the squad, and when it came to relaying orders in practicums, he'd always gloss over the most important details, leaving the squad in awkward and almost dangerous positions. As an adult, he's still spacey, but he's better at communicating.

Personality

Gloss is one of the middles of Phoenix Squad, and isn't in charge of anything, for good reason. He has the most laid back personality in the squad. In fact, he's so laid back that nothing ever rattles him. He spends most of his time in his own head thinking, holding entire conversations, and coming up with his next masterpiece. His spaciness gets him and the squad in trouble, but he is incredibly smart and can do intricate calculations in his head. He is also artistically talented and spends more time sketching than doing anything else.

Mood Boards:

Here

Alphabets:

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

View his tags -> #oc: gloss

Physical Appearance

Gloss has the standard clone physique, and somehow stays fit without working out. He dyes his hair turquoise blue, and he keeps it the standard regulation length. Gloss does not have any facial hair, scarring, or piercings on his body, but he does have turquoise butterfly tattoos on either side of his neck that trail down to his spine, as well as the memorial tattoo on his chest for Chance.

Character Art:

Greyscale Bust

Character Timeline

Early Cadet Years:

CT-3058, or Gloss, never cried once after he was decanted. Gloss was always a solitary clone, never really clicking with the idea of the "brotherhood". He preferred his own company. The squad had a difficult time adjusting to his chill personality, and Brett tried to throw him off his game more than once, but it never worked. Gloss spent all of his free time sketching and drawing in his notebook. As a cadet, Gloss wanted to be an ARF scout in the GAR.

Invasion of Kamino:

During the invasion of Kamino in 21 BBY, Gloss and the other members of Phoenix Squad followed Tungst to the outer rings of Tipoca City as part of the frontal assault. With limited resources and training as a seventh year, Gloss used whatever armor and blaster Tungst gave him. During the firefight, Chance left his position behind the barricade with Drip to render medical aid to a group of wounded clone cadets caught in a blast. Gloss noticed, but was too engaged with a battle droid to say anything. When the commotion arose between Brett and Tungst, Gloss turned to see another missile careening towards Chance. There was nothing he could do. Gloss pulled back behind the barricade after the dust settled and watched Chance die in Tungst's arms.

Aftermath of Chance's Death:

After Chance's death, the squad was never quite the same. Because of Gloss's personality, he didn't show much outward emotion towards Chance's death, which put off the rest of the squad. However, he was channeling emotions, just through his sketching. He became more withdrawn than usual and spent more time in his sketchbook than around his squad. After Drip attempted to end his own life over Chance's death, Gloss visited Drip in the medbay and gave him a sketch of him and Chance.

Order 66:

Order 66 was just another day for Phoenix Squad. Gloss received the news of the Jedi betraying the Republic from Tungst and their training continued without much interruption.

Destruction of Tipoca City:

Imperial Service:

Fanfiction

Icon Guide -> HERE

✍️🏻✅️♀️❤️☀️ Soup Assault

Updated: 5/11/2024

Navigation Page

*When I commissioned Eps to make the character banners, I sent her some stick figure references I made in Canva. For laughs and giggles, I've added it to the post.*

[spaceclefairy]

The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, Ch. 17

Pairing: Michael de Santa/ OFC; Trevor Philips/OFC; Michael de Santa/OFC/Trevor Philips; Michael de Santa/Trevor Philips

Summary: Los Santos is a hellscape, but if you’ve got brains and a little determination, it can be a real hell of a playground. Michael needs money, Trevor needs whatever Trevor wants, and Franklin’s moving up in Los Santos. Jen’s just along for the ride.

This is gonna be fun.

Author’s Note: I’ve been writing this beast of a thing since 2013. It’s been through a thousand different incarnations, but it’s been in my drafts for the last six years. I realize this fandom isn’t as popular as it used to be, but I might as well have a little fun and finally start posting it.

Also, not to be that bitch, but this is on Ao3. I would very much appreciate kudos/comments, if you’re so inclined!

Tagging: @verbo-volant for being an inspiration always

Part 1  ||   Part 2  ||  Part 3  ||  Part 4  ||  Part 5  ||  Part 6  ||  Part 7  ||  Part 8  ||  Part 9  ||  Part 10  ||  Part 11  ||  Part 12  ||  Part 13  ||  Part 14 || Part 15 || Part 16

--- --- ---

Senora Freeway, Three Years Ago

Michael’s flying down the Senora Freeway, Jen’s in the passenger's seat, Night Moves is playing gently in the background, and life is fucking good.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Jen asks, leaning over to card her fingers through the back of his hair. “What's your curfew?”

“Haven't got one tonight,” Michael says, leaning into her hand. “Amanda's out of town for the weekend. We can do whatever you want, baby.”

“Really? Whatever I want, huh?” Jen teases, rubbing his neck. She can see one of his tattoos peeking just over the edge of his collar, and she runs her finger across it. “We could… go see a movie? There's a drive-in on the edge of the canyon right before the county line. We could grab some greasy takeout and not pay attention to whatever they're showing.”

“And what would we be doing instead of paying attention?” Michael shivers from the brush of her fingertips, a full-body shiver that runs from his shoulder to his toes. 

Jen laughs. “Fucking in the backseat, duh. That's what drive-ins are for.”

Michael chuckles to himself - that sounds like a good plan to him. “What if we get caught? Don't want you to lose your job or anything.”

“Please, we're so short-staffed, that old codger wouldn't fire me if I set the mayor's house on fire,” Jen says with a grin. She kicks off her shoes and crosses her legs up in the passenger's seat, relaxing against the door. “He’s gone senile anyway. We’re all just trying to stay afloat.”

“You should run against him, bring in some new blood.”

“Me? DA?” Jen snorted. “I'm not really much for leadership. Or politics.”

“I think you'd be good at it,” Michael replied. His hand settled on her thigh, squeezing her knee briefly. “You’re smart, you’re hard-working - you’ve got the Los Santos look. Good face for politics.”

“Maybe I'll think about it,” Jen shrugs. She’s never one to get sheepish, but she can't deny she's flattered. “Hey, turn here - let’s grab Cluckin’ Bell and head to the drive-in.”

--- --- ---

Present Day

Thanks to Michael, Jen had been in a bad mood all weekend.

Saturday had been little more than a nuisance - a formality of time enforced by the sheer ticking of a clock. Jen had given up calling or texting Michael not long after he'd bolted Friday night, leaving Saturday an open wound. She passed the irritable hours by sticking her nose in her laptop and coming up for air for coffee, and coffee alone.

Sunday was just another twenty-four hours of blind irritation stemming from hurt and confusion. Sunday was spent on the couch watching reruns of old mafia movies and nursing a bottle of wine.

Monday, well… Monday was not a good day to be this angry. It was a status hearing for Jen’s serial killer trial - the trial that would last at least a month. The hearing was a formality - little more than standing up to tell the judge that, yes, the State is ready for trial, and, yes, half the LSPD and FIB are witnesses on said trial, and, yes, it will take at least a month to try.

And, while Jen prided herself on etiquette and professionalism within the courtroom, that Monday was not her finest day. Jen was seething, and everyone could tell. Therefore, no one would talk to her, nothing was getting worked out, and nothing was getting done - at least, not for her cases.

When Jen’s case was called, she stood in her tall, tall heels, the spiky ones she wore specifically on days like today, and stood at the podium in front of the judge. "The State is ready to proceed with trial."

The judge, a curmudgeonly woman in her late sixties, similarly, and perhaps impossibly, was in a worse mood because a month-long trial wasn’t going to be enjoyable for anyone. The judges - especially this one in particular - did not like it when Jen announced that a trial would take place, as Jen's trials generally took a week or more.

The judge sighed. "How long do you expect this to take, Ms. Dixon?"

"Three weeks, maybe four. There's eight counts of murder in the first degree and nearly forty witnesses."

The judge, deadpan, asked, "Seriously?"

Jen nodded, tapping her pen against the podium. "Serious as a heart attack, Judge. This is the serial killer the FIB arrested last year."

The judge looked as if she'd like to retire immediately. "Alright, we'll set it down for trial. I'll send out the scheduling order this afternoon."

Jen stepped away from the podium, click-clacking back to the State's table. The other attorneys hastily made room for her, careful not to scoot too close. With the exception of MaryAnn, they all seemed to be mightily preoccupied with the files in their hands. MaryAnn, on the other hand, stared her down with every step.

Leave it to MaryAnn to be the only person unafraid to ask. She leaned over to whisper in Jen’s ear. "What crawled up your ass?"

Despite Jen’s irritation, she almost smiled. "Nothing."

MaryAnn rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, I haven't seen you this angry at work since the morning after you went on that date with Haines."

That had been an exceptionally bad day, after an exceptionally bad date. They did not speak of that date. Nor the day that followed.

"We agreed never to talk about that." Jen crossed her arms and watched another lawyer stand up for his case. "Mike's being a dick."

"Did you have a fight?" MaryAnn asked. She watched the judge out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her next case to be called while she chatted with Jen.

"More like he fucked me seven ways to Sunday and ran out of my apartment before he'd even zipped up his pants. And didn’t bother to answer the phone."

"Ouch," MaryAnn winced. "Want me to cover for you so you can go home?"

Jen shook her head. "No, I've got too much to do, and we need to keep prepping for trial. I'll take care of it tonight."

"I feel sorry for him…"

"I wouldn't if I were you."

As Jen sat at the table monitoring the goings-on of the courtroom, her phone vibrated. She frowned down at it when Michael’s name flashed across the screen. 

Michael: dinner @ natalias @ 6

How eloquent. Michael wasn't known for his hip-and-happening texting skills. 

Jen: okay

She received no further reply, which wasn't unexpected even on a good day. Nevertheless, she spent a few too many seconds glaring down at the screen. Two of her employees (who had been watching carefully to make sure a blow-up wasn’t imminent) vacated their seats and scurried away, pretending to discuss a case they were working together. She rolled her eyes at their retreating backs, but she could admit it wasn’t their worst idea to go run and hide.

Jen chewed on her lip, deep in thought, until she tasted the rust of blood. Dinner could go one of several ways. Michael could ignore the problem - that was the most likely possibility. He could bring presents and buy her dinner and expect that to fix things. Or, equally possible, he could finally run the other way. That… also wouldn’t be entirely unexpected. Whatever method Michael decided to try, Jen had already determined a conversation needed to be had. 

Once court had adjourned, Jen grabbed MaryAnn and led her back to her office.

“We have to call Haines and Norton,” Jen said. “They worked the last of the murders before his arrest, so we need to start working on their testimony.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want to take your anger out on your favorite punching bags?” MaryAnn asked, curling up on her favorite chair in Jen’s office. She stared up at the whiteboard where Jen had drawn out their trial plan. “You’re not going to have one of them sit with us, are you?”

“I was planning on Haines sitting at the table with us. He has public appeal with that dumbass TV show,” Jen replied, tapping out a message on her phone. She usually tried to warn Haines before she called him. She dialed after she sent the message. “As much as I don’t want him there, he has good ratings - might help with the jury's perception of us.”

Both Jen and MaryAnn were well-known for being rather… contentious during trial.

“I hate it when you’re right… sometimes,” MaryAnn said. She quieted when Haines answered the phone on the third ring.

Haines’s voice rang loud and clear over the speaker. “How can I help you, Jenny?”

Jen’s eye twitched. “That serial killer you and Norton arrested last year is electing to exercise his constitutional right to a trial. Clear your schedule - you’re sitting at the table with us.”

“I guess you need a pretty face for when the camera’s come rolling in,” Haines commented loftily. “I don’t know… I’ll have to check my filming schedule.”

“Well, when I serve you your subpoena and you don’t show up,” Jen started as MaryAnn snickered quietly in her seat, “I can have you arrested on your own TV show. How's that for ratings?”

“Eh, I guess I could use some more screen time,” he corrected quickly. He wouldn’t put it past her to actually do it. “I’ll make sure to let my makeup artist know.”

“If you fuck up this testimony and this guy walks, don’t forget your home address is public…”

Haines scoffed quietly. “Calm down, Jenny. When have I ever fucked up testimony?”

Irritatingly, the answer was never. Haines, for all his flaws and despite his patriarchal athleisure wear, was actually fairly good on the stand. He was somehow able to charm a jury, despite the glaring surface flaws and deep-seated jackassery.

“Just be prepared. You’ll be on the stand for a couple of days,” Jen said, "And wear a fucking suit. I don't want you up there looking like you're going out for a round of golf."

“Yeah, fine.”

Jen hung up. MaryAnn was still snickering quietly in her chair.

“Well, if all goes poorly with your old man boyfriend, there’s always Steve Haines.”

“I would genuinely rather die, MaryAnn.”

--- --- ---

Michael was late. Of course, he was late. Even neutral ground for a conversation wouldn’t make that man deal with the consequences of his actions in a timely fashion.

Jen took a sip of her wine. It was good wine, she determined. She’d already asked the hostess (a woman she’d become incredibly friendly with over the years of being a steady and dedicated patron) to bag up an extra bottle to take home. She had a feeling she was going to need a tall, stiff drink when she got home. 

Jen already knew where this date was going just by virtue of Michael being late, and Michael was clearly having trouble getting himself together to do it.

She could tell him that it was okay, that she was expecting it. She could tell him she'd always known it would end like this - that they'd had a good ride together. She could be kind and make this easier for him, just get up and grab her bags and forget that he existed. And make him pay for the meal, obviously. 

But Jen certainly wasn’t known for being kind. If Michael was going to do this, she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

Michael finally arrived, dressed in his usual suit and tie. Judging by the pink flush on his cheeks, he’d had a couple of drinks before he’d walked in - a little liquid courage. Jen watched him idly as he sat down and adjusted his tie, though it didn’t need to be adjusted. He was looking anywhere but at Jen, though she’d fixed him with a cool, even stare. 

Finally, Jen spoke, tone flat. "Explain."

"I don't really know what to say…"

She cocked her head to the side. "Take your time."

"I- uh," Michael trailed off as though words had entirely escaped him. He paused, trying to hold himself firm against Jen's colder-than-death stare. "I'm- well, I'm- fuck - I'm sorry for runnin' out the other night-"

"I didn't ask for an apology, Mike. I said explain."

Michael knew his choices were limited. He could take what he determined was the chicken-shit way out: apologize and keep on doing this with Jen. Or, he could do what he figured was the right thing to do if he wanted Amanda back - break it off right here and now.

Begrudgingly, Michael admitted Trevor was right - he had to let one of them go. And he'd chosen Jen.

Time to pony up.

"Jen, I can't keep doing this," Michael said, his voice hollow. It's like he couldn't hear the words coming out of his mouth - like he was trapped in an icy bubble. "I mean, we had a good ride. It's been a good six years-"

"Seven years."

Michael coughed. Right. "Seven years. But we knew we'd have to move on from this eventually."

Jen crossed her arms. "Uh-huh."

"Look, you deserve someone who can give you a good life."

"I have a good life as it is, but keep talking if you’d like,” Jen said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I'm still married, Jen.”

That, despite Michael's attempt at a hushed whimper, caught the attention of the table next to them. Two blondes, one tall and statuesque even sitting, the other squat and muscular, ducked their heads together and traded sideways looks.

“Oh, I'm aware, but did it ever cross your mind that you’re married when you were getting your dick wet?” Jen asked, tone getting icier by the minute. “Or when you dragged me into your new bank-robbing 80's movie reboot?"

Michael struggled to keep his temper in check. If he raised his voice, which he knew he shouldn’t do, she’d lose her shit on him (which was not something he ever wanted to experience and would ultimately make things worse). And then he’d lose his shit on her (again, not something he'd ever done nor wanted to experience). He didn’t want to have a screaming match or some knock-down, drag-out fight in the middle of this restaurant. He’d wanted this to be as quick and painless as possible, but he had a short temper and a bad mouth.

"Yeah, I’m sure you really hated the money you got from those jobs. You're really gonna pull the morality card on me right now?" Michael snapped. “You knew I was married from the get-go. I never hid that from you.”

And with that, quick and painless fell out resolutely out of reach.

Jen sneered. “Morality got thrown out the window seven years ago when I fucked you on my couch. You don't give a shit about me or Amanda. You just want your idyllic little life back, with your white picket fence and wife and two-point-five kids and all that shit."

Jen had never spoken to him like this before - not this icy, toneless clip. Screaming was one thing, yelling and cussing another, but this emotionless, icicle tone was downright terrifying. Michael thought he might prefer yelling.

"We never agreed on anything more than strictly casual and you know it!” Michael snapped. He wanted to disengage, he really did, but he was notoriously terrible at backing down. 

The neighboring table was outright staring now, more out of the Los Santos love for drama than any real concern.

"Doesn't matter what we agreed to at this point, especially considering the past few months. This arrangement is no longer strictly casual, Michael,” Jen said. “Whose bed did you sleep in when Amanda left you, huh? Who’d you come running to?"

Michael leaned in, trying to keep his voice down, and failing. "Why are you making this harder than it has to be?"

Jen pointed at him, her long, tapered nail ending in a point. "Because you know how I feel, and you know how you feel, and you’re just blindly fucking ignoring it."

"I've got to take care of my family."

"I’m not telling you not to take care of your family,” Jen hissed, “I’m telling you not to go back to someone who made you miserable for twenty years, and who, I’m sure, you made equally as miserable.” 

Michael didn’t have an answer, because Jen wasn’t wrong.

"The fact of the matter is, you want this to be easy for you. This is not easy for me, and I am not going to make this easy for you, Michael," Jen snapped. This was an absolute promise. “You’ve always walked away from everything you’ve done scott-free - not this time."

"Well, don't worry, you'll get your wish. I gotta carry this with me every fucking day."

"And I hope you carry it with pride."

With that, Michael stopped and took a deep breath. He cared, he really did. And Michael, in his infinite capacity to make everything worse, went for the final blow. "Look, I care about you, Jen. I lov-"

"Don't." She uncrossed her arms and stood up. "Don’t say another fucking word - I don’t want to hear it. You are such an asshole."

"Jen, come on-"

Jen grabbed her bag and coat, retrieved her bottle of wine from the hostess station, and left, the restaurant door swinging shut behind her. Michael could pay for the fucking waters and the bottle of whiskey he was probably about to order - Jen was out of there. The valet, taking a quick look at the expression on her face, wasted no time retrieving her car.

Of course, Michael would pull that card. Jen wasn't stupid - and neither was Michael. Both emotionally stunted, stubborn fools - but not stupid. That had manifested years ago, but, of course, the end would be the moment Michael decided to pull it out.

Asshole. 

Jen revved her car and turned out into Los Santos traffic. God, it would be weeks before she’d be able to go back to Natalia’s after that blowout. She couldn’t stop herself from letting it get out of hand, and there was no way Michael wasn’t going to make a scene. How embarrassing. She’d have to leave an extra tip next time.

She didn't want to go home yet, not after that. She needed someplace to cool down, get a clear head. Some catharsis. 

Tequi-la-la’s would be a good place to cool down. Have a couple of drinks, grab some bar food since she’d never actually ordered at the restaurant. Find someone to take home with her. Yep, that was the best plan. Alcohol, food, and a quick fuck. Mends broken hearts, does the trick every time. Well, probably not this time, but self-destruction was the only option Jen would consider right now.

Yet, rather than taking the exit for Tequi-la-la’s, Jen found herself turning right onto the Strawberry exit. A short drive later, and the glow of the Vanilla Unicorn sign flooded the dark streets. She’d driven around aimlessly until she’d seen the giant neon sign and cut into the parking lot. 

Catharsis. She could get catharsis here, too. She cut the engine on her Jester and sat staring up at the flashing lights.

“Fuck.”

Jen slammed the Jester door behind her and locked the car. She was greeted at the door by the bouncers by name, asked if she wanted her usual table by the hostess. She declined and headed straight up to the bar.

Tiffany, blonde Tiffany - one of Jen's favorite girls at the Unicorn - was bartending tonight. Jen didn't prefer blondes, but Tiffany was undeniably gorgeous and surprisingly quite sweet. And she made a great cocktail. And gave great head. 

Jen leaned against the bar and waved Tiffany over. “You busy?”

“Kind of,” Tiffany snorted. She looked around and saw that she was not, in fact, all that busy, so she shook her head. “Actually, not really. Mondays are slow. Speaking of which, why are you here?”

“Bad day,” Jen responded. “Came in for a drink and… to say hi. Take a break?”

Tiffany raised an eyebrow and called over her shoulder. “Jill, I’m going on break. Be back… eventually.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jen grinned. “Hey, have you seen Trevor tonight?”

“Uh, yeah, I think he’s in the office. Why?”

“Got a problem with using the office?”

“With him in it?”

“Maybe, if he’s lucky.”

Tiffany shook her head. “No problem at all.”

“Good girl,” Jen said with a wink. “Let’s go.”

Tiffany ducked out from behind the bar and led Jen back towards the office, pulling her by the hand past the private rooms where thudding music filled the dark hallway. Bouncers lined the wall, standing guard past the curtains in case customers got too rough with the girls. Judging by the soft sound of panting, some of the bouncers had been paid extra to look the other way.

Trevor's office was down at the end of the hall, but the girls didn't quite make it there before Jen pulled Tiffany into a heated kiss. One of the bouncers gave them a look, more out of curiosity than concern, then went back to monitoring the couple past the curtains. It wasn't like the bouncers didn't know what was going on - they'd all seen Jen with a girl or two before - but what happened at the Unicorn, stayed at the Unicorn.

Jen shoved a hand up Tiffany's cropped shirt, finding no bra to impede her in her goal, and busied herself playing with Tiffany's nipple. Tiffany wound her hand into Jen's hair and shoved her back against the wall.

“How do you want to do this?” Tiffany asked, panting in Jen's ear.

Jen tweaked her nipple until she moaned, thumb circling the nub relentlessly. “Whatever happens, happens. You okay with Trevor joining in?”

Tiffany nodded. “Fine with me. You give the word.”

“Safe word is pineapple if you get uncomfortable,” Jen said. “Now, come on, I want to stick my tongue in your pussy.”

They didn’t bother knocking on the door - it was unlocked anyway. Cue Trevor doing whatever it is that Trevor does in this vacant office (currently, snorting coke off the desk). ‘

He looked up and broke out into a grin. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“Shut up,” Jen said as she backed Tiffany up against the desk. “You can stay as long as you’re quiet.”

Trevor mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

Jen nudged Tiffany onto her elbows on the desk and sank down to her knees in front of her. She hiked Tiffany's skirt up her thighs and peeled her underwear down before sealing her lips over her slit.

Tiffany's hand gripped the roots of her hair. “Ah - getting right to it, babe?”

“Mhm,” was as much of a response as Jen could give with her mouth full. She flicked her tongue along her slit, pausing to suck at her clit, before spreading her open with her fingers and sinking two digits in. She pumped her fingers in and out, tonguing the space in between with reverence, until her mouth was soaked and fingers were dripping.

Tiffany grabbed Jen’s shoulders and arched up into her mouth, thighs shaking. “Fuck, Jen - right there -”

Jen could just barely hear Trevor unzip his pants over the sound of Tiffany panting, but hear it she did. She stopped sucking Tiffany's clit and stood up, leaning over the girl on the desk so she could kiss her.

“Okay so far?” Jen asked softly, mumbling against Tiffany's mouth. Her black lipstick was smeared down her chin, and Jen could only imagine what her own face looked like.

The breathless yes made Jen smile.

“Do something for me?” Jen asked. “Go fuck Trevor. If he doesn’t finish you, I will.”

Tiffany nodded and stood shakily up from the desk. She crossed over to where Trevor sat and climbed into his lap. He moved to grab her ass, but stopped when Jen told him no.

“You don't touch. I touch, you be quiet and take what we give you. Understood?”

He stared over Tiffany’s shoulder at Jen and nodded. To his credit, he followed orders and didn’t speak, likely because he thought Jen would tell Tiffany to stop if he did. (She wouldn’t have, not this time. This was a night for catharsis, not discipline.) 

Jen stood behind Tiffany and held her hips steady as she slid down onto Trevor's fat cock. She reached up and tucked Tiffany’s hair away so she could trail kisses down her neck as Tiffany grinded down on Trevor’s lap.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, Trevor?” Jen said, reaching around to play with Tiffany’s nipples while Trevor watched. “Tiffany’s so fun to play with. Too bad you can’t touch.”

He leaned his head back against the top of the chair and groaned, eyes squeezed shut. His knuckles had turned white from the force of clutching the arms of his chair, the pulse point in his neck fluttering, tendons tight.

“Open your eyes and watch, Trevor,” Jen said, teasing one of Tiffany’s nipples before reaching down to play with her clit. “If you’re a good boy and make Tiffany come first, I’ll fuck you, too.”

Another groan, but it makes him buck up into Tiffany, matching her pace. Tiffany moaned in turn, one hand gripping Trevor's forearm, the other hand wrapped around Jen's hand while she played with her clit.

Jen grinned, spreading the slick over Tiffany's clit. She reached further, massaging the place where Trevor's cock plunged into her. “How’s that feel, Tiff?”

“Good - so good-”

“Gonna come for us?”

A high-pitched, breathy yeah. 

Jen grabbed Tiffany's chin and turned her head so she could kiss her. She felt the tremor wrack Tiffany's body as she came, the sharp moan spilling from her lips muffled by Jen's mouth. 

Beneath them, Trevor was absolutely wrecked, hips stuttering as he rode out Tiffany's orgasm without succumbing to the one threatening to slam through him. His bottom lip was caught between his wolfish teeth, eyes wild, knuckles so white from the strain that Jen could almost see the veins running through his hands. He still didn't speak, but he stared a hole through Jen's forehead, silently begging to come.

Jen held onto Tiffany's hips as she climbed off of Trevor's cock, keeping her steady. Trevor's hand immediately fisted around his shaft, pumping viciously to keep his high going.

Jen kissed Tiffany again, this time gently. “You okay, Tiff?”

“I'm great, sugar,” Tiffany replied. “Do you want me to stick around?”

“Yeah, I like when you watch,” Jen replied. “Besides, someone should watch Trevor get fucked like a good boy.”

Jen turned back towards Trevor, watching him beg silently as he fisted himself. “You can talk if you're good.”

Trevor nodded furiously, groaning. “I'll be good - I'll be so good, Jen, please -”

“I know you will, baby boy,” Jen said, lifting the hem of her dress out of the way as she straddled Trevor's lap. “You always do such a good job for your Princess Jen.”

His hands latched onto her thighs immediately, fingertips digging into her skin as she moved her underwear to the side and sank down on his cock. It was an easy slide, made easier by the mix of Tiffany's come coating his shaft and the precum dripping from his flushed tip. Her hand found his throat, thumbs teasing the prominent veins bulging under his skin, and forced his head against the back of the chair. 

Jen's name, at that moment, was the closest thing to a prayer to have ever come out of Trevor's mouth, followed closely by fuck and please. She gripped his shoulder with the hand not currently wrapped around his throat. When she moved in his lap, it was slow and torturous, not quite enough to push Trevor over the edge with the explosive force he'd started to feel with Tiffany. No, this was worse - this was a wave lapping at his skin, teasing him, pushing him closer and closer -

“You can come now, Trevor,” Jen said, permission like music to his ears. “Be a good boy and come on yourself.”

And he does. He bounced Jen up to the tip of his cock and slammed up into her before pulling her soundly off his cock and coming all over the bottom of his shirt. She kept his head pinned to the back of the chair, the edges of his vision starry and fuzzy, forcing him to keep eye contact until his cock softened against his stomach.

From the desk behind them, Tiffany made herself come again, the sound of her moans bubbling up underneath Trevor's. Jen climbed off of Trevor's lap to help Tiffany clean herself up before waving Tiffany out with another kiss. 

Jen sat on the edge of the desk and offered Trevor Tiffany's forgotten underwear to clean himself up. She watched idly as he stuffed the used underwear into his back pocket.

“Not that I'm complaining,” Trevor said, “but what was that?”

“What do you mean, what was that? You got fucked by two women. Don't think that needs an explanation.”

“But why?”

“Why not?”

Trevor, unfortunately, was a lot more perceptive than Jen gave him credit for sometimes. “What happened?”

Jen, wholly unwilling to relive the events of the night prior to her arrival at the Unicorn, climbed down off the desk and smoothed out her dress. “Why don't you call Michael? He'll explain.”

“Maybe I’ll just go pay him a visit,” Trevor replied, zipping up his pants with some finality. “It’s been a while since I said hello anyway.”

[skylarsblue]

Genderbent Slashers Pt.2

(The rest of the close-ups that I couldn't fit in the first one, because there's an image limit.)

✦Link To The First Part✦

✦Bailey Loomis✦ (She/Her)

Ooo, sadistic bitch, let's go. 5'6" and oddly athletic despite the fact she's not really into sports and stuff. Honestly, she's not as strong as she looks, it's mostly genetics in those biceps.

Yes she does have a stick 'n' poke tattoo on her hip. It matches with Su, they were drunk when they did it and it's amazing it's not completely illegible.

✦Suzette "Su" Macher✦ (She/They)

Honestly, she's like long cat. An even 6'0" with awkwardly long limbs. She's got a real quick metabolism so she's super skinny despite eating like a monster. She used to have long hair but it kept getting in the way so she chopped it, it helps considering her and Bailey's recent hobby.

Somehow she's more insane than Stu. Double the energy, which is hard to imagine, honestly. She's all over the damn place. Like a permanent sugar high that has no crash. Also? Super gay.

✦Bonnie "Bo" Sinclair✦ (She/Her)

Smug-ass southern belle. She stands at 5'9.5, and she makes it a point to mention that half-inch. Thanks to heavy lifting and the exercise she does in order to burn off steam, she's got beefy biceps. But, other than that, she's rather soft. Not chubby, but not super slim either. There's some good muscle under that softness though.

Her middle name is Lynn cause she's southern and that's the only fuckin' middle name in the south aside from "Lee". But if you call her Bo-Lynn she's gonna stab you in the neck...well, she would do that anyway, but she'd make it hurt worse.

✦Valentina Sinclair✦ (She/They)

5'9" and a bit slimmer than her twin, but that's because they exercise less. Not to say they're less strong though, she's still got some power in those arms. But her legs are probably more powerful. She dyes her hair darker but the brunette roots don't show much, thankfully.

Shyer than her male counterpart, but she's not a soft uwu baby. Val is still gonna stab ya for her art project. Her face rests in a natural sad, doe-eyed look that somehow expresses even through her mask. But do not be fooled! She's a beast, even outside of murdering people. For example? Avoid even looking at them before they've had their morning coffee.

✦Leslie Sinclair✦ (She/Her)

Definitely stands out compared to her siblings. Leslie's got more of Trudy's hair color than the dark brown from Victor and her eyes are lighter. She stands at an even 5'5", sometimes she thinks she's 5'4" on a bad day. Her hair is a mess but it's oddly soft, despite the fact she only uses basic ass soap. (Also, I love her the most)

A pack rat to be sure. She collects a bunch of stuff. Bones, cicada shells, and jewelry from visitors that her twins don't want. Honestly, she's almost a hoarder, but her home is oddly the most clean. It's healthily cluttered. Hilarious given her messy job that her twins keep a more chaotic house.

✦Billie Lenz✦ (She/It)

Small! Small and tiny so it can easily spider crawl her way into your attic. Hunker in there like a fuckin' raccoon. There's crazy in them eyes, I tell ya. Also, she's intersex. Why? Cause people like that just exist. I don't need a reason. Also, her hair is the worst. It's all over the place and it's tangled with cobwebs, probably has a spider in there honestly.

Her socks were stolen, first off. Second off, she's got a real bad habit of scratching herself when it's feeling panicky. The main places that it attacks are its collarbones, the backs of her hands, and her forearms. She also has a bad habit of biting her lip until it bleeds.

[doomednarrative]

for the act one asks: 1, 2, 4, 9, 17, 18, 19 💖

1. Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision?

My Tav's name is Virl :3 they don't have a last name (yet) but they've also disowned their last name, so they're just Virl to everyone they meet. They're a half high elf storm sorcerer, with a particular affinity for lightning. (They love to joke that they're a walking lightning rod.)

I'm still very new to BG3 and the world of dnd in general so I'm not quite sure where they're from yet. As far as family, their dad died while they were still young and their mom was not very fond of having such a destructive sorcerer for a child when they come from a long line of wizards, so they were, shall we say, kicked the fuck out of their home fairly young, hence disowning the last name ~

They're not a Dark Urge, just a regular kinda dude who can be chaotic when called for :3

2. Was there something about the character creator that just couldn't capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you're comfortable sharing.

For the most part Virl in game looks pretty much how I envision them mentally, tho I do think theyre very freckled Everywhere, not just in the face. The scar on their face also stretches a bit further across their nose over to the other eye and down their neck to their right arm a bit, more webbed looking in intensity (It's from an accident involving their own lightning as a kid, whoops.)

Virl's agender personally, not really feeling a connection to any spectrum or binary. Theyve never done much to change their body but their voice is Way fuckin deep (voice 2 in thei cc iirc,) way more so than anyone ever expects for their androgynous appearance and it's always been like that. They don't know why but they're certainly not complaining about it ~

4. Do you remember in which order you recruited your companions? Which companion introduction would have felt the most familiar / like home to your Tav / Character?

It was Shadowheart > Astarion > Gale > La'zeal > Wyll > Karlach.

Karlach and Gale were definitely the ones that Virl was most immediately drawn to as far as feeling most at ease around. Karlach was desperate to be seen as not being a threat after finally getting out of a shitty situation in the Hells and Gale is a chaotic yet talented spellcaster, and both of those are things Virl can relate to.

9. Do you have a favorite member of the Tiefling Refugees? Is it the same as your Character's?

Me as the player I'm drawn to Zevlor and Dammon, but I can also put a little blame on @timethehobo for that one after seeing their wonderful art of those guys for months on my feed now lol. In Virl's case tho, they love all the kids (even if they did steal shit from them.) Virl's got a soft spot for little shithead children causing chaos and just trying to survive in the world after being one themself, so they're protective of them. (This is what led them to go after Kagha instead of going straight for Halsin too, because her threatening a child was too far for them.)

17. What does your Character think of Withers?

Virl does not know what the hell to make of that skeleton honestly, they're a little wigged out by him and still unsure how trustworthy he is.

18. How did your Character deal with Wyll, Karlach and Mizora?

Virl jumped right between Karlach and Wyll's sword, managing to convince him after their shared visions that Karlach was not the monster he was led to believe. And after seeing how that decision led to Mizora punishing Wyll in such a drastic way, Virl was the first to assure him it didn't change their opinion of him. They definitely despise Mizora tho, seeing as they're already wary of gods and patrons alike on principle, and after that much of a public display she didn't earn herself any favor in Virl's book.

19. Did your Character spend a night with a companion either the night of the party or earlier? Is it someone they have a continued interest in?

Virl went straight for Karlach and everyone called them out on it lmao. Virl took a liking to their firey friend from the moment they met and Karlach felt the same ~ they're hoping it'll become a normal thing given time for them both to grow closer ♡♡

[risingsouls]

//First part my samurai character's profile.

Nick Name: Dragon Lady (she has a birthmark in the shape of a dragon on the right side of her neck which is often mistaken for a tattoo by people)

Birth Name: Kaorus WONG

 Gender androgynous: (Partly male and partly female in physical appearance)

Age: She was 20 years of age when she became an immortal.

Actual age: A thousand.

Eye color: Hazel

Hair color: Auburn

Length: It comes down well past her shoulders. but she keeps it in a bun, with a jade phoenix hairpin.

Attire: Her attire consists of a black hanfu decorated with tiny gold flowers, an red obi belt worn around the waist, and a pair of red arm bands worn on the upper region of her arms.  

 Height:5 foot 9   

 Birthplace: Tokyo Japan.

Year of birth: 12 Century BC

Period: The Heian Period.

Species: Human (Formerly) Immortal (Currently) (she became immortal after drinking The Hourai Elixir, and unfortunately the effects of the elixir are permanent) 

Profession: She is the former Leader of The Red Dragon Clan. (she resigned and let someone else take her place as clan leader)

Status: Highest ranking member of the Qishan Wen Sect. (Wen Mao let her join because of her exceptional martial arts skills)  

Family: Her father (Huo Feng-Deceased) he was a well renown blacksmith, he crafted a variety of different weapons in addition to the dragon sword.

Her mother (Momo Feng-Deceased) she worked in a small tea house close to where they lived, although the pay was low, she enjoyed working there.

Spirit Animal: Phoenix (he is her spiritual protector) 

Preffered Weapons: Her father's dragon blade (he gave it to her as a gift for her tenth birthday) although she personally prefers using traditional crossbows and arrows. (they are more effective than swords)

Skills: She is well known for her martial arts skills and use of spiritual cultivation.

Ability: Regeneration (she can heal from wounds that would normally kill humans)

[Thank you! This is nice to know and somewhat helpful. I don't know if you saw the suggestion, but you could also just make a new blog to circumvent the shadowban, but this is at least a start.

So since you seem to want your OC to fight Vegeta, I'm going to focus on the relevant parts for that.

I'll begin by saying I'm not sure if there's anything else here that supports the idea you seemingly have that your samurai would be able to fight on part with Vegeta. Again, the key (heh) factor here for the DB world is the use of ki. Unless "spiritual cultivation" is meant to be an equivalent for that, it's still going to be a very unbalanced fight. Vegeta isn't one to hold back, especially when she insists on fighting him, but I still don't see her being able to do much.

Again. For the millionth time. This isn't me saying your OC is weak. In fact, as I've said, she probably is incredibly skilled as a fighter and strong when compared to the average DB Earthling for instance. Especially if I concede that, even though you reference real life eras for her that probably don't exist in the DB universe, she's ancient and has been training all THAT time. But we've seen characters like that in DB (like Spike the Devilman who is a literal, likely immortal demon who has probably also honed his skills throughout his life) that could be overpowered by Goku as a KID. Even if these characters continue to train and get better, I'm sure Goku would absolutely wipe the floor with them. Another good example would also be Roshi. He was Goku's master and trained the kid. Nowadays, even with how they portray him in the Tournament of Power suggesting that I guess he's been training still (though the point stands even in Goku's childhood because he was ancient THEN)? The old man doesn't have a prayer.

This is why, despite her immortality and super long lifetime of training, it still won't be enough to do much against Vegeta. The least she can hope for is that he would recognize she can fight and fight well, but that's where it ends. He's still going to see fighting her as a waste of time FOR HIM because she wouldn't offer him a challenge.]

[maladaptive-jcb]

Chapter 2: Strokes of Familiarity

Jamie x female!reader fanfic

(fluff, safe for under 18)

Click here for chapter 1 if you missed it.

Summary: Reader is an independent artist who lives on her own in a small town and meets Jamie, a musician, in an art studio where their budding relationship formed through shared interests of different forms of art.

Warning: There will be talks about trauma and PTSD from domestic abuse and dissociative episodes throughout the story.

“Helloooo? Y/n? I said there’s another stack of books coming,” Adrian, my manager snapping his fingers in front of me.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” I say apologetically.

“What’s up with you today? You’ve been day dreaming a lot.”

There’s not a lot of employees here. It’s just me and a couple younger people who are looking for extra cash. I was Adrian’s first co-worker here and we’re more like family now than just co-workers to be honest. Adrian is older than me so he has more of that big brother energy. His thick reading glasses and brown slick-back hair were the first few things I noticed when I applied for the job.

“I’m sorry, Adrian. I didn’t mean to. Alright, look! I’m focused now!” Smacking my face with both hands in front of him to prove it.

“It’s not just that, you’re a lot… smiley… today. I don’t think I like it. You’re creeping me out,” he looks at me over his now lowered glasses.

“Oh, it's um- It's nothing, okay? I'm going to unload the books now. Now may I please go or are you gonna keep interrogating me?"

He squints his eyes at me. "This is not over, y/n."

Adrian has always been protective of me, especially when he knows the whole reason I moved up here. Telling him about a guy I just talked today is probably not a good idea. Besides, what is there to tell? That I had a coffee with a guy from class? I shouldn't even be all smiley about it yet.

There’s a lot of book donations coming here surprisingly. I clean them up a little before unloading according to their categories. Mystery, fantasy, true crime, science fiction, autobiography, vampires… You get it.

____

I glance at the antique clock sitting on the cashier's counter. It's 5:40 p.m. so it's close to closing time. That also means that he's almost here. I pick up the broom to sweep off some dusty areas while wondering if I even have the time to change my clothes. Although, crazy as it may sound, Jamie being spontaneous also got me all excited. I look around the store and Adrian is already leaving as he lets me close up after him. I finally let a tiny giggle escape my mouth now that I'm no longer within his earshot.

He’s here.

Jamie is five minutes early. Seeing his car pulling up suddenly turns my stomach into a knot. Why am I anxious? It’s just dinner between friends, right?

Before I get to open the car, he stops me and gets out from his seat. “Wait!” He did a little jog towards me and then opens the door for me instead.

“M’lady,” in his teasing tone again.

“My, my. Mr. Gentleman.”

Of course he looks amazing right now. Grey shirt with top half unbuttoned slightly revealing his tattooed chest, paired with a leather jacket that hugs his frames perfectly. His hair swept messily to the side and subtle silver chain on his neck. I step into the car and he carefully closes it before running back to his side and gets in.

“You’re early,” I say.

“And hungry!” he exclaims back. “I know this really good Italian place, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, yes I love Italian!” finally sensing my hunger. Apparently the knots in my stomach has more than one reason to appear.

“Perfetto!” his chef kiss motion follows along with it. “It’s kinda nice to have someone to go out with since I’m new in town. Thanks for joining me tonight,” he smiles gratefully.

“Well I didn’t really have a choice, didn't I?” teasing him about driving off before I could say anything.

“You were gonna say yes anyway though, weren’t you?”

“Well, I-“

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” his tone in playful mocking.

“Wow, really?” I jokingly scoff at him.

He starts the car and drives off to the main highway. I usually walk around town to get from one place to another. I have never gone this far through the highway except that one time Adrian needed me to pick up some new shipments with him. I'm starting to wonder if he's actually about to kidnap me.

“You know… I’ve wanted to talk to you too. In class,” his face focused on the road. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Oh?” My train of thoughts disappear as he spoke.

“It’s just, I feel so out of place there and I’m always struggling. I didn’t know what you would think of me. I mean, you’re very talented. It’s amazing.”

He did a quick glance at me before focusing back on the road. No smile this time. Just a look of serenity… or admiration? I can’t tell. It’s getting dark and the low light is casting subtle shadows that somehow highlight his jawlines even more.

“That’s… Wow. Thank you so much, Jamie.”

He glances at me again. That same look.

I clear my throat.

“But you’ve been improving so much too! I love some of your recent work. I’m very surprised how fast you learned."

A smile curls up his lips. His eyes give a faint glimmer in the shadows. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” I put my hand on his shoulder reassuringly. His fingers stop tapping as I did.

“Will you give me some tips next time we’re in class?”

I can feel myself beaming. “I thought you’d never ask.”

____

Chapter 3

Seems like you have a new budding friendship with Jamie now! Wonder how your dinner with him will go next? 🤔

[j3zelle]

Summary: After reading the diary and learning about this group that knows about Jesse, you and Ellie had to act and get to him as fast as possible. He was alone and vulnerable.

Warnings: cursing, gore description, blood, scorpion mention and nakedness mention

Authors Note: I appreciate the love Benevolence Part 1 & 2 got! Writing means a lot to me & knowing that people read it makes me feel accomplished in some fashion. Enjoy!

Benevolence: Part 3

It was about two hours since you and Ellie left the house that was filled with infected. Two hours since you almost died and she saved your life. You had a feeling that wouldn't be the last time on this trip. You also had a feeling you would be saving hers on multiple occasions, with how reckless she could be.

You two didn't talk for a while, but after a half hour, she began to talk to you about things she cared about, like her journal. How she wrote in it whenever she went on patrol with Jesse or Dina. How she drew anything she found interesting, mostly deer or other animals she saw often.

"That's really nice, Ellie." You told her, the snow slowly thawing beneath your horses feet as you traveled. It was beginning to get warmer as well. You felt like taking off your jacket, but you didn't want to take it off if all the sudden it began to snow again.

"Yeah. Cat got me into it."

"Like, Catherine? Your ex-girlfriend?" You asked, a bit shocked she brought up her ex.

"Yeah. Her art just inspired me I guess." Ellie says with a soft giggle. You smile at her laugh, nodding.

"I get it. She knows her art well. She's a tattoo artist, right? She gave you the one you have on your arm?"

"Yup." Ellie smiles softly, looking down at Shimmer. "She did."

"That was cool of her. I can't imagine how hard it must be to find tattoo supplies now."

"You don't want to know the struggle." She replies. You laugh softly at that, looking back at Ellie. She decided to take her coat off, her roughed up t-shirt revealing her tattoos. And her muscles. You felt your cheeks get hot, so you turned away to avoid embarrassment if she were to see you.

You focused ahead of you, noticing the grass beneath you slowly turn to dirt, as if it had been walked on time and time again. You were close to the radio station, which means you were closer to Jesse. You hoped he was okay when you first went on this mission with Ellie. Now, after reading that diary from that random person, you didn't have a lot of hope.

Before you knew it, you saw the large antenna of the radio station appear in view. It felt like weeks since you two left Jackson, but it was only a day and a half. There was no doubt in your mind that Joel or Dina were worried about the two of you by now and were searching for you.

"Finally." You hear Ellie say, watching her as she looks up to the radio station.

"I have a bad feeling about this Ellie." You tell her, stopping the horse before it could go any further.

"Why?"

"That diary... What if those people are here? What if they are on their way and we have no clue?" You ask her, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

"And what if they aren't? You have to have faith, (Y/N)." She replies, looking at you with a smile. It didn't seem convincing, more like she was trying to convince herself.

"I know Ellie, I know. But, we can't just-"

"Look, we've been through worse than a handful of guys. Hell, yesterday, we almost died." She gets off her horse and holds onto the reins. She then walks over to you, holding the horse as you get off it yourself.

"And if they are here or are coming... God help them." She finishes. She hands you the reins to your horse, nodding to you. You nod back in understanding. There was no doubt Ellie and you were smarter than you gave yourselves credit for, but you couldn't deny the fact you were terrified. Not just for yourself, but for Jesse. For anyone that decides to try and come find you two. Before you got a chance to talk again, you watched Ellie lead her horse to the radio station.

You greeted the warmth as it spread across your body, the inside of the radio station was warmer than you expected it to be. You sighed happily, feeling a sweat coming on. Ellie walks ahead of you, looking at the sign in sheet.

“He was here.” She tells you, looking back at you as she hands you the sheet of paper.

“Do you think it would be smart for us to sign in?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“Nah, we don’t want them to follow us, remember?”

“Yes, but what if we end up in trouble?” You question, but she doesn’t answer you. Instead, she walks the opposite direction.

“Let’s worry about finding Jesse first and if he isn’t here then we can figure out a new plan.” She tells you, and you nod reluctantly.

~~~

For the next half hour, you and Ellie checked out the whole station, your sights up for Jesse or perpetrators. Sadly, there was no sign of either. With no sign of Jesse, you had little hope. And your hunger didn’t help with that feeling.

As you two returned to where you were staying the night, a small break room of some sorts, you looked through your supplies. Two apples, one for each of you, and a can of soup. That’s it. You pulled out the food and placed it on the coffee table, right next to where a comfortable couch was calling your name.

“Ellie. We don’t have a lot of food.” You tell her, looking past the couch. You noticed she was looking through the diary you two found, most likely trying to figure out where they could be or could’ve gone.

“Ellie.”

“Hm?” She turns to you, knocked out of her trance. “What?”

“We need to find more food.”

“We will look for some on the road.” She tells you, grabbing her jacket from the couch.

“I’m serious. We don’t have a lot, only for tonight. We should try and find some here first before we leave. Plus, it’s still winter, it will be very cold. We can’t just go out there. What if there is a snow storm?”

“And what if that group has Jesse? What if they are torturing him for information as we speak?” She asks you.”

“And what if we starve to death before we get to him?” You retort, raising your voice more at her stubbornness. “I know you love Jesse and he’s your friend, he’s mine too. But we can’t just go out there unprepared. Hell, there could be stuff here we could use.”

Ellie gives you an irritated look, shifting her jaw to the side as she turns away from you. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping you weren’t too stern with her. You understood her and her motives. You just wished she would understand she can’t jump into action all the time without being prepared.

“Fine.” She whispers, placing her coat down on the couch. “Just for tonight.”

“That’s all I want.” You tell her. You take one of the apples from the coffee table in your hand, then you walk around the couch, handing it to her. She rubs the apple with her thumb before she bites into it, holding it in her mouth as she nods to the side. Time to search for supplies.

The two of you did find some supplies while you were looking for Jesse, but since you were being more thorough now, finding supplies was easy. You found some more soup and cans of other goods. Your mouth watered, glad to find some more food for the road.

As you two made your way back to the break room, you looked through all the food you found. As you were putting them in specific bags, you heard Ellie gasp.

“Ellie?” You look up to her. She was near a kitchen area, pulling out two small packets with a coffee mug on each.

“Hot. Chocolate.” She whispers to you. You laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“No way.”

“Yes way!” She laughs and walks over to her bag, grabbing a water bottle. “Help me find mugs!”

“What, you want to make some?” You ask, watching her as she looks through the cabinets.

“Uh, yes? Why, you don’t want any?”

“I mean, I do but… With water?”

“C'mon. Don’t be picky now.” Ellie says, You walk over beside her, helping her to find a couple of mugs for the both of you to use. As you rummage, you find one that has a small turtle on it. It says, “Waves don’t bother me” on it. It’s very cute. Ellie finds her own, a white mug with little red hearts all around. She shrugs.

“That mug suits you.” You tell her, bumping her hip happily.

“Please never do that again.” She says playfully, turning away as she walks over to the couch where her bag was. She placed the mug and hot chocolate packets on the table, then she dug through her book bag, pulling out a handmade water heater she created. You remembered how many times you and Jesse had to use it when you both forgot water. Sometimes you guys could be so forgetful. But Ellie was almost always prepared.

Ellie moved the coffee table out of the way, placing the water heater on the ground near the couch. Setting up the water and beginning to heat it up, she sat next to it, her back against the couch.

“Take mine off the heat after a few minutes, I don’t want it too hot.” You tell her. She nods. You walk over with your mug, holding it in your hands as you slowly sit down next to her, on the other side of the water that is heating up.

You laid your head back on the couch, sighing tiredly. You felt calm for once since you left Jackson. You began to feel the rest of your body become sore, especially your arms from holding onto the reins of your horse all day.

“Slowed down a lot.” Ellie says.

“Hm? The water?” You asked, confused.

“The time.” She replies, smiling softly. “Hasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

Ellie shrugs, rubbing her tattooed arm. “Since Jesse went missing… Time has just been going by too fast. I feel like every second that goes by, there’s ten minutes of distance between us and him. You know?”

“Yeah, I can see that.” You answer, sitting up. You shrug softly, pulling your legs up to your chest as you look to her. “I feel like we’ve gone nowhere. Feel like we did nothing. Just almost get killed.”

“Almost is an understatement. I feel like I’ve died so many times since I was born, I’ve lost count.” Ellie says.

“That’s an odd thing to say.”

“I’m an odd girl.”

“That’s true.”

Ellie giggles. You giggle as well. For a moment, the cold was nonexistent.  You looked at Ellie, her half-up and half-down look accentuated her face perfectly.  Rough but also gentle, searching in a sense. It was her style. You wouldn’t deny it, you loved her little bun too.

You watched her pick up the water, pouring some into your mug, then into her own. The water was hot enough that the mug warmed up your hands. You hoped it didn’t break by accident, since it probably hasn’t been used in a long time.

“Thank you.”

“De nada.”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Joel taught me a bit.” She answers, but she says nothing more. The urge to ask another question about Joel laid on your tongue, but you knew it probably wasn’t the best time. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

You opened the hot chocolate packet she gave you, putting it in the water and stirring it around with a spoon Ellie found in a drawer. Just the thought of drinking it makes your mouth water and stomach warm up.

As you both sat and enjoyed your hot chocolate, you said nothing. A silence hung over the both of you, but it was a comfortable silence. A silence you wouldn’t mind sharing again and again with her.

You heard Ellie giggle softly as you took a sip from your cup.

“Hm?” You look over to her, a small smile spreading across her face. 

“You remember that one time Jesse and Joel found a ton of food on their run, at that old motel… We all had a party that night. God, how old were we?”

You thought for a moment, nodding your head. “Must’ve been two years ago now. Seventeen.” You answer.

“Jesse was excited because they had a bunch of cans filled with beans, he was excited to have chili. Dina was talking about how she was glad they found enough food for the kids.” It was perfect.

“I remember I was excited to have sausages…” You answer, and Ellie laughs.

“They were so good. Too bad we couldn’t have those again.”

“Who cooked them? Steve? Shaun?”

“Stephen.” Ellie answers for you, her smile beginning to fade.

“Oh, yeah.”

“He died in that group run, right?”

“Killed by a bloater.”

You winced at the thought. You were a bit glad you couldn’t remember his face, you didn’t want to envision it pulled about by one of those things. You sipped your hot chocolate again, wishing it were something stronger so you didn’t feel sad right now. 

“That day I was thinking about asking out my crush.” Ellie says. Your eyes widen. She continues to speak. “They made my art a lot better. They are beautiful and kind. That day just made it so much better because they're smile, even though I saw it often, it was bigger that day. I drew it that day.”

“Really?” You blush softly, looking down into your drink out of embarrassment. “Who?”

Ellie doesn't answer. She places her mug down on the table, grabbing her bag and pulling out her diary. She hands it to you, scooting closer to you so you can grab it easier.

You hold the hot chocolate between your legs, opening the diary slowly. You see pictures of deer, birds and squirrels all through the pages. They were intricate and almost perfect. Little black scribbles were everywhere, even some dust from the erasure. As you flipped the pages back, the pictures became smaller, less detailed. 

You finally found the one that you wanted to see. The one she wanted to show you. It must've been the most detailed picture you had ever seen. Shading in all the best places, eyelashes were perfect, the hair type was drawn to the point that you thought if you touched it, you'd feel it between your fingers. 

It was you. 

“Ellie.” You rub your finger over the paper, looking back to her with a wide smile.

“You like it?”

“I don’t feel self conscious anymore, that's for sure.” You joke, giggling softly. She giggles with you. 

“That's good.” She rubs the back of her neck, shrugging. “Was that too straightforward?”

“I-It was perfect!” You answer, shaking your head. “Why? Were you worried?”

"A bit." She smiles wide, her teeth showing now. "Glad I tried though."

You bite your lip, sandwiching it between your canines before you spoke. You were too nervous, you didn't know what to say. You didn't notice until now, your heart was beating fast in your chest, and your knuckles were turning white as you gripped onto the mug.

Ellie liked you.

You motion to the book, asking for permission to continue looking through the girl's personal diary. She nods, leaning over you slightly, like she wants to see your reaction to some of the stuff in there.

As you turn the pages, you notice some loose pages. And more pictures of animals were in there. "You are so good at drawing, Ellie."

"Thanks. You should let me draw you sometime." She tells you, holding her hand out for the book. You close it, handing it back to her. She grabs it, but you don't let go.

"Draw me? Doing what?"

"Nothing in particular." She answered, shrugging. You notice a small smirk on her face, and you can't help but slap her on the thigh with her diary lightly.

"What?"

"You're disgusting."

"What?!"

"You know what." You reply, laughing softly. She takes her diary back, putting it in her bag.

"You would look good. You've seen my drawings." She tells you, resting her arm on her leg.

"Yes, and it's all beautiful Ellie, but-"

"What, no one has drawn you naked before?"

"No! It's not on my bucket list either."

"I think you're just scared to try something new." She says, shrugging as if she found the answer so easily.

"I'm scared of a lot of things, that's not one of them."

"Yeah? What else are you scared of?" She asks, leaning in close to you, as if she's daring you to share.

"Well, the infected..." You answer.

Ellie doesn't reply, she just nods in understanding. It was a bit obvious, you freezing up yesterday as you almost died was pretty easy to see.

"I hate scorpions." Ellie mentions, laying her left hand on your thigh. Her hand was warm and comforting. "They're creepy."

"What about spiders?"

"Ew, I find them all the time in my garage."

"Ew." You shudder softly. Her hand was driving you crazy.

"What else?" She asks.

"I was afraid of the horses for a while." You tell her, smiling softly. "It was a bit weird, to be honest. I thought they would throw me off."

"They won't if you know how to ride them right."

"And I learned."

"You did. Because I taught you."

"And I'm forever grateful."

"I hope so." She whispers, leaning closer into your face. You looked deep into her emerald eyes, biting your lip. Ellie notices, giggling softly.

"What, you're scared to kiss me too?" She asks, her hand moving from your leg to your waist, pulling you closer against her.

"Not really." You tell her. Suddenly, the force between the two of you breaks. You press your lips into hers. There was a faint silence between the two of you for a moment. You kissed before, but this was different. Her arm around you made you feel protected, loved. You didn't want to let her go.

You move your arms around her neck, holding onto her tightly. Your body turned as she continued to kiss you, your lips constantly crashing into one another like waves on a beach.

"Careful." Ellie whispers, barely breaking the kiss. You gasp softly, watching as she removes the mug of hot chocolate from between your legs. You giggle softly, looking back into her eyes.

"That would've been a mess."

"Would've been a shame if you messed up all your clothes." She whispered, kissing you once more. You giggle into the kiss, cupping her jaw as you two hold onto each other. Finally, you sat on her lap, wrapping your legs around her.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you never envisioned yourself like this. In Ellie's arms, kissing her. It felt unreal. And to know she was there the whole time. She had a crush on you for years and just now had the courage to mention it. You were too lucky to have someone like her to share a kiss this amazing with.

Your kiss was broken apart by the sudden sounds of gunshots. You and Ellie quickly separated from each other. You stood on your feet, a little wobble in your legs. Ellie helped you steady yourself, grabbing your hand tightly.

"Stay safe." She tells you quietly, squeezing your hand tightly.

"Always."

[mackmontgomery]

Full Name: Mack Montgomery.

Nicknames: Mack Attack, Mackyew.

Pronouns and Gender: He/Him, Cis Male.

Age + Birthday: 27 + November 28th.

Birth place: Albany, New York.

How long have they been in town?: 5 years.

Sexuality: Bisexual.

Housing: Ocean Crest Apartments.

Occupation: Tattoo Artist @ Crescent Moon Tattoo.

Family: Trevor Montgomery (Brother), Macaulay Montgomery (Sister). // @aurorabayaesthetic

QUICK OVERVIEW.

Firstborn of the Montgomery trio, Mack’s parents had high expectations for Mack – all of which he seemed to make a personal goal to fall just short of. At two years old, his younger brother Trevor arrived, who from the very beginning was more adept at pleasing their parents. If Mack was eternal chaos, Trevor was eternal chill. Their sister Macaulay fell somewhere in the middle.

Where he faltered academically he excelled in other areas, namely art and music. Ever since Mack could steadily hold a pencil, he’s been sketching. It took years for him to actually consider himself good, but once he did he knew that as far as a future career was concerned, his would have to centre on that or he would have no chance of holding it down. That hypothesis was proved by the string of minimum wage jobs he had as a teenager that he was unable to keep for longer than six months. 

His first tattoo was a stick and poke he gave himself at 14 and ever since then it’s been a spiral of adding designs to his body that range from intrinsic pieces of body art to downright absurd additions that he only got because some form of alcohol was involved. 

It was also around this age that he picked up bass more seriously, rather than just a passing amusement. Once his high school friends decided to join a band, he threw his all into trying to be good enough to play along with them. It fast became an equally good outlet for his abundance of energy.

When he turned 18, his parents made it clear that if he wanted to continue staying under their roof he would be expected to go to college – something he had no intention of doing. He couch surfed for a year or so before eventually moving into a shared place with friends. As much as he adored New York, by twenty he was restless and wanted to seek out new scenery and a new coast. He eventually landed in Aurora Bay just shy of twenty-one where he once again found himself having to figure out a living situation.

It during his couch surfing days during his initial move to Aurora Bay that he was able to convince the owner Crescent Moon Tattoo to take him on as an apprentice after becoming a frequent flyer at the place, which became the first job he excelled at. After two years he became a fully fledged tattoo artist at 23 and there’s no one around who’s happier to have to go to work. 

PERSONALITY.

+ generous, warm, open-minded

- lazy, extreme, gullible

BONUS ROUND.

bisexual king.

6'5, has been mistaken for an actual sasquatch and became a local reddit urban legend.

is pretty much covered in tattoos from the neck down, (similar placements to pete davidson’s actual tattoos but the designs are different) has very rarely been able to think of a fun tattoo idea that he doesn’t end up getting. 

refuses to tattoo his face or his neck, adamantly says thats his own prerogative but in reality it’s because he knows his mother would hate it more than she already hates the ones he has. 

doesn’t have a driver’s license, thinks it’s redundant (because he drives anyway rip, he just hates the dmv!!!)

pretty much always in search of inspiration for tattoo ideas for himself, it’s almost compulsive. 

has tagged a few buildings around town 🤫

adament that cardi b’s ‘park that big mack truck right in this little garage’ lyric is about him after inking her.

has never actually met cardi b.

oui’d enthusiast, is pretty much always good for green if you’re looking.

will try any drug once (unless it’s injected)

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

older brother of @macaulaymontgomery

buddy bud of @thegillyxliang

one half of a whole dumbass with @rhyswilson

formerly in a band with @callme-harris / @rinaxcicero (not in game but still canon) / @gcldrushed

past / sometimes current hook up of @lorelailewis

ex-boyfriend of @cricketcampbell

close friend of @aidenxstevens

fan of @vanessagable / submergence

friend of @kyleexanthony

friend of @wesxevans

acquaintance of @maura-cortes

co-worker of @nirawuu

close friend of / she's his personal hairdresser @fxckaubreycarson

super fan of @bradley-banner

art friends / will always rock with @cassidyxcooke

employee of @aeris-flores

looks up to @annthcmpscn

childhood friend of @shilohsharma

fwb of @helenasoarcs

friend of / redeemer of his fuckass hair colour / court jester of @chelsabel

SPECIFIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

tattoo / piercing clients: if your muse has any/wants any in the future, mack’s your mans.

people he’s let tattoo him: yes he is that ridiculous, even if it turns out to be the ugliest design of all time, if it’s done with good intentions chances are that he’s going to like it.

childhood friends: new yawk baby!

GENERIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

connections wise he’s pretty much an open book right now, but some baseline ideas that can be springboarded off are:

friendly.

co-workers / former co-workers from his teen job hopper days / ride or dies / childhood friends / pseudo-siblings / friends / drunk friends / new friends / people who let him couch surf as a teen / people he’s encountered through his job somehow.

romantic

flirtationship / friends with benefits / one time hook ups / tinder matches / unrequited crush (can be either way) / exes from high school / exes from his twenties / exes on good terms.

antagonistic.

enemies / former (best) friends / former friends / exes on bad terms / frenemies / rivals / negative influence. 

[hestiashand]

come get y’alls gays

[ ID: two digital drawings of characters standing. in the first drawing are two characters charlie and jobie. charlie is a white woman with wavy shoulder length dark orange hair, the side shaved short. charlie has many tattoos including a face and neck tattoo and gold jewelry and piercings. she is wearing a crop top, poodle skirt with frills underneath, fishnets and knee platform boots. they are coloured with the lesbian pride colours. instead of a stitched poodle on her skirt there are interlocking female stick figures. she is wearing beaded earrings that say 'slut' and is smoking a cigarette. next to her is jobie, an inuk woman smiling wide with crooked teeth, a unibrow, freckles and long black straight hair. she is wearing an unbuttoned pink crop top sweater, underneath a purple crop top, and a long skirt with a swirling flower design in the bisexual pride colours. she has on light blue converse with rainbow beads on the laces. she has beaded heart earrings in the bi pride colours and a beaded necklace in the same colours with a antler cap in the center and a silver bisexuality symbol. jobie is missing her ring finger on her right hand. both their nails are painted with their respective flags.

the second drawing has carlito and ramon. carlito is a fat afro-indigenous man smiling. he is standing with his hands in his pockets. he has curly hair that just passes his shoulders and a small mustache. he wears a tuque, an unbuttoned sweater with a mlm gay man pride patch on the sleeve, a hoodie with the words 'more trans bodies in art' printed on it, sweat pants and running shoes. his outfit is coloured in the trans pride colours. his socks are coloured with the gay man pride flag. carlito has many freckles and moles, and a small gold hoop earring. next to him is ramon, a smiling filipino man significantly shorter than carlito. he has many moles on his face and has a small mustache and chin hair. he wears a short sleeve turtle neck with the rainbow pride colours on it. he's wearing tight pink pants that flare out around his ankles and is wearing turquoise dress shoes. his nails are also coloured turquoise. ramon wears a pearl necklace, and two gold gay pride necklaces. END ID. ]

[evintide]

02. hair, 11. teeth, 28. back, & 29. hips ! 👀

close up headcanons » ★ !!

HAIR

Midna’s hair is a point of pride for her, though this was not always the case. as a young teen she had a bit of a rebellious phase* ( read; she still does, but does so in other ways now ) and cut her hair very short as a means of further objecting against the quiet image her caretakers had tried to instill upon her. she was only inspired to let her hair grow out after her fathers taught her about how it could be manipulated with twili magic, and since then she has kept it long to utilize this ability. her skills in doing so were actually pretty mild in comparison to what she was initially capable, and it was only through being cursed as an imp that she was able to further master this art. given how much shorter it has become since returning to her natural form, the versatility with which she was able to use it while transformed has been set back to a less proficient state, but she aims to let it grow out further now that she’s had a taste of its utilities. currently it falls a bit below her shoulder blades when loose, but it appears shorter given how she typically has half of it clasped in front and the rest done up while wearing her robes.

it’s vibrant orange hue is common for that of many of the twili and it always has yellow tips no matter what length she keeps it at. as Midna grows older it will take on further shifts in color, though rather than getting lighter it will grow darker with shades of purple-ish pinks near the roots. the most prehensile parts will always have choppier ends than the rest of her hair, and is more easily controlled when gathered near the end of a clasp or tie of some sort. it is naturally thick which also aids in helping it keep whatever shape she so desires to mold it into; most often that of a hand.

she enjoys treating herself to nicely scented shampoos and making sure it is well maintained even when not stylized. it’s rare that she lets anyone touch or help her brush her hair as well, so if you’re offered, consider yourself lucky!

TEETH

Midna’s canines are sharper than most, though the left is slightly larger than its twin. she was embarrassed by this as a child, but has grown accustomed to any teasing now, and will gladly ( verbally ) bite back at any who dare to try and mock it. this difference is harder to notice on a casual glance, but at her more gleeful moments the left fang has a habit of peeking out against her lower lip. her lower canines also have some prominence, but not to the same effect as the upper two. the rest of her teeth are well cared for and properly aligned.

BACK

the twili's back is nothing too worthy of note. her natural curves appear softer when viewed from behind, though her shoulder blades have a notable protrusion even while relaxed. admittedly seeing her without any form of raiment covering her is odd nowadays given her station, but Midna is a creature of habit, and will forgo her traditional cape in favor of comfort of movement should she so desire.

currently the expanse from her neck to her buttocks is clear of any tattoos. she has yet to decide which achievement will first mark her skin there, as she figures the space is more... private now, given how much it is required of her to keep traditional cloth worn. she has been known to have issues with back pain given her proclivity to sleep in unconventional places and poses.

HIPS

Midna is naturally pear shaped, which will only grow more prominent as she grows older. her figure while as an imp exemplified this. while not as noticeable from far away, she has a fair amount of stretch marks that wrap around her pelvic bone to her lower back, and will peek out from beneath whatever band or cloth she may be wearing at the time. such markings are of no concern to her, and any who say otherwise will only receive a sneering eyeroll. if she chooses to walk verses floating, Midna has a natural sway in her gait that is exaggerated thanks to the width of her hips.

most twili members don’t typically feel a need to wear traditional clothing, and Midna shares this sentiment, though as a high ranking official it is often required of her to wear something more flashy to maintain appearances. her most comfortable form of clothing is the cloth she wears around her hips, an article most commonly worn by others and often denotes which household the twili is from. she has several types of accessories that the cloth can be attached or folded over, some of her favorites including metal bits that dangle against the exposed side.