#I have a soft spot for men that clearly like women that are a little weird

[brunhielda]

🤝

I want to know his military career because he wrote the Hobbit.

Nerdy book guy that is laughed at by gruffer men of the earth? How is that not his first experiences being thrown into a unit? I’m not saying the entire story is a self insert, but there is definitely some writing based on experience happening there.

So who the HELL did he base Thorin on?

The man (dwarf) is written with such respect for gravitas. The dwarves look at Bilbo as a soft, bookish little dude until he proves himself, but THORIN, who clearly is also well educated, they implicitly trust to see them through and get them home. He is there, in the thick of it, with everyone else, yet Thorin is always and forever KINGLY. Just because of how he holds himself.

And honestly, yeah. He also writes Aragorn, and Faramir. Who were Tolkien’s commanders? Because the RESPECT-!

Just in general, his portrayal of brothers in arms mentality. We talk about how Tolkien is a wonderful example of non-toxic masculinity- who did he serve with? I want their stories.

Also- mentioned above, his respect for women. One story that stuck with me was “The Children in Hurin,��� at a point in which the main character calls out a Lady of a house for not openly opposing the occupying force, and she looks him in the eye and says “Boy, you know NOTHING.” She has been quietly feeding and caring for all the people on her lands, helping travelers when she could on the down low, and because he showed up and made a mess, he has just wrecked the whole operation, and now they all have to flee. The RESPECT Tolkien had for a woman doing her best for her people, doing what she could to keep people alive and hopeful, even when it wasn’t the most open form of resistance, stunned me.

Did he end up in a tight spot where a wise woman kept everyone fed and safe until it was time to march out and fight again? War movies always leave out the women who were inevitably there, near or on the battle fields, taking care of people. Who did he meet?

Rash actions are not heroic to Tolkien. Thoughtful measures that kept the most people alive were.

How many times did he have to witness a foolish attempt at a push out of the trenches? How many clever schemes kept them alive another day? How many of those schemes were his? How many were someone else’s- how many of those schemes made it into his writing?

Like- Tolkien was imaginative, and had deep roots in folklore he was pulling from as well. I’m not expecting some one to one correlation to his military experiences.

I’m just saying we have explored the folklore. I’d like to know what else he was drawing from.

It's a cliché to say that Tolkien's experiences in WWI affected all aspects of his writing, how he wrote about friendship and grief, how he wrote about desolate blasted landscapes. But I wish someone who knows more about Tolkien's military career could help me understand how Tolkien related to retreats. His description of Faramir keeping his people together on the retreat from Osgiliath is one of the best-written sequences in the trilogy, and hardly anyone remembers it. It's about a desperate retreat, and a leader whose presence, whose strength manages to keep it from turning into a rout. There's something very vivid in the descriptions: don't break formation, don't start running or they'll pick you off one by one, keep together, keep moving, hold all of that fear at bay. Tolkien describes that retreat as genuinely heroic, a superhuman act of will, one that exhausts Faramir almost to death, and Denethor still does not accept it as heroic because it's a retreat. It saved men but it lost territory, therefore in his eyes it's a failure.

Tolkien has strong opinions about heroic retreats, in the Silmarillion he sometimes gives the retreat-through-the-dangerous-wilderness plotline to female characters (Emeldir, Idril), he always writes them with respect. Sometimes, getting out of there and keeping most of your people alive is a great act of valour. I feel like he must have had a personal experience about what it means to retreat, and what it means to hold a retreat together, and what it means to get no thanks for it.

[armor-eater]

I’m finally caught up and bro. All the fandom has been going on and on about how horrible Shuro is but like. He’s not bad at all ???

I honestly like him! He’s awkward in his own way and so repressed that it’s insane. I usually hate any of the men whose whole thing is ‘I’m hopelessly in love with a woman who doesn’t seem to really know I exist’ but Shuro seems so sincere about it. He truly likes Falin, and respects her a lot! He’s just so repressed that he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s doing the same thing Laois was doing- making assumptions about how close they were and not realizing that their two cultures had differences in what’s appropriate. 

Yes, I don’t think he truly knows Falin and only thinks he loves her (well, he does love her but it’s more of he loves the idea of her) but I also don’t think he hates Laois as much as it seems. Laois just annoys the piss out of him. The real reason they fought was because Shuro was worried about Falin- a worry that is incredibly well founded!

Idk, there’s plenty of things to be annoyed about with him but I think the fandoms being a little rough on him.

[randomsuggesteduseername]

—RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW

❝ MASTERLIST ❞

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

wc: 4.7k

best friends to lovers, making out, slight smut,

prompts: “Kiss me to prove we’re not in love”

Your mouth might’ve ran faster than your brain could process it. At least that’s how it feels when you watch the blush spread over Steve’s cheeks, paired with a frown meant to help keep his composure. “You want me to kiss you?” His voice wavers slightly, checking in to see that his own brain didn’t produce that thought out of thin air. It’s been long since Steve’s felt this nervous and unsure of himself around you, usually he’s all flirty smiles and cheeky words, yet now he’s been reduced to a deafening silence.

“Yes, kiss me so we can prove once and for all that nothing is going on between us.” Arms crossed over your chest after placing the bowl of caramel popcorn down. The most indignant look on your face as you stare at him expectantly from your side of the couch. The blue-ish hue the tv casts onto Steve’s side profile highlights the way his eyes stay wide when the words slip out of your mouth. “We are not Harry and Sally.” You argue with a crooked brow which seems to earn an amused huff from him.

This all started when he brought a new tape home, the hottest release of the year ‘When Harry met Sally…’ At first glance, nothing but a simple rom-com, little did you know it would put you and your best friend in a position you’ve never thought you’d ever end up.

Steve’s been adamant about the movie the whole night, calling it a heartwarming love story, while you, thinking clearly, stood your ground and told him that it ruined the vision of friendship between men and women. Of course he didn’t get it, his love-deprived brain worked in ways you’ll never understand.

“Admit it…” His eyes swiped over your face quickly as his head leaned back against the couch and to the side to face you. That grin of his couldn’t be more cocky. “You’ve thought about me like that at least once.” Almost stating it rather than asking, you shove a foot into his hip, thanks to your laying down position along the length of the couch which kept him in your reach as he occupied the place left on the couch next to your feet. The ‘humf’ sound he makes instinctively at your shove has you rolling your eyes and looking back at the TV screen.

“Kill me if I ever do.” You deadpan, the look on your face is nothing less than serious. His accusation is absurd, how can he think that you’ve ever viewed him as anything other than your best friend? His hands raise in faux defeat with a slightly amused look on his face, his gaze pulling away from you, at least momentarily until you open your mouth to speak again. “You don’t believe me, do you? Oh my god, Harrington, you’re so arrogant!” Huffing, you get up from the couch, padding over the soft, fluffy carpet the Harringtons recently bought for their living room.

Despite the coffee table topped to the brim with snacks and drinks you feel the need for a glass of water instead of a sugary and fizzy beverage. “It’s not a good look on you at all.” You let him know as you tuck some hair behind your ear, pouring yourself a glass of water, hearing his voice ring out from the living room. “So you think I have good looks, huh?”

You’d roll your eyes again at him if you could, but something tells you you’ll end up with a headache if you keep doing that. Taking the glass back with you, you claim your spot onto the couch, this time your legs curling up next to you. The movie long forgotten as it keeps playing on the TV, now only serving illumination purposes, you’re stuck on the disagreement tonight’s movie started.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You huff. He thinks it’s cute, he loves riling you up from time to time. “You’re crazy if you think I could ever be with you…” The words come out slightly harsher than intended, but he doesn’t seem to take it personal, only faking a gasp, his hand pressing over his heart to try to trick you into feeling guilty. You don’t, not even a little. “Oh honey, how can you be so mean to me?” He almost whines, pouty lips on display, his eyes almost glazing over with the puppy look he’s mastered at this point.

You know this is just ordinary messing around, he’s always poking and prodding you with his words, but something about his suggestion has shifted something inside you. Maybe it’s the thought that he thinks you’re in love with him which…quite frankly, is insane…right? Maybe it’s the way his rhetorics make you want to slap that grin off his face…or maybe, just maybe, instead of slapping you’d like to try a kiss first.

Instead of staring at his stupid brown eyes, you decide to busy yourself with the bowl of caramel popcorn, picking a handful. The taste melts on your tongue which brings you some sort of serenity for a few moments.

The idea which sparks into your head is not appropriate, far from it. What has got you thinking about kissing him again you think you’ll never know, but maybe that’s just the answer. A simple kiss to prove that whatever assumptions he has about your feelings are completely and utterly absurd.

So, you can blame him for pushing it, or you can blame yourself for being so stubborn about proving him wrong. Either way, it brings you back to his shocked face, the words already uttered and too late to be taken back without implying some sort of fear that his suggestion might be true after all. The long and awkward silence almost makes you jab him with a few teasing words, but the way he seems to be a bit shellshocked for the better part of a minute has you keeping it to yourself.

“Kiss you? As in, for real?” You smile, amused by his tone as you nod, the thought brings some butterflies into your stomach but you just assume it’s nerves from having to kiss your best friend. “I’m serious— right here, right now. To get that stupid idea out of your head.” You explain as if it’s the sanest and most logical explanation for this. “It’ll prove we’re not capable of being attracted to one another and that nothing will ever happen between us.”

Steve, after seemingly coming out of his momentarily catatonic state, has already masked his shocked expression and covered it up with that smile you know so well. Shifting to face you on the couch, one leg underneath himself, he seems to be contemplating this before he runs a hand through his hair. “Makes sense.” That’s the conclusion he seems to arrive at as he scoots closer to you on the couch.

The room is still mostly covered by darkness, which makes it harder to see his facial expressions and how his eyes dip to your lips briefly, as if already setting his target on them. His arm is laid over the back of the couch, coming to a stop in front of you once his knee bumps your ankles, making you change your position as you cross your legs and face him too. It doesn’t feel as intimate as the moments before a first kiss should feel, but once again, he’s your best friend…nothing more.

“Wait…” His voice comes out laced with concern, brows pulling together slightly. “Are you sure you won’t fall in love?” Steve asks and you can’t help but let out the breath you’ve been holding up until now, your hand smacking his bicep still settled on the back of the couch. “Oh I'll be fine, not so sure about you though.” Now it’s his time to roll his eyes though you notice the way his lips curl up and his bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a brief moment.

“Alright, Casanova, could you just get to it?” He nods and adjusts his position, not really sure how he needs to approach this. The hand settled in his lap skirts up over your arm, ultimately finding its place on your chin. The way he holds it so gingerly between his thumb and index makes you feel that there’s this sort of nervousness in him just the way it’s in you too. But this is just a kiss to prove him wrong, nothing else.

His eyes find yours and then he’s leaning in, waiting for your reaction, waiting to be shoved away or chided for actually trying to kiss you, but the closer he gets it dawns on him that you want— no, need this to prove him wrong. It bothers him slightly to know you’ll go as far as kissing him to prove that you’re not in love with him and never will be, but he can’t help the sudden thought which pops into his mind, uninvited.

Pulling back slightly to put some distance between your faces again, your eyes narrow curiously, a tinge of annoyance on your features too. “This won’t make it awkward between us, right?” His question makes you sigh, wondering if this whole thing is really a good idea or if it’s just going to make things worse. The last thing you need is to lose your best friend over some stupid rom-com.

“No, Steve, it won’t change anything between us because it doesn’t mean anything.” You assure him, finding it in you to be understanding of his worries. He nods, accepting that it’ll be done and you’ll never speak of it again.

He’s getting into position again, more shuffling and scruffing over the couch as you find a way to rest your legs against one another comfortably. Steve’s hand lifts to your chin again, keeping hold of it softly as he takes one last look at you, starting his approach again. You don’t feel the nerves anymore, truthfully you don’t feel anything, further proving your point that you don’t have any feelings towards him.

You let your eyes fall shut, expecting his kiss as you breach your hand on his knee, not feeling his breath hitch the slightest bit at your touch. It’s so brief that you almost miss it. A chaste peck which only meets your lips for a second. Your eyes open once his hand pulls away and clears his throat, not saying anything.

You should be happy that you felt absolutely nothing during the kiss, yet it still leaves you with a sort of empty, unsatisfied feeling in your chest. You dare to look at him again, a few beats passing before you notice the soft blush dusting his cheeks, though it might as well be the light from the TV.

“See? Nothing.” You press your hands to your thighs, subtly drying them against the material of your sweats as he seemingly agrees with you. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you gaze forwards before your mouth opens again. “You know, that wasn’t really a kiss. Like, a proper kiss.” You twitch your nose as you don’t dare look at him.

“Mhm, yeah…” His bottom lip is stuck between his teeth, the plush flesh catching your interest as it falls freely back into its place. “You’re totally right, we should probably try again.” The thinking process seems to be logical, as if the possibility of looking for another excuse to kiss each other is not even on the table right now. Just two friends making sure they’re not in love, right?

“Okay then, kiss me like you’d kiss Becky, Tina or Amy. Just pretend I’m one of them.” The words make him dizzy. How can he pretend to kiss you like you’re just some girl he wants to spend his night with? You’re so much more than that, though at the same time less. Your connection is too strong to one another, and as if reading his mind, you speak again. “Maybe not like that. But just kiss me like a girl you’re in love with.” His huff comes out with just the right amount of humour.

“I can do that…I think.” His tongue comes out to wet his lips, the way he’s looking at you feels a bit more intimate now. “Get to it then.” You try to joke as you take a deeper breath, his body already close to yours, making it easier for him to reach out.

The way his skin feels on yours when he cups the side of your face should be the first indicator that this kiss is going to be much different from the first. As if reading your thoughts, his thumb swipes over your cheekbone almost tenderly, eyes falling shut in time with one another, you’re left with the darkness of your eyelids, focusing solely on your other senses.

The musky smell of Steve’s slept in clothes and lingering wafts of toothpaste on his breath, the warm encompassing feeling of his palm on your cheek and the low hum of unintelligible voices since the movie is still playing. The tip of his sharp nose is now tracing over the contour of yours, whereas the first time it was merely just a clumsy bump. You refrain a shudder successfully and you let him go on, carrying a sort of curiosity about what King Steve does to these girls to have them in a chokehold.

And then it happens again, that chaste press of lips on lips, though you keep still and lightly press yourself closer. Just as fast as it comes it goes again, making you furrow your brows. “I th—“ The words get swallowed by him as Steve leans in again, more purposeful, carrying more intent.

Something trashes wildly in your stomach, dare you say butterflies as he parts his lips slightly, coaxing you into a slower open mouthed kiss. You don’t mind, letting him take the lead, following his pace, you’re pleasantly surprised when his tongue tries to enter the mix. You welcome it with your own, brushing wetly over one another while his lips seal over yours.

Without realising, you let your hands come up, one hooking against the back of his neck while the other pushes greedily into his hair. You’re not sure how long it goes on for, though you surely get lost in the way he’s treating you like you mean something more to him. The way his hands touch you, stroking your cheek and holding your hip, the position is still somewhat awkward and stiff, having to meet in the middle, but you don’t mind it that much.

Clearly he does, having to pull you closer, making you slip into his lap to get more comfortable. Settling on his thighs, your knees dig into the leather of his couch while his head tilts back to reach you better. You’re sure your lips will soon turn numb from his ministrations in which you both seem to get lost, clearly forgetting the whole reason you got into the argument in the first place.

Feeling him up, your hands drift over his shoulders and down to his chest, giving the briefest squeeze on it which has him taking a deeper breath in, making you smile against his lips. You’ve fallen into a rhythm, getting accustomed to one another, but everything freezes in place when you hear him.

Confusion etched into your features, your brows twitch together momentarily. “Did you…moan?” The question seems absurd since you’ve heard it clear as day, you couldn’t have missed the way it made your insides clench, your eyes searching his face as you watch the tips of his ears and his cheeks flush a deep red. “Well we’ve been shoving our tongues down each other’s throats, sorry for getting distracted.” He defends, trying to sound as if it’s your fault, looking away to hide the embarrassed look on his face.

Gazing down at him, you take a breath and shift, unintentionally brushing over his lap, his hands tighten on your hips if it’s any indicator to the torment he’s going through. Your lips out of reach, unsure if you’ll even kiss him again after his slip up, your body nothing but a teasing, heating pressure which would be embarrassing to let affect him. But oh how can he keep it together when you’re set on ruining him?

He thinks you know what you’re doing, not when you stare down at him for a brief moment, giving him the idea that you do want him, not when you shift over his lap, and not even when you breach your hands on his shoulders and push him to lay back again, but when your lips press against his for a third time which has his mind rebooting, trying to keep up with the pace you’re setting.

The idea that this was supposed to be just a kiss is now forgotten, the only thing that seems to matter now is kissing his best friend like she’s a girl he’s in love with. Surprisingly, he doesn’t even find it that hard to do, though he doesn’t have the faintest idea as to why.

You can’t help but grab hold of his locks again, so silky and soft through your fingers, giving them the slightest tug experimentally. This time when Steve feels it, he doesn’t moan, not even grunt, what he does though is shamelessly grind up against you. You’d stop the kiss to ask him if he’s hard, but it all feels so good, the way he’s encompassing you in his arms, how he shifts the slightest bit down towards your jaw, in search of sensitive skin. Nails digging lightly into the back of his neck, you gasp when his mouth leaves yours properly and latches onto your neck, lost in the bliss of it all, you grind down again which is enough to make Steve lose his mind.

“Fuck, don’t do that,” His breath sounds strained. “can’t take it—“ His murmur is a rumble against your skin, your whole body warming up at the idea that your best friend can’t contain himself after a simple kiss. Your thighs try to squeeze together at the sound of his voice, instead, squeezing his hips.

Heart drumming, you feel his lips finish up the work on your skin and it doesn’t hit you that it’ll leave a mark, you’re too preoccupied with the way his hands help you grind over his lap to notice. There’s a fire growing between both of you, low and slow, simmering dangerously close.

There’s sudden silence, the tape has no doubt ended, leaving you in a way too intimate silence, only filled by the grunts and gasps shared between you. You know it’s wrong, you shouldn’t be letting a simple kiss get the better of you but Steve doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, letting his needs guide him into stealing another greedy kiss.

Getting light headed, unsure if from his passionate kiss or the lack of oxygen, you’re forced to part, a thin string of spit splitting between the two of you as you look at one another, realising just how wrecked and ravished you both look.

His strands are sticking up at odd angles, his lips flushed a deeper red from all the kissing, just enough to match his cheeks. The collar of his shirt is stretched out a bit, showing a part of his collarbone from where you’d fisted his shirt. The way he’s looking up at you makes it seem like he’s begging for more, his body certainly is with the way he’s still pressing between your thighs, feeling that he’s fighting to contain himself for the sake of the dignity he has left.

Forcing down the lump in your throat with a harsh swallow, you force yourself to move off of him, sliding next to him onto the couch. Settling your hands in your lap, you toy with your fingers, gazing up at the ceiling as he does the same, waiting in silence until your breathing slows down and your mind is a bit more clear.

“You’re a nice kisser,” You mumble the compliment. Calling it nice would be a gross understatement but that’s all you can manage at the moment. Two, Three beats pass before he conjures up a response. “Thanks, you too…nice,”

“Great, um…I guess we proved my point.” Only now remembering what got you in this mess in the first place, you blink and look for your glass of water before you take a sip, the room temperature liquid feeling cold as you drink.

Stubborn.

That’s exactly what you are. It’s been three days since you and Steve broke the dam and started a metaphorical flood of thoughts and feelings. You haven’t seen him since, not that you’re looking forward to the awkward silence and new weird dynamic. Some part of you wishes you’d just accepted the defeat without having to prove anything, while the other can’t help but think back to that kiss, maybe the best one of your life.

It’s on Saturday night that Robin calls and invites you over for a movie night. Just the mere thought of it has your blood warming up, but you can’t let him keep you away from your shared friend group. You’ll just have to…ignore him.

Easier said than done.

You rode with Eddie, he never has a problem with picking you up, but he does give you a strange look when you hop in his van as if to say ‘Where’s Harrington?’ Since the two of you always come together, wherever you go, he’s there and vice versa.

With a hammering heart, you let yourself in as you always do and greet Robin with a smile, subtly looking over her shoulder as she speaks, trying to see if he’s already here. Snapping back to the conversation, you follow her to the couch as she rambles off about whatever tape she ‘borrowed’ from Family Video, though it always ends up thrown somewhere in her room, gathering dust.

Settling in the middle of the couch, You watch as Robin takes a seat next to you, telling Eddie to prepare the tape and bring the bowls of snacks over. Finally settling into the familiar energy, you laugh, entertaining Robin’s absurd thoughts and jokes, but soon enough it’s interrupted as the door opens and closes again, Eddie’s still occupying his usual armchair so it can’t by anyone else than him…

Clammy hands drying on your thighs, you look back as his voice comes out, greeting the three of you as he apologises for being late. You know him, and you’d be inclined to say that you do it best, but looking at him right now, you can’t seem to be able to read him anymore. All you can see is those big hands that grabbed and squeezed at you, those walnut strands which you tugged at, pulling the prettiest of sounds from him, and those eyes…oh how you’re lost in them until Robin boops the tip of your nose, flushing in embarrassment as you pretend they didn’t catch you staring with heart eyes at your best friend.

“Okay, come on, let's watch this already.” You huff, as if you’re impatient to see the movie, but in reality, you’re only thinking about the lights being dimmed so the blush on your cheeks won’t be on full display anymore. You’re cursed with having to squeeze into Robin’s two person couch with her and Steve, each of them pressing closely into your sides, Steve’s arm laying over the back of the couch.

The movie isn’t great, not even close to what Robin’s promised it to be. Proof of that is Eddie drooling on himself as he sleeps peacefully in the armchair, and Robin’s head pressing against your shoulder as she rests with soft snores coming out of her. You wonder how you’re still awake yourself, but the heat radiating off Steve’s body is enough to keep you alert for almost an hour.

“Should we turn this off?” He asks as he gazes at the screen with a sort of bored confusion on his face. You nod and watch him as he gets up, using the opportunity to let Robin lay comfortably on the couch as you slip away from the living room and find yourself walking away, moving towards the bathroom but before you can lock yourself there, you hear his voice.

“Can we talk?” His question seems to slip out like he doesn’t want to go through the conversation either, but it’s eating him up, having to keep his distance from you. Telling yourself it’ll be okay, you turn on your heel and nod, heading to Robin’s room as he follows closely.

Once the door is closed, leaving the two of you alone, you dare to lift your gaze, swallowing thickly while he seems to be looking for the right words. “Did I make things awkward between us? You know, like after we uh— made out?”

“No…no, it’s just, It’s fine…really.” You rush to assure him, he doesn’t believe it one bit, your voice wavers as he steps closer and tilts his head with a concerned furrow in his brows. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like that, you can barely look at me and you haven’t called to spend the night in like………forever.” He argues, knowing you always have sleepovers, especially now in the summer.

“Steve, it’s been four days…” You smile lightly as you correct him, seemingly overestimating for how long you’ve been apart, though for him it surely feels like a drawn out eternity meant to make him suffer in your absence. “Exactly!” He huffs as if you can’t seem to understand just how much he’s missed you.

He’s got you, it’s a curse that he knows you this well. Maybe you can’t lie your way out of this, not when he’s watching you like a hawk, trying to find the source of the problem as always. He hates to see you upset, even more so when he knows it might be his fault.

“C’mon, when did you stop telling me what’s bothering you?” The way his tone seems to be a bit hurt makes you look at him, now he’s much closer, his hand reaching for yours as he tugs you gently towards him. You’re not sure you can say anything that will justify your actions, so you don’t. Gazing down at the way his hand swallows yours up completely, your chest swarms with butterflies as he toys with your fingers gently. Want takes over your mind, clouding your judgement as you gaze up at him, opening your mouth to speak.

Knowing no words will ever compare to what you want to do, you push yourself up on your tiptoes and grab hold of his shoulder, leaning in to connect your lips again just like you did three nights ago. Despite the sudden movement, he doesn’t seem to be too shocked, quick with returning the kiss as his hands settle instinctively on your waist to make sure you stay close.

Giving his shoulder a squeeze, you cup the side of his face with your free hand and lean more into him. Letting him walk you back until you bump into the wall, you sigh into the kiss and pull his head down to reach him better. A fuzzy feeling takes over your brain as you let yourself enjoy the moment, feeling Steve’s wandering hands advance, you cling to him for support and arch, saying his name in a soft whisper.

Letting your hands slide up under his shirt, fingers tracing soft skin, gripping at his strong back as Steve occupies himself with pawing at your thighs and waist.

Your bodies pressing and tangling warmly, finally feeling the freedom to touch him like you’ve always known you wanted deep in your heart, humming softly as he lets a relaxed sigh slip from his lips. Minutes pass before a sudden thump, followed by a grumpy Robin cursing, travels through her small apartment.

You break apart with a groan and bite your lip, gazing at him as he seems to resent the interruption too. “We should get back out there before they realise we’re missing.” He knows you’re right, but the way you look like you hate the idea, carrying that soft pout on your lips which has his heart melting makes him dip his head to catch your lips in another kiss, this time softer. “Mhm, in a minute.”

And how can you turn him down when he’s so adamant about kissing you?

[http-shield]

Bucky is high-key appalled by the lack of chivalry and politeness exhibited by the men of the twenty first century. Can't fathom that men ignore women on the train or bus who need seats, that doors aren't being opened for women, seats aren't being pulled out, space isn't made for women as they pass packs of men on the sidewalk. There are many things in this new age world that Bucky can't wrap his head around, but the disregard for women is something he'll never understand, so he opens doors for ladies if they are both going in the same building, vacates seats when there is a woman around in need of space. He can't help it, having grown up in a world entirely different to the one he is now. It is second nature and comes as quickly as breathing, but it stuns you a little the first time you get treated like that. You swoon at the fact Bucky holds the door for you, lets you pass before him, makes sure you walk on the safer side of the pavement, holds your hand when you cross the road, makes sure you get the food and drinks first, offers to drive and pay for date nights, the list is endless. Still, for once in your adult dating life, you don't question the sincerity of his words as they are backed up by actions.

"Did something happen to men while I was gone?" Bucky's confused voice floats down the hall of your apartment as he strides in, kicking his shoes off and placing them neatly on the rack by the bathroom door.

"What do you mean?" You look up from your spot on the couch, laptop sitting on your raised legs. "Like, did they go extinct and come back?"

Bucky reaches the living room and shucks off his jacket and gloves to hang over the chair before coming to the couch and plopping beside you. A soft kiss is pressed to your cheek, stubble grazing your skin as he mumbles a greeting before settling into the plush sofa.

"I mean, did they lose all manners?" he shakes his head in disbelief, hands splaying out in frustrated emphasis. "Do men not open doors for women? Or move out of the way for them on the side walk?"

You close the laptop and stow it away on the small shelf of the coffee table, no longer focusing on the information packets Tony had sent you early this morning.

"What happened?" You ask, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, enjoying how he melts into your touch.

"I just watched a bucnh'a men in suits practically push a woman out of the way to get through the door." he sighs, clearly exasperated at the lack of respect for other humans. "And then they didn't even hold the door for her! They just let it swing closed. How do they act on dates? I doubt they pay."

You hum, letting his rant continue.

"And I was on the line."

"Online." you correct gently, spiking his hair up with your fingers, the shorter strands finally obeying you.

"I was online," he rectifies. "and I saw this video of a woman talking about a man getting angry that she wasn't gonna go home with him after the first date."

"Please tell me that never happened to you." His attention shifts to you now, genuine distress simmering in his blue eyes, and when you don't answer, he becomes distraught.

"Doll, no," Bucky shakes his head as if you confessed to the murder of his beloved stuffed animal. "Come on, you gotta be joking."

"It was years ago! I was young and stupid and didn't know my worth." You shrug, obviously not as upset as your counterpart. “I've learnt my lesson. I know I am worth at least two dinners now." The joke falls flat as Bucky stares, not amused.

"It's a joke, Buck."

"I know, but I don't like it." He grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child. "Don't like that you were treated like that."

"Well, good thing I've got you now, huh?" you abandon his hair, stroking the back of your fingers over his stubbly cheek.

Bucky pouts. "Still don't like it. You deserved better."

You kiss his cheek, feeling his cheeks round as he smiles. "You're too good to me, Mr. Barnes." another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Even if we did sleep together on the first date."

"Hey! That wasn't the same. We knew each other before that." Bucky protests as you stand from the couch, walking to the kitchen to start on dinner. "At least I paid!"

[dorabellingham]

I'm all yours.

warnings: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when your husband becomes jealous of you during a real madrid party.

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The event was in full swing, with twinkling lights and soft background music creating a sophisticated atmosphere. Jude Bellingham, in a perfectly tailored suit, looked like the center of attention as always. But, that night, what really caught attention was not his imposing presence, but that of his wife, who looked absolutely stunning in a long black dress. You shined more than anyone else in the room, and that was starting to irritate Jude more than he thought possible, but not because you were attracting attention, never, he loved seeing his wife shine, but he hated strangers devouring you with their eyes.

As soon as you arrived, you were bombarded with compliments from all sides, men and women who could barely contain their admiration. Jude, always very protective and with a quiet sense of ownership, was beginning to lose his patience. With each new compliment you received, his smile became a little more requested, his jaw clenched as his hand remained firmly on your waist.

You couldn't walk two meters without someone stopping you to tell you how beautiful you looked. A group of teammates, who always maintained a friendly attitude, now seemed to go overboard with their jokes. One of them even commented:

—Man, you're so lucky. Your wife is amazing. You really outdid yourself.

The comment wasn't exactly mean, but the joking tone got to him. Bellingham squeezed your waist lightly and gave his friend a cold look.

—Yes, I know that.

He responded dryly, without humor, and continued walking with you, who laughed softly at his reaction.

When you finally arrived at a slightly calmer area, another group, this time of businessmen who worked with the club, approached. One of them, particularly insistent, looked directly at you, ignoring your husband completely.

—You are absolutely stunning, Y/n. I bet it attracts attention wherever it goes.

The man said, smiling exaggeratedly, while you tried to be polite and just thanked him. Jude, arms crossed at your side, let out an audible sigh, his gaze turning into a mixture of boredom and irritation. He took a step forward, positioning himself so that the man would have to acknowledge his presence.

—She attracts attention, yes. But guess what? She's here with me too, so you better tune in!

He said, his tone dry and full of jealousy. The man got nervous and walked away with some excuse, but that didn't ease the tension that was growing inside Jude. You, always perceptive, saw his mood and were excited about the situation.

—Babe, relax. It's just an event, no one is trying anything. You know I'm yours.

But your calmness seemed to make Jude even more irritated by the constant attention. When you were chatting with some more formal guests, another man, clearly enchanted by your beauty, arrived and made a bold compliment about how you looked like a "movie star". Jude interrupted a conversation on the spot.

—What did you say?

He asked, interrupting a conversation, his gaze sharp as a blade. The businesswoman was a little disconcerted, but tried to hide it.

—I was just saying that your wife has a... a special sparkle.

Jude let out a short, ironic laugh.

—Yes, I know that. She is special. So, you'd better keep the compliments a little more... discreet.

The tension in the air was evident, and the woman, slightly uncomfortable, hurriedly said goodbye. You, who was watching everything, crossed your arms and looked at your husband with an expression of someone who was having fun.

—You are impossible today. There will be no one left at the event, Bellingham.

You commented jokingly.

He shrugged, still frowning.

—They need to understand that there is no chance.

You laughed, holding his hand and stroking his fingers with yours.

—Nobody here has it, Babe. You know that. But it hasn't been improved yet.

You walked around the room together again, and whenever a longer look fell on you, he visibly tensed. People noticed the atmosphere and, little by little, they became more restrained when approaching her. Still, Jude kept his guard up throughout the event.

When he finally reached his car, after a long night of compliments and prying eyes, Bellingham let out a heavy sigh as he climbed into the passenger seat.

—I don't like it when people look at you like that. Like, you were ogling you and I wasn't there.

You, who was already more used to his protective posture, radiated and leaned towards him.

—You were there, yes. And me too. With you, always with you. And no one here can change that.

Jude looked at you, finally relaxing.

—I know... But it's hard not to be jealous when you're so... perfect.

You smile, kissing him softly on the lips.

—And I'm all yours. I didn't forget that.

[theemporium]

Daniel knew it was wrong. 

In a small town, there were certain rules you always followed. You never talked bad about anyone or anything to someone you didn’t trust unless you wanted it to get back to them. You never went against the social hierarchy, especially if you were new in town. And you never—never—messed with the sheriff or his family. 

It was small town etiquette and everyone knew that.

And Daniel knew that too. He did. He really, really did—especially when he had so much to lose. 

He was well-respected and well-liked in the community. The older men knew him as strong and reliable, the older women knew him to be a sweet talker with an overwhelming amount of charm. Neighbours knew him to be someone to lean on, bartenders knew him to be a good time when he walked through the doors.

Everyone knew Daniel Ricciardo and everyone loved him.

But even he couldn’t get away with something like this if he was caught—which was exactly why he had driven a little out of town, a little further than anyone would ever dare to come out, a little further than you felt safe with.

And yet, any possible concern or fear you had washed away when you were with him. When you were lying in the tailgate of his truck, feeling his hands spreading your thighs so he could kneel between them as the scruff of his beard brushed against your skin.

“Danny,” you sighed helplessly as his fingers teased the hem of your dress. A dress that was far too short for you to be wearing around town, but perfect for your late night rendezvous with him. “It's getting late. My father—”

“Your daddy ain’t gonna know a single thing, sweetheart,” he murmured between soft, open-mouthed kisses traced down the column of your neck. “And I’m clearly not doing my job right if you’re thinkin’ about him.” 

“I just—” You cut yourself off, a small whimper escaping your lips as his teeth scraped against a sensitive spot at the base of your neck. “Oh shit.”

“Dirty mouth you got, darlin’,” Daniel mused as he pulled back, enjoying the sight of your flushed cheeks and wide eyes. “Such a pretty little thing to be saying stuff like that.” 

“If you say it’s because of who my father is—” You started, your brows furrowed together but Daniel’s laugh cut you off. 

“M’only teasing,” he assured you, his hand rubbing up and down your bare thigh until you shivered beneath his touch. “You cold?”

“A little,” you admitted shyly, the cardigan you had slipped on before you snuck out the house doing little to battle the late evening chill.

Daniel’s eyes glimmered. “Want me to warm you up, princess?” 

And you knew exactly what he meant. You knew the underlying question in his words. You knew exactly what his intentions were as his hand slid further up the skirt of your dress until his fingers brushed the fabric of your cotton panties. You knew by the smirk on his lips and the glint in his eyes exactly what he meant. 

And it took less than a second before the panic set in.

“Wait!”

Daniel paused, completely frozen on top of you as he looked down with an expression mixed between concern and worry. His other hand quickly cupped your cheek, his eyes wandering over your body like he would find some physical distress that would explain your outburst. 

“Are you okay? Is somethin’ wrong?” He questioned, his lips turned downwards when you didn’t answer straight away. “Sweetheart, say somethin’. You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve never done it before!” You blurted out as you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

His frown deepened. “Done what before?”

“Don’t make me say it,” you whispered with a sheepish expression. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about, baby,” Daniel said, his expression completely genuine until you saw a smile cracking through his facade.

“Danny,” you whined, lifting your hands to cover your face but he was quick to stop you.

“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart,” he cooed, almost a little condescending when he grinned down at you. “We don’t have to do anything, honey. I just wanna spend time with you, we don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” you breathed out, completely cutting him off. “I want to. I just…”

“You want to?”

You nodded.

“And you’re sure?”

You nodded again.

“Need to hear your words, sweetheart.”

“I want this, Danny,” you said, your voice a little breathy and quiet but he heard it all the same. You placed one of your hands over his, slowly guiding it further up your skirt until his palm was cupping your clothed pussy. “Everybody is always so scared, too scared to touch me. I want you to touch me, Danny.”

His eyes darkened. “Yeah?”

You nodded for a third time, your lips parting with a soft sigh when his thumb pressed against your clit. “I want you to make me feel good.”

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Daniel groaned before he leaned down to press his lips against yours. “You gonna listen? You gonna be a good girl f’me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel smiled against your lips, wide and undeniable. And despite all your whining and moaning and bucking into his palm, he didn’t rush. For someone so loud and fast-paced and adrenaline seeking, Daniel was soft and slow when he touched you. 

He kept his ministers on your swollen clit, firmly pressed circles until the fabric of your panties were soaked with your own arousal. And even when he pulled your dress over your head and quickly undressed himself too, he still seemed to have the patience of a saint as the head of his cock swiped through your soaked slit.

“Danny, please!” You whined, your heels pressing into the back of his thighs in an attempt to urge him. 

But he lightly tsked, giving you a look that quickly shut you up. “Gotta be patient or you’re getting nothin’, darlin’.”

You pressed your lips together, biting back the whimper you wanted to let out. 

But you didn’t have to wait much longer until he was sliding in deep, the stretch of his cock prompting a choked out moan to leave your lips as he continued to coo and praise you until his hips were pressed against yours. His fingers were brushing away your stray tears, his lips pressing soft kisses all over your face as you clung onto him.

“Doin’ so good f’me,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the edge of your lips. “Fuck, you feel like heaven, sweetheart. Don’t think I can ever leave you alone now.”

“Don’t leave,” you sobbed, your legs winding around his waist to keep him close. 

“Never, cowgirl, never,” he assured you between soft kisses. “I said I was gonna make you feel good, and I’m gonna make sure of that for as long as you want me around. Now lemme see that pretty face, baby. I wanna see how good my girl looks when I make her come on my cock.”

.

[peaxhygirl]

𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾 𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙰𝚂 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 - 𝚅𝙸𝙲𝙴 (4)

: ̗̀➛𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲

: ̗̀➛𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: [WARNING] There is smut present in this chapter.

: ̗̀➛𝙰𝙽: This is also long, maybe longer than part 3-- I may have over indulged. Hope it doesn't suck!!

Raven laid in her bed doing a mental recap of the night. How had they gone from fighting like cats and dogs, to not speaking, to her being on the verge of begging him to fuck her on the spot just to relieve that dull throb he'd stirred up.

Every thought she had of the night made her feel like she was right there on that dance floor all over again. She could still feel the scruff of his beard tickling her cheek, and it reignited the goosebumps on her skin. She'd been constantly going back and forth about what would drive him to do such a thing. Constantly trying to explain away his actions so she could get some peace of mind and go to bed.

She was coming up with nothing. "You know what, I'm just gonna go ask him." She spoke to herself before rising from her bed. She took one step forward before puasing to look at herself in the mirror. "Girl, no the fuck you not."

The soft knock on the door of his bedroom caused Armando to sigh in annoyance. "If it's Dorn, it's too late to talk about techy shit. If it's Marcus, I don't want to hear about something you weren't even going to tell me, man." His words were met with a brief silence before the door began to creek open.

He didn't move from his position, laid on his back with both hands behind his head. He was relaxed, which was a very rare occasion, so he wasn't going to break that. He simply turned his head to not see either of the men, but to his surprise Raven slowly stepped in.

Even in the shadows and moonlight that seeped through the window, her face was still gorgeous. He eyed her briefly. Noting that she only wore a large t-shirt that read "Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House." Whatever the fuck that meant. "Come in, blackbird." He rasped.

His eyes were trained on her, this wasn't the same woman. She was more timid than usual, softly closing the door and coming to sit on the edge of the bed near him. "Why do you keep calling me blackbird?" Her face softly contorting in confusing. "Because your name is Raven, genius." He smirked.

Raven stared at him for a moment, how was he so casual with everything that'd happened tonight. She had a million questions, and she couldn't think of a single one to start with. "I--I'm sorry for calling you a drug dealer. That wasn't a nice thing to say to someone who's trying to turn their life around." Not only was her demeanor different but so was her voice, it was soft, almost as if she was scared to break the silence of the night.

A warming balm spread across the male's heart. In his life he hadn't gotten many apologies, even when he was clearly wronged. So, hearing this from the same women who threatened to pull her gun out on him just a few days ago was surprising yet appreciated.

Raven on the other hand couldn't deny that this was a beautiful man. That Lowery DNA was something special. She studied each of his features thoroughly in the darkness of the room. Those thick and defined eyebrows accented by dark curly lashes always caught her attention. She hadn't realized how hard she was staring until Armando cleared his throat, ripping her from her trance. "I appreciate that, but tell me, little one. Did you just come here to apologize?"

With that simple question her throat grew dry and her face hot. Why did she come here? What was this going to accomplish? She'd spent ten minutes arguing with herself about this and not once had this crossed her mind. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, what the fuck was she supposed to say?

Armando sat up from his position, his bare muscular chest visible to her doe eyes. "Nah, I know that look. You're looking a little needy right now, baby." His hand gently gripped her chin while he observed her face.

She was practically spewing pheromones all over this room. "Just say the word and I can fix that for you. Cause God knows I've been fantasizing about these lips since we left that club." He spoke to her in the sultriest tone she'd ever herd. His rough thumb pad pressing into her lip and pulling it away from her teeth. His body was now on autopilot as he moved closer to her. Closing the gap between them. Thier lips inches apart, close enough to just gently brush together as his spoke. "Can I take care of you?"

The woman had no audible response, only leaning forward to fully close the space between their lips.

The kiss between these two was much like their dynamics. Feverish, rough, passionate, and yearning for more. Armando wasted no time stripping Raven of her clothes, delighted to see that she wore noting under her shirt.

The dress she wore that night had done no justice compared to the masterpiece of her bare body. "Just relax, baby." His voice was muffled while he kissed along her inner thigh. His eyes darted from her anxious face to the beautiful pink junction between her legs. Just looking at her he could see her juices coating glistening folds.

He licked over his lips before offering her the same release. His tongue traveling up her center. The soft moan that filled the space when he'd brushed against her swollen bud was music to him, it was a sound he'd commit to memory for the rest of his life.

And Raven, poor Raven had lost all of her bravado. Hell, Armando was sucking it out of her- literally. He licked and sucked along her pussy, teasing her when he'd rotate his tongue just around her clit but not fully attaching his mouth to it, not giving her the suction she'd kill for. "Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." "Armando." She was breathless, doing her best to get out her words as her chest heaved. "P-please."

"Please what?" He questioned with a sinisterly teasing tone. "You want more?" His words were followed behind him plunging two of his thick fingers into her. Immediately, her warm walls squeezed him as his pumped his hand. "Oh god." She cried, moving her hips to meet his motions. Finally, Raven took the moment to gaze down at the male who was already staring at her in hunger. "That's right baby, be a good girl and ride my fucking fingers." A shiver ran down her spine at his words, he was going to drive her insane. "Armando, make me cum." Finally gaining some of her wits back, Raven reached down, locking her fingers into his dark hair pulling him back into her center.

Her assertion of her own dominance in this moment caused Armando's rock-hard length to ache even more as happily obliged. Diving back between her legs. This time, his lips finally wrapped her throbbing bud, sucking roughly and swirling his tongue. His fingers continued their assault on her sopping hole. Curving upwards slightly to gently press into the spongy space of her g-spot. She wouldn't last long with this combination and they both knew it.

Her hips writhing against him, pushing herself farther on to his face. "F-fuck Armando. I'm about to c-" She hadn't even been able to finish her statement before her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. He felt her contracting around his fingers, her clit throbbing against his tongue as he continued to lap her at juices until this wave of ecstasy subsided. It'd honestly knocked the sound out of her.

Seconds felt like hours to Raven. The pleasure that shot through her body was something no other man had made her feel. She basically had to pry Armando's mouth from her sensitive core feeling breathless, but he only smirked in pride at the whimpering bundle of nerves he'd just turned her into.

Raven sat up on her elbows, still breathing heavily as she glanced down at his exposed erection. She couldn't help but be mesmerized as he stroked himself. He was beautiful, long, thick, and veiny. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes to meet a lustful stare before turning over to all fours. She positioned herself in an arch that left her head flush to the mattress and her pussy and ass propped in the air exposed to him. "Well." She smiled innocently. "Show me what 'cha got."

That was all he needed to hear from her. He wasted no time positioning himself behind the ass that was as beautiful as he thought it would be. He stared down between the two. Watching as he drug the thick pink tip of his length through those slick folds he'd certainly be tasting again. He took a moment to apply the slightest pressure to her entrance before sinking into her.

She fit around him like a glove, squeezing and engulfing him in warmth and wetness. For Raven, he stretched her walls so deliciously she almost started to drool.

Both of them moaning in unison.

Slower strokes started their passionate session, Armando knew he wasn't small by any means and wanted her to comfortably adjust before things truly got started.

The wet sticky sounds of him slowly working into her were pornographic. With growing speed, he felt her grow better. His hands gripped her hips, thumbs digging into her soft skin as the slapping sounds of their bodies colliding together grew louder. "Joder." he growled, his head tilting back with slightly parted lips and closed eyes.

Raven couldn't believe how wet she'd grown; her arousal coated the inside of her thighs and even created a wet spot on the bed below them. Her body was rocked by Armando's powerful thrusts, damn her being sore tomorrow. She'd enjoy whatever he had to offer now. She allowed herself to come up a bit, moving her hips back to now meet his thrusts. "Throw that shit back, mami. Let me see what you can do." A challenge mirroring her own was all she needed. Immediately Raven began to throw her weight back into him, her ass bouncing off was a sight he'd be storing in his memory bank for a lonely night. Their mixed calls of pleasure and obesities filled the room along with the occasional smack of the ass he gave her.

Eventually. they ended up in a position where Armando was kneeling behind the woman who was practically seated into his lap as she bounced. Armando's large hand tangled itself in Raven's hair, yanking her head back to look at him. The sight of her flushed cheeks and a slight sheen of sweat present on her skin drove him crazy. And fuck did she fit him snugly like she was made for him. Not releasing her, he began animalistic thrusts that caused her to bellow out. "Shit.' She cursed. "Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás."

His own voice was laced with the need to release. Something they both felt coming once he began to throb inside of her. "Fuck, are you about to cum? Please cum in me, I wanna feel it. Please. I wanna feel you." Her begging cut the last remaining shred of control he had. His thrusts becoming sloppy, short, and shallow as he worked towards his own orgasm. One hand stayed tangled in her hair while the other squeezed at her double D breast and pinched at her hardened nipples. As soon as Armando felt the tensing of his abdominal muscles, he also felt the release as he shot his warm load into her. Raven experienced her own secondary orgasm, their bodies already in sync. Her fingers had been working at her clit, but they both knew it was him coating her walls that threw her over the edge.

Heavy breathing filled the room, neither one of them daring to pull away from the other. Armando placed a kiss on the woman's head. Her hair already starting to curl back up. It took a moment, but eventually Armando managed to pull himself and Raven from the bed. Cleaning them both because he'd honestly worn her out. Her attempt to return to her own room was met by Armando following behind her, stating that she might as well put that bonnet on and get comfortable, because he'd be sleeping with her for the night.

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

"Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." - You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, baby.

"Joder." - Fuck

"Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás." - Quiet down, little one. You'll wake the others.

[onesidedradiostatic]

I can't work out if Alastor genuinely considered Vox a friend or thought of him more as like. A cute pet that dotes on its owner and does little tricks. And then he shows off his cute little pet to Rosie and Mimzy. I don't think he ever viewed Vox as a threat to him in any way, but it makes me wonder about Vox's whole smooth, smart, scary and competent side we initially see in episode 2. Was that something he picked up from Alastor, or was it something Vox already had that might have sparked Alastor's interest? Did he actually mentor Vox in any way or did he just think it was fun to watch him try to build a tiny version of Alastor's empire.

we don't have a whole lot to go off of right now, especially when it comes to alastor's side, but personally I find it more interesting if alastor did genuinely consider vox a friend. even if in his own alastor fashion, there were probably certain walls he never let down. I think it's interesting in that, we know alastor has more of a soft spot for women, so in this pre-husk era, vox could've easily been one of his first few male friends. which kinda makes it sadder it didn't work out. it's like it just proved to alastor "right this is why I don't trust men".

things we know rn are:

alastor calls vox "old pal" at the end of episode 2

alastor allowed vox to take a picture with him at some point

alastor, who is perfectly capable of killing overlords, has not killed vox

also seen this pointed out before, but in the initial commercial alastor filmed in episode 1, although shitty, he did do some actual editing

I wouldn't expect alastor to already have knowledge of how to do this beforehand on his own, question is: did he learn it himself? or did he learn it...

...from someone else in the past?

not to mention he seems to just instinctively already know how to set up shit for filming near the end of the episode. he must have gotten some experience from somewhere.

I think this post describes what they could've learnt from each other in the past best

I like to think alastor saw him as more than just some cute pet, at least back then. it adds more depth to their relationship. obviously there's stuff like the toxic homoerotic stalker-like obsession I feel is one-sided on vox's part (points to my url), but that doesn't mean I think alastor's side of their general relationship is completely non-existent. them having a genuine past friendship that affected both of them in different ways is what adds layers to their relationship I think. they were clearly both affected by their falling out in that they both developed irrational hatred of the other's medium as a result. and honestly? really need to see more of alastor's side of this, I think it'd be really interesting. even though, he hates vox now, and I don't believe he wants him back as a friend, is there any sort of sentiment left from their past friendship? is there a reason why he hasn't killed him? or was the time he almost beat vox an attempt at that? (though I like to believe it wasn't)

obviously, all we can do now is speculate based on the evidence we have in season 1, but for me personally, I like to think they were legitimately friends at some point.

[vintageshanny]

Show and Tell

Content: This is a smutty/fluffy one-shot inspired by pictures of Elvis crouched down on stage next to fans. 😉 18+

As Elvis started the opening notes of “Love Me Tender,” Debra jumped up as if on cue and rushed toward the stage, possibly elbowing a few other women out of the way. She was determined not to miss out like last night.

Elvis was making his way down the front of the stage, stopping every couple seconds to lean down and give out kisses. Right as she squeezed herself through the crowd to the edge of the stage, he looked right at her and made eye contact. He crouched down in front of her, his legs spread open while he rested his arms on them. Debra found herself face to face with the inseam of his pants. Each stitch seemed strained, struggling to contain his broad thighs and his…. Debra forced her gaze upward from his crotch to see that his stormy blue eyes were twinkling, and a knowing smirk had spread across his face.

“What’s on your mind, honey?” Elvis teased, noting the way her emerald green halter top draped over her chest.

Debra bit down on her lower lip, her nerves almost getting the better of her. This is the only chance you get. She forced her mouth to form the words. “I just want to show you how special and loved you are.” She let her eyes wander over his body again and back up to his face.

Elvis blushed and chuckled, responding right into the microphone. “I’ll tell ya honey, we might have ta save that for after the show. W-would ya settle for a kiss right now?”

Debra grinned and nodded, leaning forward over the edge of the stage as Elvis got down on one knee and dipped his head toward her. She reached up and rested her hand gently on his thigh as their lips touched. He tasted so soft and sweet. His lips parted ever so slightly as he pulled back, his warm breath mixing with hers. He grabbed her hand from his thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

“Ya tryin’ ta get me riled up in front of all these people?” This time he moved the microphone away from his mouth, giving her a wink before he stood and moved along down the line of women, each hoping for her own private moment with him.

Debra ignored the dirty looks some women were giving her as she returned to her seat. She felt like she was on cloud nine - she had gotten a kiss, touched his body, and - best of all - made him laugh!

I guess I can die happy… Debra settled back into her seat and watched Elvis quietly conferring with someone toward the back of the stage before starting the next song. This is what heaven feels like…

As Debra floated out of the showroom, her body still buzzing with the excitement of the evening, she spotted two men in sunglasses whispering and gesturing toward her.

“I’m tellin’ ya that’s her,” one of them grumbled, advancing toward her. “Hey honey, would ya like ta meet Elvis?”

“Oh, um,” Debra stammered, wincing a little bit at being called “honey” by this strange man and wondering if she should trust that he worked for Elvis. A vision of herself being led into a dark alley flashed through her mind before she noticed he was wearing a very expensive-looking pendant with Elvis’ TCB logo.

“We’ll just tell him you’re not interested,” the shorter of the two men declared, clearly growing impatient with her indecision.

“No, no, I’ll go.” It’s an adventure at least, right? Debra thought to herself, hoping for the best.

“Good.” Joe turned abruptly, indicating for her to follow. He knew his ass would be handed to him if he came back without this girl. Elvis rarely zeroed in on a specific girl in the crowd, but when he wanted something, he really wanted it. “No party, just the girl in the green shirt,” he’d instructed.

Debra followed the men into the elevator and up to the top floor. She wondered if this is how call girls felt - being led into a world you didn’t belong in. They walked down a plushly carpeted hallway and stopped in front of an unmarked door. The taller, heavier man did a little tapping rhythm and waited for a response, which was so faint Debra couldn’t make any words out. The men seemed to understand though and opened the door, closing it behind her as she nervously stumbled alone into a blast of air conditioning.

Elvis was sitting alone on a couch in the middle of the room, still wearing his sweaty jumpsuit, his head tilted back against the pillows. Debra anxiously straightened her navy blue miniskirt and made sure her halter top wasn’t revealing anything that shouldn’t be revealed. Then she walked quietly toward the couch, unsure if Elvis even realized she was in the room with him.

Debra sat down gingerly next to him and cleared her throat. “Um, you wanted to see me?” she whispered hoarsely, her voice seeming to vanish with most of her courage.

Elvis lifted his head and looked at her. He looked exhausted, but a broad grin spread across his face as his eyes drifted down to her green top. “Honey, you’re a sight for sore eyes!”

Debra’s insides quivered as the word “honey” rolled off his tongue.

“Y’know, I wasn’t gonna see nobody tonight cuz I’ve been a bit under the weather, but your offer made me reconsider.”

“My offer?” Debra repeated, confused. To be fair, her head was swimming from being this close to him, drinking in his aura.

“Weren’t ya gonna show me somethin’?” Elvis’ eyes twinkled mischievously as he prodded for a response. “Somethin’ about lovin’ on me, showin’ me how special I am?” He let out a big, uninhibited laugh at the sight of Debra’s face turning pink. “Honey, I’m jus’ playin’ around. I don’t expect nothin’ from ya. Just wanted ta talk. Gets lonely up here sometimes.” Debra sensed that “up here” did not mean in the penthouse, but in whatever stratosphere Elvis resided in.

“Well, I did mean what I said,” Debra whispered, trying to will her face to cool down. “But I just didn’t think I’d get the chance. I didn’t think you’d really notice me.”

“Honey, I see a lot from up on that stage, but the sight of ya bouncin’ down toward me will stick in my mind for a good long time.” He reached out and traced a finger over her collarbone, sending a shiver through her. She knew without looking that her hardened nipples were now on full display through the thin material of the halter top. Elvis laughed again as her blush returned. “What’s your name, honey?”

Debra cleared her throat and tried to regain her confidence as she announced her name, but the word “Debra” just sent Elvis into more hysterics.

“Oh honey, you’re too much. Debra. It should be no-bra.” Elvis could barely regain his composure, and Debra started giggling in spite of her embarrassment. His fits of laughter were contagious.

“Elvis, that’s not funny,” she protested through tears of laughter.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Elvis panted, finally pulling himself together. “D-Debra honey, I wanna talk some more, but let me put on somethin’ more comfortable, okay? I gotta get out of this sweaty jumpsuit.”

Debra nodded and watched as he rose from the couch and disappeared into what she assumed was his bedroom. She was dying to barge right in and peel that sweaty jumpsuit off of him herself, but she didn’t want to invade his privacy. Debra smiled when he returned wearing a pair of navy blue pajamas.

“I guess you weren’t kidding about getting comfortable, hmm?” She laughed. “Now I feel overdressed.”

Elvis’ mischievous grin returned in full force. “Honey, don’t let me stop ya from changin’ that. You’re certainly welcome ta under-dress yourself.”

It’s now or never, Debra thought, somehow summoning a superhuman confidence as she kicked off her platform heels and rose from the couch.

“If you say so.” Her voice came out in a husky tone as she unzipped her miniskirt and let it drop to the floor. Elvis’ eyes widened as he sank back down on the couch and watched her. She reached behind her neck and untied the straps of her halter top, the shimmery green fabric fluttering down, her breasts now on full display for him.

“Oh damn honey, I guess you really are a woman of your word.” Elvis could feel his body responding as he looked at her standing before him in just her lacy panties. “Cuz I feel very special right now.”

“You should.” Debra straddled his lap and leaned in close to his ear as his hands caressed her bare body. “Because I don’t do this for just anyone.” She kissed those soft sweet lips again, their tongues intertwining as she started unbuttoning his pajamas, letting her hands memorize every inch of his chest and torso before moving down lower. Elvis moaned into her mouth as she slipped her hand inside his pajama bottoms, feeling that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “I guess neither one of us is a fan of undergarments,” she teased.

Elvis half-laughed, half-moaned as she started pumping him with her hand. “I-I-I jus’ wanted ta give ya easy access to show me what was on your mind before, honey.”

“You want me to show you? This is what was on my mind.” Debra slid off his lap and down between his legs, pulling his dick out of his pajamas, touching her lips to the wet tip of it before pulling back to really appreciate the view in front of her, the way his foreskin had rolled back to reveal the sensitive head just begging for some affection.

“Oh God honey, don’t tease me. Kiss me some more,” Elvis moaned as she pressed her lips to him again, this time letting her tongue swirl around and taste the arousal leaking out of him.

“You taste so good,” she whispered, wrapping her lips around him and taking him in as deep as she could. Elvis reached down and played with her nipples while she sucked on him, letting out little groans of satisfaction. Suddenly his head tilted back and his breath started hitching. He jerked his hips up and she felt him pulsing in her mouth, his cum spurting out.

“Oh shit, honey, that felt so good.” Elvis leaned back against the couch, too spent to even tuck his goods back in his pants. Debra took the opportunity to straddle him again, enjoying the feeling of his softening dick rubbing against her most sensitive spot through her wet panties.

“Honey, I can take care of you, too,” Elvis whispered, already half-asleep.

“Shh, this was about you right now,” Debra soothed, holding him close and running her hands through his dark hair, their bare chests pressed against each other. “You are special and loved.”

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

DAI x BG3 matchups I need to see. I’m not good at writing crossovers nor am I clever at all. This is very much non-exhaustive and very much not the end point of these characters’ potential interactions with each other.

Karlach + Sera + Iron Bull

The absolute chaos. The absolute CHAOS. A powerhouse. Putting aside Karlach’s demon heritage aside, she and Iron Bull tossing back tankards and swapping war stories as vets that have been dealt shitty hands but continue to chug along despite it. Karlach and Sera connecting over growing up mainly on the streets and having soft spots for little ragamuffins. Plus they all talk about women’s tits a lot. I feel Sera would find Karlach sexy and funny.

Wyll + Cole

Like Solas and Varric, Wyll would take to Cole because he recognizes Cole’s desire to help others, even if his methods are a bit unorthodox. He would recognize Cole’s soul as gentle and kind, and his efforts to atone for the murders he committed in the Tower as proof of his humanity. He will join the Uncle-Dad Duo and complete the Uncle-Dad Trio. Cole would gravitate toward Wyll’s goodness in turn, and probably tell Wyll that him making a contract wasn’t foolish because in the end he saved a city, and if that was his desire, then he committed no sin in doing so.

Solas + Astarion

The messiest shit can only occur, and my messy bitch self wants to see it. Watch as Solas’s upright and stiff demeanor utterly bores Astarion. Watch as Astarion’s selfishness, penchant for violence, and casual disregard for the well-being of others utterly pisses Solas the fuck off. Watch as Astarion yawns or interrupts Solas’s lectures with a “yes, yes, we get it” or the most dramatic eyeroll and overwrought “ugh”. Watch as Solas and Astarion immediately sniff each other out as liars and schemers from first jump and hold each other at a distance, the tension spiking at random moments early in them knowing each other where the other prods at their falsehoods. Watch as Astarion is dumbfounded by Solas expressing his condolences to Astarion upon learning of Astarion’s enslavement to his master, because how could a man who holds such reproach for him still manage to feel pity? ‘It is not pity, but compassion, which you are at liberty to reject. That is your right as a free man, just as it is my right to feel it.’

In the best case scenario, Astarion calms down eventually, teasing Solas but still treating him like that friend of a friend that you grudgingly admit is useful. I think a part of Astarion would find Solas’s penchant dislike of him funny.

Vivienne + Astarion + Dorian

We are all doomed. The haughtiness will be scarcely contained. Dorian and Astarion are definitely flirting. Fucking? Not sure. But definitely flirting and enjoying killing bad guys, playfully arguing over wine, snickering over Solas’s shabby dress.

Shadowheart + Leliana

Tools forged to serve a religious order? Check. Crisis of faith? Check. Subterfuge preferred? Check.

Lae’zel + Cassandra

Soldiers recognizing soldiers. 🫡 ‘Why are the men around me so annoying.’

Minsc & Boo + Cole

Cole might be able to understand Boo! If not his speech, then his little hamster feelings. Minsc might be wary of Cole for the information that he manages to glean from Minsc’s head, but his unquestioned understanding of Boo would probably smooth that bump in the road, right?

Solas + Gale

A friend remarked that Gale would remind Solas too much of himself (prideful, ambitious) and thus they would not get along. There is that. I think that Gale would get a small smile out of Solas every now and then with his quips, because Solas himself is clearly a fan of banter; Gale would provide more of the energy in the same way Dorian does with his and Solas’s more civil banters. Gale and Solas also both hold a great measure of respect and adoration for magic as a force, an element, a piece of entirety that is beautiful for its own existence. Not simply just what magic can do for them as wielders of magic, but what it is and how it does so much to enhance a person’s understanding and interaction with the world, as precious as sight or sound.

Minthara + Iron Bull

Oh she will have him cowed in a goddamn minute. Oh man. Oh no. ‘Yes ma’am’, ‘no ma’am’.

Minthara + Cassandra

Oh this would be so interesting. Disciplined, serious bulwarks with little time for silly little men—Minthara would share Cassandra’s frustration and lack of amusement with Varric, though Cassandra would consider her suggestions to maim him.

Solas + Halsin + Iron Bull

I see potential here. Iron Bull and Solas already have a dynamic of Iron Bull’s “I have a pretty good idea of who you are, and it’s a liar” toward Solas, while Solas grudgingly respects Iron Bull’s strength and mental acumen in the same way you would respect a very intelligent bear—do not draw attention more than necessary, but stand tall lest it smell fear. Halsin feels like a softer Iron Bull, a mediation between the two. Like Iron Bull, his stature and build belies a thoughtful and sharp mind. Like Solas, he sees everything as connected, feeding into the other as part of a system, and would too feel a sense of loss at magic and mundane being so dramatically split as it is in Thedas—an aberration against what is natural. Also like Iron Bull, he’s frank with his sexuality. I’m certain the two would swap stories over booze. The trio would be arguably the three most mature and experienced in a room in any given situation. Not only that, but Halsin is far more actively in touch with his heart and honest with his feelings than Solas or Iron Bull. The latter two very much care about their loved ones, but with Solas it is under the surface and with Iron Bull it’s mixed up in cultural trappings of romance not being a “thing” in his culture, and thus both struggle with their feelings. Halsin however is very much in touch. There is next to nothing obstructing what his head and heart wants. He listens to his heart and he follows it. Solas and Iron Bull could learn a thing or two from him, tbh

Also I feel like Iron Bull, Halsin, and even Solas have a bit of a brat tamer streak in them so there’s that

Also Astarion would outright reject the notion of drinking Cullen’s blood cuz it smells like battery acid.

[muffinsin]

hey i really liked that feral cass post, i keep rereading it. was wondering if you would ever consider doing a pt 2?

Hell yeah🙌 have a feeling someone else might like a p2 to this!

Part 1: here

Let’s get into it! :)

Masterlists

You’re carried; far, far away, it seems. You couldn’t find your way back to the village even if you wanted to

This creature- this woman..her grip is tight on you, but not bruising. She snarls at all around you

Leaves, trees, little animals scurrying across your path

Then, at last, far in the distance you can see the tip of a tower. As you get closer, you see more and more. Eventually, a castle is revealed

Only when she carries you towards the rusty gates and heavy doors do you notice what castle this is, just where you have found yourself

Castle Dimitrescu

They say, this is where all dies

Men are tortured and killed instantly, made into scarecrows or thrown aside in the dirt out front

Women are imprisoned, made to work, made to serve, only to be taken, tortured and killed or turned into wine at the smallest mistake. Or so they say

You wonder, will this be your fate? Is the woman carrying you to your death?

It doesn’t seem so, though. The woman doesn’t come across as though she has ill intent for you

She is feral, this much you can say. More of an animal than a human even, perhaps

But, it brings you a certain amount of comfort, too. You know at least, she will not attempt to deceive and trick you

You watch silently as heavy doors are opened and the warmth of the castle greets you

Your stomach growls when you pass what must be the kitchens, the sound alerting the feral brunette

She stares down at you, as though unsure what that noise was. Just as you think she will investigate, though, she keeps walking

You notice, all attempt to avoid her. No one glances your way, all make space for her. Clearly, this woman is just as dangerous as she comes across

You’re carried a little longer, through long hallways with red rugs and white-golden walls adorned with paintings and lights, past wide vases and small cabinets

Then, she steps into a room you know must be hers

Weapons are scattered across the floor and walls and while a bed is present in the room, there is a large pile of blankets, pillows, clothing, even some items on the floor. You immediately recognize this as her nest

And, true to this, she sets you down on it gently. You feel the soft cushions below you, the warm and thick blankets

Around you, you see dresses. Some too big to possibly fit her, some a little too slim for her, but matching hers in color and style precisely. You spot lipstick, daggers, necklaces and rings, books, pictures, pencils, and more among the cushions

Then, a picture catches your eye

You look up to find the woman staring at you, and slowly, slow enough for her to react should she want to, you take the painting from underneath a pillow and pick it up

She only continues to stare for a few moments, then busies herself by biting into some of the pillows and readjusting their position

You allow yourself to breathe, albeit shakily, then take in the picture in your hand

Four women, one tall, enormously so, in a white dress and a black hat. You know this woman. Alcina Dimitrescu, one of the lords of the village. You remember seeing her picture in the church

Then, three shorter women, all dressed in the same black dress. Among them, your feral saviour

The other two look nearly the same upon a quick look, but you soon notice differences, such as their hair colour, blonde and auburn, and the shape of their face

You spot writing at the bottom of the painting; Countess Dimitrescu and her three daughters. Bela, Cassandra, Daniela

“Cassandra..”, you say out loud, trying the name on your tongue

You nearly jump when her head snaps up, her eyes scanning you as though she is attempting to figure out what you want

Again, your stomach growls. You can’t remember the last time you ate

This time, the woman moves

You jump when she leans forwards, the tip of her nose nearly touching your stomach

Then, she growls. Did she think your growling stomach was an insult?

You can’t be sure, but feel too petrified to move even as your stomach keeps growling and the woman- Cassandra- keeps growling back at it

You feel your blood run cold, but eventually speak. You fear should you not, she might attack. You don’t want to imagine what risks that might bring to your unborn child

“I’m hungry”, you whisper

“I’m hungry”- Cassandra knows those words. She has heard them before. Hungry. Cold. Good. Bad. You. I. Yes. No

She knows them, but what are the meanings again? She shakes her head, as though trying to clear it

Then, just when she thinks your stomach will demand a fight again, she catches the sweet scent again

She still can’t understand what is so different, so special, about you

As though to make up for her growls though, she gently, or as gentle as she can, nuzzles her cheek against the round stomach. What a curious little creature you are indeed

She freezes when she feels your hand near her. You’re cupping the stomach. Why? She doesn’t understand. Though, she wants to learn

You watch as her hand reaches out, then sets it on your stomach too. She doesn’t seem to understand, merely copies your movements

The moment seems to go on for far longer than it does. It’s not unpleasant, though

Then, in the next few seconds already, it stops. She jumps up, then, to your surprise, she darts out the room, halfway turning into flies in her go

Cassandra races past maids and so, her mind set on a single goal: to retrieve food for you. She remembers now what hunger means. It means, she must fetch you some prey

Too feral to sit back and think, she races past the kitchens and back outside

It’s an easy task to find you something small for the time being, until she can bring you a nice and thick bear

She tracks sounds easily, her head snapping from one direction in the other. She’s drooling slightly

Then, golden eyes find her prey. A deer, in perfect shape it seems, feasting near the castle grounds

Of course, she can take it down in no time

While lacking her older sister’s coordination and younger sister’s speed, Cassandra still manages to catch up in no time at all, her arm wrestling around the creature’s neck and bringing it to the floor

From this on, it’s almost too easy

But she doesn’t kill for her pride, nor for showing off. She feels no such things, only the urge, the duty, the obligation to catch, fetch, and bring you the nutrients you require

And yet, you nearly scream when the door opens again and a deer is tossed to you. Dead, certainly. And fresh. You nearly vomit at the sight and smell

Cassandra doesn’t seem to understand

She nudges its side with her hand like a cat might do with its paw, her golden eyes searching yours

Her lips part, as though she is about to speak, but no words get past them. Instead, only low growls and grunts

You swallow hard to keep from vomiting as you feel the deer’s blood on your hands

Then, you press your eyes shut when she leans down and digs her sharp teeth into its tender flesh

You hear her feast, watch the blood smear her face when you open your eyes back up

But, she doesn’t swallow the bites in her mouth. Instead, part of the animal’s flesh hangs from her mouth, held tight between her teeth

You freeze as she crawls closer. More and more you feel like prey. Will you end up the same as the deer?

No, certainly not

Instead, you watch with wonder and slight disgust as she drops her bite, the tender flesh falling directly into your hands

She nuzzles your stomach again, and again

“I-I can’t eat that”, you whisper

She looks up, her head cocked. You watch as she picks the piece up again and bites a part off. She eats, swallows, then looks back up at you

You understand what she means

“I mean- I- humans, we don’t eat that”, you clarify

She looks puzzled yet again, and you can’t entirely blame her. You’re sure it must be strange to look after a human when she is surrounded by her family, who you’d bet shares her special diet

You close your eyes, your mouth watering at the memory of the smell from earlier. You smelled cake, you smelled grilled vegetables, you smelled cooked meat, you caught the faint scent of toasted bread, even

“The kitchen has human food”, you add when no response comes from her

You yelp when you’re picked up again. Truthfully, you don’t mind in the slightest, as your ankle still aches painfully with every step you attempt to make

Cassandra, as feral as she is in this state, takes good care of you, you notice

Better care of you than the villagers have done

You smile to yourself as you feel her cool skin against you

Perhaps, you can take care of her in return

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #34

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [Intermission] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33]

[AO3] [wattpad]

*Sinbad feeling jealous and possessive (this is why I put the kinda yandere tag on AO3) (it will also become a thing for a while so expect to see it tagged here often) ~POV Generals~ What had they just witnessed? Mori waved at them as she left to return to the festival; all the while, the Womanizer of the Seven Seas stared after her instead of paying attention to the women on his lap. No one had expected Mori to flirt with Sinbad to tell him 'no,' but clearly it was affective. All of the Generals knew of the growing soft spot Sinbad was forming for his Prophet, but never had they expected their over confident King to look so lost.

The giant's laugh boomed across the whole platform, Sharrkan whistled, and Yam squealed.

Yam was barely able to contain herself. "The Rukh are going crazy! There's no way he could deny his feelings after that!!! Mori will definitely move into the Purple Leo Tower sooOOoon~!"

Pisti giggled and added. "Why stop there? She should just move straight into King Sinbad's bed."

Sharrkan gestured towards them with his cup. "Here's to you two making winning the bet better for my pockets."

On the first day the Generals met Mori they started placing bets. Would Sinbad realize his feelings before going to the Kou Empire? Would Mori be moved into the Purple Leo Tower as soon as Sinbad realizes? Both women immediately bet that Mori would move into the Purple Leo Tower before the trip to the Kou Empire -Yam because of what she saw in the Rukh, and Pisti because she thought she could push them into it with enough interventions and it was funny to her. Nearly all the Generals placed bets one by one. Sharrkan waited until after the meeting the other day, when he decided on Sinbad not being interested in Mori at all.

Yam yelled at her 'Arch Nemesis,' "What's that supposed to mean??"

"Have you seen our King? If he was actually interested in Mori this would be over already."

"Are you blind??"

Drakon commented at the other table. "He can be very stubborn, but it seems even Sinbad is finally notices the change in himself." The first household member had bet that his King would ultimately figure it out before his trip to the Kou Empire.

Hina mused. "He's like a little kid having a crush for the first time. At least he's mature enough to not pull their hair as he struggles to figure it out." The giant's bet was on Sin not realizing his feelings until after he leaves for the Kou Empire. Their separation would be the trigger.

"True," Drakon agreed, "but he doesn't have the best track record. Sinbad has no experience with a real relationship."

"Ain't that the truth. Still, I'm sure we'll be hearing good news soon."

Drakon smiled and nodded with his old friend.

Pisti yelled, "I have to know what she said!" before following after Mori.

For the record: Masrur had added to both Drakon and Hina's bets instead of making his own -he trusted the experience of 2 men that had actually gotten married over the words of a womanizer. Spartos refused to be a part of the bet on principle. Nearly all of the Generals agreed on 1 thing: as soon as/if Sinbad accepts he's in love, nothing could stop him. Ja'far was the outlier on that point. Sinbad was following Mori's pace whether he was conscious of it or not. If Mori wasn't ready he'd hold back which meant that even if Sin did realize his feelings, there was a high chance that nothing would change right away, so the only bet he placed was against Sharrkan.

--- ~POV Mori~ I held back giggling until I was out of sight. I don't know if Sin naturally gets more subby when he's drunk but it was in line with how he's shown getting clingy and sappy when drunk in the og and side comics. Regardless, doming him was thrilling. It was obvious that Sinbad preferred being the dom, but as a switch, I was happy to learn he could be a good sub for me under the right conditions~ (I may be asexual, but I'm the horny sex favorable type, and into BDSM.) I know I won't have an opportunity to actually be sexual with Sinbad since we'll never be in a relationship -I set those rules to protect myself- so I would just have to enjoy playing with him outside of a bedroom.

I meant what I told him too; he can be with whomever he wants when I'm not around because if someone is mine they will come back to me with their full attention -not that Sinbad was actually mine. 'That shocked expression on him was so cute!' This felt wonderful. For that moment I was the only thing he could think about. It was almost like he had feelings for me. It didn't stop me from being pissed though. 'He really asked me to join a bunch of call girls that were being paid to fawn over him??' At least he took his punishment well, so I was able to let off some steam.

It wasn't enough though. I had too much energy left. The mix of negative feelings barely hiding under the good ones were a strong reminder to my ex fiancé. Wish fulfillment would only trigger me. I needed a distraction asap. There was still one thing I hadn't gotten to do yet at this festival -and I love dancing and singing- so I chose that.

As if to answer my wish, the waves brought Pisti to me. After I answered her questions, she was more than happy to help me learn the dances here in Sindria. Most of the dancers were locals, but there was an area where tourists were learning some of the basics. Pisti stayed with me until one of her boyfriends showed up and whisked her away. By that point I had found my rhythm so I didn't have a problem with not knowing anyone. No one would bother me here. The more I embraced the moment and unmasked, the happier I was. Finally. This was what I needed. The waves helped me learn the patterns of the music and dances, so I could keep up better. --- ~POV Generals~ The women around Sinbad whined for his attention, and he returned it, but barely. It was obvious to everyone who had known him through the last decade that his heart wasn't in it. The Womanizer of the Seven Seas was unable to keep it up. He got up and walked to the edge of the platform alone. He was standing there before Pisti came back and remained staring out at the festival after she returned and explained that Mori wouldn't be back anytime soon.

Sahel, Drakon's wife, smiled. "I see why you thought it was different this time."

Her husband nodded, "I believe this might be the moment I was waiting for. Our King is finally thinking about it in earnest."

Sharrkan grumbled into his cup. "If he realized he likes her, then why isn't he doing anything?"

Sahel answered, "He's still processing his feelings." She looked between her husband and Hina. "Teasing him will only make him double down."

The giant rested an arm on the table and leaned on it. "Then how would you push him?"

She put down her cup and turned towards their King. "Your Majesty!" Sahel called out and Sinbad looked back at her. "You should go after her if you're that worried!"

The King pressed a hand against his closed eyes before combing it through his bangs.

"It will make you feel better!"

Sin turned back towards the festival.

Hinahoho snorted another laugh. "I thought you said not to tease him!"

"Give it time."

--- ~POV Mori~ When I finally stepped off the dance floor, the moon was high in the sky. I got carried away and turned wrong, so my left hip tried to pop out of the socket. I've had loose joints since I was little so I knew how to take care of it. After putting it back in place, I tried to find a place to sit down; my legs felt ready to give out on me. Most of the benches were taken up by the elderly, and families with young children just like earlier. I finally found a spot a bit out of the way. As soon as I sat down, I knew I was not going to be able to get up for a while; my feet, back and hips burned from over use even after fixing my bone alignment. My feet would be fine in an hour (I pace all the time), but I could tell I wouldn't be so lucky with the rest. I looked around at the view that was going to keep me company while I rested. Luckily, I could still see the King's platform from here, and the steps leading up to the Palace over the city- "Shit." 'I have to climb those steps, and the steps of the guest tower get to my room. Maybe I should stay at a hotel tonight. I'll send Sin the bill since this is his fault.' --- ~POV Sinbad~ Somehow, that was the hottest thing Sinbad had ever experienced and it was someone turning him down. None of what happened made any sense to him while it was happening. That feeling only Mori gave him had filled him to the point of stupidity. Mori said they fell for him while reading his Fate; even if it was said in jest, there had to be some truth in it, so how could they turn him down? Becoming sober let him remember Mori admitting to being a tease on purpose. 'Damnit.'

No matter how much the others made fun of their King, he wouldn't budge. Nothing was wrong with him. He wasn't sulking. Sure, not flirting with groups of women was the rarity for him, but the Prophet knew exactly how to get under his skin. He had been too drunk when Mori was messing with him, but not so drunk as to follow after them. Still, he couldn't deny that ever since they left he was abundantly aware of their absence. 'Maybe I should follow after them.' It is what he had wanted to do since morning.

Pisti had returned hours ago, but not the Prophet. Hina even took his children home to bed, and the other Generals started turning in, but Mori still hadn't returned. Ja'far let him know that the Sindrian knights that were guarding the Prophet were sending reports, but it wasn't enough. The King had to go make sure everything was fine with his own eyes.

The waves led him to where Mori was sitting on a bench farther away from the dance stages than he was expecting, and she wasn't alone. There was a group of men around her. The fact that Mori was smiling at them made something dark twist Sinbad's insides. She didn't like when he flirted with multiple people in front of her, and yet here she was doing the same thing to him -although, she didn't know he would see.

One of those men grabbed her hand and all of Sinbad's muscles tensed on reflexed. Mori's expression and tone hardened immediately. "What do you think you're doing?!" She wasn't interested in them at all. The only person she likes holding her hand is Sinbad.

He shouldn't feel this giddy that she rejected them. Maybe something was wrong with him after all. Sinbad called out to announce his presence. "So this is where my Beautiful Prophet has been." The men surrounding her froze in a satisfying way.

"King Sinbad!" Mori looked tired, and the glint in her eyes was relief that he came for her.

Sinbad shouldn't have held back from following after her. The waves rose the closer he got.

The man holding Mori's hand let go and took a step back after making eye contact with the King. Sinbad directed his words at his Beautiful Prophet, "It's getting awfully late," then scanned the faces of the group bothering her, "You were planning on coming back soon, weren't you?" And then looked back at her.

Mori's laugh was full the nerves. "I wanted to go back much earlier, but I uh..." she glanced at the recent problem before looking back at her King.

The group of men said some hurried good'byes before leaving around the corner. Too bad for them that the waves gave away that they were still there -just out of sight.

Sinbad offered Mori his hand. "Now that you're free, let me escort you back." He wanted to replace the memory of that man's hand with his own.

Mori took his hand with the one he wanted, but stayed sitting. "Thank you for coming to get me." They squeezed his hand.

His heart swelled; he squeeze her hand back. "The waves will always lead me to you whenever you need me."

Her face turned a little pink. "You never quit, do you?"

"Do you want me to?" Sin teased.

Mori's smile dropped as she seemed to think about his question honestly. She answered through a pout. "No... because then you wouldn't be you."

He laughed. "Good. Because I don't want to stop either." Mori's words always managed to warm his heart. "Shall we go back now?"

Her free hand gripped the fabric of her skirt. "People talking to me isn't the main reason I'm still here."

"Hmm?" he encouraged.

Her smile grew like a child being caught red-handed. "I danced so much that I hurt my hips..."

Sin wished he had seen it. "Ah- Pisti said you were dancing." The stage was too far away from where he sat. He'd have things rearranged for next time.

"Yeah. It was really fun but," she looked down at her legs, "I can tell my legs will give out if I try to walk back on my own right now." Her head whipped back up at him, and she flailed her free hand. "I was hoping I'd be better enough to walk back *before* someone came looking for me."

The feeling of being watched stole his attention for a moment. Those men were still watching from around the corner to see if Sinbad was going to leave Mori alone again. He hadn't been completely sure at first, but this was proof they were coveting his Beautiful Prophet. 'Now what should I do to make sure no one else-'

"HMM???" Mori's voice cracked and pulled his attention back to her. They made eye contact and she took her hand back from him to covered her face with both hands. "It's nothing! I'm tired so I just had a very dumb idea for how I could get back without walking."

"Oh?" This side of her always made him want to tease her. "I want to hear this 'dumb idea.'" Mori's knees tensed, and the way she moved one hand to pulled at the fabric there paired with her words and made a very interesting idea form in his own head. In fact, it was a good way make sure unnecessary people stayed away from Mori in the future. Sinbad didn't want to end up punishing his own citizens because his Prophet was too Beautiful to resist. The waves were on his side.

Mori released the remaining hand covering her face and started flailing it in front of herself as if she was trying to shoo something away. "Don't pay attention to it! I said it's stupid! It's not necessary!"

It took a second for Sinbad to realize what she was talking about. She was trying to shoo away the waves that were gathering around them. The waves were responding to his idea, but from Mori's reaction it was also the 'stupid idea' she was hiding. These waves were moving this way because they wanted the same thing! His heart felt like it was going to burst from that feeling only Mori gave him. He couldn't blame this on being drunk like he could earlier. He couldn't say if this feeling was what everyone thought it was yet -this was still too new to him to be sure- but he also couldn't deny that Mori was special to him. Sinbad had never felt particularly lonely, and yet meeting someone else that could undeniably feel the same waves as him gave him a sense of connection he didn't know he was missing.

He could respond properly, but that was less fun. "What shouldn't I pay attention to?" He smiled as he leaned over her.

Mori glared up at him, but he wouldn't respond until she said it directly. "My waves." Yes. She was the only other person that could feel the waves. She was able to understand an aspect of his lived experience that no one else would ever be able to truly understand. And what's more, she knew his greatest mistakes and still stayed by his side.

Sinbad laughed. "Yes. But what about them isn't necessary?" She was being too cute to correct right away.

Why wouldn't he want to make sure no one could take her from him? Surely, not wanting to keep her all to himself would be a true sign that there was something wrong with him. If this feeling was what everybody thought it was then he was starting to understand the hype.

"You-!" Her face was growing more red by the second. Mori clenched her eyes and turned her head down. "Their suggestion!" Her hands held her legs by her knees where the waves were focusing. When he didn't respond, Mori's eyes peeked up at him while her head continued to face down. "...It's not something a King should do, right? And... those rumors have already spread outside the Palace..."

She was right; only a few hours ago, he was intentionally trying to counter those rumors. And she rejected him because of that decision. King Sinbad let out a sigh he couldn't hold back and uncrossed his arms. Her expression was a challenge to deny it, and he obliged, "It's fine." He had let his Generals teasing bother him to the point that he missed something very important. Not anymore.

"But..." Mori's protest had no strength behind it.

Sinbad rested a hand on the back of the bench. She fell for him while reading his Fate, but she also couldn't see past everything she knew about him from those same visions -just like he had also been stuck in his own self perception. Yes, he was finally seeing things clearly. If Mori had never told him about those parts of her visions then he would have figured it out sooner. "Let me help you get back. I don't mind walking with you, but I have a feeling we've both thought of a faster method. These wave are responding to my will just as much as yours."

Mori broke eye contact. "But... I don't want to be the reason others pressure you about something you hate that much. In my visions you had a nightmare about being married." She's wasn't rejecting him because she's didn't want him. It was because she was afraid of being rejected by him if she crossed the line.

It was true that he had never he wanted to get married or have a partner before but, "I'm actually fanning those rumors on purpose right now." Mori's head whipped back to look at him; their expression asked the question they couldn't verbalize. He was fully willing and able to change to get whatever he wanted.

Mori's blush reached it's fullest extent. "Ah- um." They broke eye contact. "Gimme a minute."

"Take your time," was what he said but it wouldn't be long before they'd agree. The waves had only gotten stronger.

Not even 30 seconds later Mori furrowed their brow. "It is late. And I'm exhausted. And I shouldn't walk in this condition. And there's no way I'm going be better enough get there on my own tonight." Sin laughed at the excuses they were using to accept it. They looked up at him. "I don't know why you want to feed the rumors now, but don't ignore the new rule I placed when you want to get rid of them again."

There was no way in hell he'd flirt with anyone other than Mori when they were an option. "You'll never have to worry about me doing that ever again."

"Okay then." Their expression dared him to take it back, but he never would.

"Then, may I carry you, my Beautiful Prophet?" Sinbad learned earlier that night, that Mori prefers explicit over implicit consent, and using it on her made her pupils dilate in a very satisfying way.

Mori hid her face in her hands again. She took a few deep breaths as she regained the will to answer. A quiet, "Yes," snuck past her fingers, and was followed by a slightly louder, "I'll just be embarrassed."

"I can live with that." Sinbad reached down to follow through on the waves' direction. His right hand went under her knees, and his left around her shoulders. Mori continued to cover her face with her hands as he lifted her. She didn't hesitate to lean her head against his shoulder. The weight in his arms made that dark feeling from earlier dissipated completely. 'Mine.' Carrying her back would send the clearest message: Mori wasn't just Sindria's Prophet, she was Sinbad's Prophet.

((Time to remember to breathe. I was on a stay at home vacation this week so I was able to make time to finish this chapter. And because I had extra time I gave in and painted the last illustration :3

I'm going to try to have the last 2 chapters of the arc done very close to each other because of all the emotions involved))

[fe-fictions]

How about a story where Robin is dating someone else and Frederick is pining in the background, wallowing how he missed his shot to confess after the war. Yet, he overhears Robin's lover saying that he's only dating Robin to get close to Ylissean's elite. *Holds hands up in prayer* Please make it happen!

(I wrote this for sooo long and it got so much longer than I meant to...it just feels so nice to be writing for Frederick again ;; U ;; )

He was never the type to be regretful, or feel like he’d missed something important. No, he did his best to live honorably and live his life to the absolute fullest.

The struggle came when he realized he had feelings for you. Feelings that he was determined to push aside until the war ended, until things had calmed down enough that he could plan a proper path to courtship with you.

But the knight had taken too long. When he finally felt that he was ready to tell you, he discovered that you were in a relationship with one of the soldiers that had fought valiantly.

In fact, there was little Frederick could find wrong with him; he was charming and kind, friendly with everyone he met, and especially gracious around nobility and royalty among the ranks. Not only that, but he did had a terrible habit of making you laugh quite easily.

Frederick would be lying if he said it didn’t drive him up a wall. The man was quite talented when it came to getting under the lieutenant’s skin, and he was making it even more difficult for him to get any closer to you. 

After all, you were already a high profile individual, so your free time was sparse. But now, the time that you had once spent training him to stomach bear meat and helping him put out and start the camp fires had suddenly disappeared.

Chrom was the first to notice the sudden distance being put between his lieutenant and tactician, although that was namely because of how much more often your new beau had been making an appearance.

The pair of men were sitting in the prince’s tent, enjoying a rousing game of chess, when his Exalt brought the subject up.

“So…Robin’s new relationship is rather…interesting, isn’t it?”

Frederick hoped the twitch of his eye did not betray his otherwise flawless poker face. He moved his rook forward.

“It is certainly quite the change of pace for Robin, yes. It seems that they get along well.”

“I suppose so, yes…but sometimes, I do wonder about his intentions.” Chrom replied, moving his own piece as he spoke.

“What do you mean, milord? You think his intentions with Robin are malicious?”

“Not necessarily malicious, no…but I do not believe his motivations are purely because he wishes to court Robin.”

“Please elaborate, milord.”

“Well, he seems to have taken a lot of interest in the nobility, lately. He’ll tag along with Robin to a council meeting or training session, but he’ll usually float off to speak with Maribelle, or Sumia…sometimes, he’ll corner Lissa.”

“Corner?” Frederick echoed, bristling, “You mean he is trying to ‘play the field’ with the the noblewomen of your court, Prince Chrom? That is unacceptable! Not only because it is harassment towards those fine women, but also because he's taking advantage of Robin!”

“Now, don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Frederick.” Chrom quickly cut in before Frederick could throw in another passionate paragraph about the virtues this man clearly lacked.

The knight huffed, trying his best to retain his patience (and failing).

“I can’t prove anything. I just know what I saw. If his intentions are beyond Robin, we’ll need to figure out what he wants.”

“I will conduct a most in-depth investigation, milord. You needn’t worry.” Frederick rose from his seat, bowing deeply to Chrom. “ I will personally investigate the matter at hand and return with results immediately!”

“But the game isn’t…ah, nevermind.” Chrom sighed, starting to reset the board after the tent flap closed. “You’ve always had one hells of a soft spot for her, anyway.”

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

If there was one thing that everyone around you knew, it was that you always knew more than you let on...and such knowledge you withheld should never be tested.

While the war was over and there was no longer any need for such a keen eye while everyone made the long journey home…you did find that it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the behavior your lover was portraying.

It started with small mentions of your relationship with the royal family. How you and Chrom seemed to be quite close, and how Lissa got on with you well.

Maribelle was the next mentioned, followed by Sumia, and Ricken…

It didn’t take long to notice his fascination seemed solely focused on the wealthiest of the Shepherds, rather than the whole of your friend group.

He had little interest in Frederick, Vaike, or Stahl…at first you wondered if it was because they were men…but then you realized they weren’t exactly of “noble” birth.

But you opted to ignore it, since he would let the subject go whenever you expressed interest in speaking of something else.

But then he would invite himself into meetings or conversations when you were standing next to them.

If Maribelle and Ricken were talking about strategies for rebuillding the Ylissean economy, it wouldn’t take long for him to appear and start to engage the pair and leave you behind.

Baking with Sumia? He was an excellent baking assistant (for Sumia).

Planning pranks on Virion with Lissa? He had just the thing to really get under the archer’s skin…

It was becoming stifling.

The one thing you were grateful for was that he never seemed able to get close to Chrom, as hard as he tried.

You supposed you had Frederick to thank for that. He didn’t seem fond of your choice in boyfriend, even though his only flaw was he seemed to be overly curious about the wealthier individuals.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” You had him on a walk one afternoon, doing a lazy patrol of the camp while they set up for the night. “Are you happy with me?”

He seemed genuinely stunned when you asked that, a bewildered smile on his lips.

“Why, whatever do you mean? I find myself enraptured with you more and more with every passing day.”

“I would be inclined to believe that, if I didn’t find you gallivanting around with practically every other Shepherd except for me.”

“What? I’m certain that’s not true.”

“Whenever I’m with Lissa or Sumia, you’re chatting with them like I’m not there. And if Ricken comes over, you’re slinging your arm around his shoulders and carting him away before I can even say hello! It’s a constant issue.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, my dear. It was never my intention to do such a thing. Besides, I think you’re overreacting a bit. I’m just trying to get to know your friends better. You want me to have a good relationship with them, don’t you?”

“Sure, but…” You hesitated, finding it difficult to pull the words together. “But it seems like you’re only interested in a few of my friends. You don’t seem to be interested in Stahl, or Donnel…Frederick is an excellent man to befriend, but you turn your nose up when you see him! A-and that’s not to mention Panne, Tharja or Libra…it just seems like you’re only trying to befriend them because they’ve got notoriety, whereas the others don’t.”

“Hah…it seems I wasn’t as careful as I thought.” Your beau sighed, running a hand through his hair, “You see, Robin, it isn’t false that I want to spend more time with your friends and colleagues who are of noble birth compared to others. But I have a good reason for it!”

“Really?” You quirked an eyebrow, already unimpresed with his confession.

It had already felt as though he was using you to step over and connect with the wealthy. Outright admitting it wasn’t something you were pleased to hear.

“I am doing it for us, Robin! You see, we don’t have the opportunities afforded to those who are of high social standing. If not just you, but the both of us are highly regarded by those in the upper echelons of society, then it will only result in upward mobility for both of us!”

“I can understand that, but…I’m friends with them because they’re good people. Not because I wanted to become a noble, myself.”

“It’s certainly very commendable that you can think that way, Robin, but I’m afraid that’s naïve. You have no idea what it’s like to suffer through challenges that nobility simply breeze past! If I- that is, if we- can move forward and garner that notoriety, think of how much better our futures will be! And the future for our family!”

“Our fami-” You stuttered, eyes blown wide, “What on earth are you talking about?! We’ve barely been together for a few months! You want to have a family with me?”

“Of course! You’re an excellent tactician, and you know so many wonderful, affluent people. It will be to our advantage if we marry!”

“Um…I…think I need to take a walk.” You moved away from him, holding out a hand to stop him when his mouth opened in protest. “Alone, please.”

When you moved away from him, you felt quite shaken. Perhaps it was because you were feeling so out of sorts that it was clear on your face.

You received a few odd looks from other Shepherds, but it was Frederick who expressed the first concern.

“Robin,” His voice was gentle, but loud enough to draw you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him not realizing you were looking deeply troubled. “...Are you all right?”

“Yes, I am, I…” You trailed off, glancing back. The soldier you fancied had already run off somewhere. Likely to chase after the nobles, or maybe sniff out Chrom.

“You do not sound certain.” He was not convinced, “Would you like to talk about what’s troubling you? Perhaps I could be of assistance.”

“I’d hate to bother you with it. It’s…rather trivial, really. And it involves my courtship.”

Frederick did not hesitate, waving a dismissive hand. “I am your ally and friend, above all else. If your relationship troubles you, I wish for you to feel safe enough that you can confide in me.”

The two of you headed away from the camp, finding a peaceful patch of wildflowers to take a moment and enjoy the quiet.

He could practically see the discomfort radiating off you, and it did make him worry about what was going on.

Thankfully, it would not take long for you to explain what the issue was.

“He’s…he’s a good person, I think. We get along more often than not, but lately it feels like he’s not looking to spend time with me.” You sighed, resting your chin on your palm, “It feels like he’s using me to get close to others.”

“Others of notable rank.” Frederick added. You glanced over at him, and he shrugged. “It is not subtle, Robin. He is not as careful as he thinks he is.”

“So you suspect ulterior motives?” Your question was met with a ready nod, the man just shrugging in response. “I asked him about it. He said he’s trying to get close to the nobility for both our sakes. He wants our ‘family’ to have an easier life, an easier path than what he and I have as…non-nobles.”

Frederick had worked very hard to suppress the choke when you said the word “family”. 

“I see. And do you intend to…settle down with this…individual?”

“I don’t know what I intend to do.” You shook your head, “We’ve only been dating for a few months! We’re nowhere near serious enough for that to have crossed my mind. But it's clear he wants it, and if he’s trying to do all this, er, connection building with the royals and nobles of Ylisse, then…I don’t know, maybe it’s good?”

“But if you aren’t looking to marry him…”

“There's no reason for him to say all that.” You huffed, “I don’t know what I want. The way Lissa and Sumia talk about love, it seems like they’re sure. But when he spoke of marriage and family with me…I don’t know, it didn't make me feel sure.”

“It is certainly a conundrum.” Frederick agreed with you, looking up at the sky. “If you wish to hear my point of view-”

“-Which I do-”

“-I do not believe that he is pursuing the nobility with good intentions. I do not mean to speak ill of his character, but he is not the first nor the last to use others as a means to build his reputation.”

“So you don’t think that he’s doing it for ‘us’?” 

Frederick hesitated, looking at you for a long moment. “I do not wish to demean his character, especially when he is not able to defend himself. But…I do not feel that he has the right intention. His actions betray his words, Robin.”

You looked away, frown deep. “Yeah.”

He felt that he said something wrong in that moment, finding a twist in his heart when he saw the hurt in your eyes.

“I did not mean to upset you. I just…I have seen this behavior before. There are many who would find ways to get close to the nobility to enrich themselves. Many friendships and relationships have been broken in the name of self preservation.”

“It makes sense.” You agreed, though you were still unable to really look at him. Frederick wanted to reach out, to hold your hand or put a comforting arm around your shoulders, or…anything to alleviate that pain.

“I’m sorry. And if it is any consolation, I may not be correct- if you speak with him again, perhaps he will tell you his true motives or-”

“No, I don’t think so.” You shook your head, “He does push me away when he gets a chance to get close to one of the Shepherds he wants to speak to. And he’ll forget me in a conversation to focus on others. I went along with it for a while because I didn’t want to deal with the fallout, I guess. But the fact remains that he’s…definitely not with me for me.”

Frederick sighed softly, finding the confidence to at least put a hand on your shoulder. You leaned into his touch, still distraught, but welcoming of his comfort, at least.

“I’m sorry, Robin. I hope that by telling you these things, it does help you more than harm you.”

“Thanks, Freddybear.” You smiled softly, even if he did roll his eyes. “It’s always comforting to know you’re looking out for me. I value your opinion greatly, even if it doesn’t seem like it, sometimes.”

“Most of the time.”

“Perhaps, yes.” You laughed, if only for a few sweet seconds. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, staring out at the moonlit flowers. “Well…I suppose I ought to get it over with sooner rather than later, right?”

“It doesn’t have to be tonight. You’ve dealt with enough stress as it is. Some rest may do you quite well.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” You agreed, but the conversation had to pause suddenly when the sound of hurriedly crunched leaves reached your ears.

You both turned to find Chrom all but rushing through the thicket into the valley with you, and he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the two of you.

“Thank the gods, you’re both here. Robin, are you aware that your, er, partner is waiting outside my tent?” 

You shared a look with Frederick. “No, I wasn’t. Why is he…?”

“I don’t know. I was dozing off one moment, and the next he was standing at the entrance asking if I’d like to discuss politics and strategy and whatever else- I-I don’t even know what, but I just laid there and stayed silent for fifteen minutes, and he still wouldn’t leave!”

“Ah.” You shook your head,  earning a sympathetic look from Frederick. “I’ll go have a word with him, and after that, hopefully you won’t have to worry about dealing with his antics ever again.”

“Sounds good.” Chrom’s shoulders dropped with relief, “If it’s all the same, do you mind if I stay here a little while, Frederick? I snuck out the back of the tent and I don’t plan on going back if he’s still going to hover at the entrance for a while. The man is…creepily determined.”

“Understood, milord.” Frederick rose to his feet, offering his hand to help you up as well. 

You nodded to both of them, “I’ll go handle this right now. If I don’t come back, it’s because I’ve collapsed in my tent out of sheer exhaustion.” 

“Please let me know if you need anything, Robin.” Frederick said, his hand still lingering in yours. “Oh, and…if I may…”

“Yes?”

“I want you to know that I would never take you for granted, or use you for my own ends. I respect you, and value you too deeply to ever allow that to happen.”

“O-oh…um…” You blushed, stunned by the sudden admission. Your hand slipped away to nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “Well, thank you, Frederick. That means a lot.”

You lingered only a moment longer before you headed off to complete your less than enjoyable task, leaving the two men to watch after you in the dark.

Chrom glanced over at the knight, who seemed keen not to lose sight of you.

“That wasn’t exactly subtle, Frederick.”

“I am aware.”

“What happened to playing the long game?”

“There is no game to be played, milord.” Frederick smiled softly, “It is only my wish to seize this opportunity, to become closer with Robin now that it has presented itself.”

“I wish you luck, my friend. Though I doubt you’ll need it- she does tend to have a strange taste in men. You ought to be courting her in no time.”

“Milord, please.”

[sueske]

you're not that fond of minakushi? OMG ME NEITHER!!! i can't believe someone else actually agrees with me on that too. personally i don't like it cuz i think their love story is lame and they're not good parents to naruto. minato is worse for obvious reasons but my unpopular opinion is i think kushina isn't a great parent either. when she's talking to baby naruto she's mentioning all the things they she wants him to know of, and she mentions girls 😭 like lady he isn't even 5 minutes old!! and she says this world is made of men and women and you'll eventually notice girls...but knowing he did NOT notice girls 🤭 just makes me wonder how she'd react to him being in love with sasuke. and i don't think she'd react positively. (another unpopular opinion) even before that scene she was talking really traditionally and i feel like she'd also put expectations on naruto and want him to behave exactly as she wants him to and she won't accept anything else. i feel like she'd be just as bad as everyone else who puts expectations on him already. and his story with sasuke would end in tragedy even if his parents were alive, bc the way she was talking only about girls as if there's no other option...yeah she's definitely one of THOSE parents. another thing i don't like is when she said everything and minato didn't bc she's the mOtHer and kishi has every woman's entire personality bc a mother and a wife but that's the narrative writing, not her. he even made her give up her dream of becoming the first female hokage 😭 cuz women sacrificing their dreams for dumbass kids is fine bc their dreams obviously aren't as important as men's 🙄 anyway ppl always make her and minato the "good parents" in sns fics and make sasuke's parents to be the "bad" ones as if little miss red hot jalapeno wasn't the one talking to naruto about girls only 🤨 i need then to lay off on sasuke's parents fr...i feel like the only reason they might disapprove is bc they're really traditional and want to uphold their family name...but they clearly don't have any specific expectations for sasuke, if fugaku telling sasuke to walk his own path, a different path from his brother itachi, is anything to go by. so we not only have evidence that kushina would most likely not approve of naruto being gay but we also know sasuke's parents are more accepting of him being different. case closed. this is similar to when in fics they make naruto the nice kind angel and sasuke the jerk for no reason 😭 they truly think sasuke and his family are just jerks naturally and naruto and his family are sweet and accepting, just bc they're louder and more extroverted...it's like how ppl treat introverts irl, they think we hate ppl and are rude for no reason. anyway that got kinda off topic but yeah that's why i don't personally like minakushi. i feel like most ppl just have a bias towards them bc they're naruto's parents and everyone has a soft spot for the MCs parents. especially if they're dead and the Mc never got to be with them. what's your reason?

…okay I don’t like minakushi cuz I don’t like minato lol. the one shot also left me 😐 I’ve also complained about kushina giving up her dream of becoming hokage to become the hokage’s wife instead before but that doesn’t make me hate her or anything. I don’t hold kushina’s last words to baby naruto against her either, she was trying to cover what she considered to be major topics before she died. to make up for lost time, to make up for the fact she wouldn’t be there to see naruto grow up and offer her advice and opinions then. I’ve also answered how I think sns’ families might react to a relationship here. I do think kushina would be the type of mom to be really involved in her son’s life and make her opinions and what she thinks he should do known.

[leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad]

hi! i’m drunk, and i love one piece so much. here’s everything i love about the straw hats (that i can think of right now):

luffy is so incredibly loyal. once he decides you’re worth something, he’ll never change his mind, no matter what. even when nami stole everything he owned (except his hat) and told his crew she wanted nothing to do with them, he didn’t care. she was his friend, his crew, his nakama. he loves her, and he fought for her without even knowing why. that’s what gets me the most; he had no idea why she wanted arlong dead. he didn’t know why law wanted doflamingo dead or why robin was on the run. it didn’t matter. he loved them, and he fought for them. he put his hat, his treasure, on nami’s head and fought for her without knowing why.

zoro is strong but not just physically or even mentally. he doesn’t show it as openly as luffy, but he loves his crew. he made luffy promise that they wouldn’t get in the way of each other’s dreams, but he would gladly die for any member of the crew, even sanji. remember when he took luffy’s pain on thriller bark and refused to let sanji get in the way? zoro is luffy’s first mate, his right hand man. he understands his captain better than anyone else on the crew, and there is nothing more important to zoro than his principles. he doesn’t like to show it, but the crew means everything to him.

usopp is brave. my dad told me when i was a kid that bravery isn’t having no fear, it’s doing what you need to do despite your fear. usopp is braver than the monster trio in this way; he’s so afraid all the time, yet he keeps going. he fights and he lies and he protects his crewmates, and the whole time he’s shaking in fear, but he does it. his dream is to be a brave warrior of the sea, but he doesn’t realize that he already is one. he has been since he lied to those kids on syrup and decided to fight kuro to protect his village and kaya. he’s so, so brave, and he doesn’t even know it.

sanji is so kind. i’m so inspired by his belief in one simple thing: no one should ever have to starve. it doesn’t matter if he hates them, if he wishes they were dead, anything. all that matters is that they’re hungry. now that we know his backstory, we can see why he treats women and men so differently. everything is exaggerated in one piece, but as someone with an abusive father and a loving mother, i feel like i understand him so well. i too have treated women as better than me in my life because of my own trauma. i get it. i love him. out of all the strawhats, sanji is my favorite.

nami. where do i even begin with nami? i remember clearly the first time i watched one piece and how i cried a little at different flashbacks. but when it came to nami’s, i sobbed. i felt like a child who needed his mother, i felt my own heart break, i felt an overwhelming need to hold her and keep her safe. the way she acted at punk hazard, her inability to turn away from desperate children and her soft spot for female marines, made me fall in love with her all over again. nami acts selfish and uncaring, but she is so full of love that she can’t hide it. she reminds me of my own sister, the eldest who had the worst childhood out of my siblings. that strength born of trauma, that protectiveness for those younger than her, that adoration of loving parental figures. i just love her.

chopper is so determined to be good enough that he’ll turn himself into a monster just to make himself useful. sweet, innocent, loving chopper. his mentor/father was so brave and wonderful, so caring, and chopper learned everything from him. even doctorine was caring at her core, and chopper soaked it all up like the world’s most adorable sponge. he’s so cute. he’s beyond brave. his reaction to what was happening to those kids at punk hazard was so real and raw. he’s what a doctor should be—a bleeding heart, kind and caring to a fault. plus his “SOMEONE CALL A DOCTOR” running joke is so funny to me.

robin. again, where do i start? she’s so kind and friendly at heart. in a way, she can be very childish in how she thinks. cute. but she’s also dark, and i think she would have been that way even if ohara had survived. nothing will ever hurt me the way “I WANT TO LIVE” hurt me. whether watching it or reading it, i cry like a baby. all she ever wanted was a family, a home, and she found one when the strawhats declared war on the government to save her. she didn’t believe she was worthy of that love, but it didn’t matter because they loved her all the same. she betrayed and killed people to survive, and i respect her so much for coming through all of that with kindness still in her heart.

franky is a bit of a wild card to me. i hated him in the beginning, and it took me a while to get over what he did to usopp. but there’s something profound in what he went through for tom. he was ready to die, should have died to save his father, and he has no prejudice in his heart. i fully believe, out of all of the strawhats, franky would the most accepting of a queer bro. i also just love that he’s meant to be american and he’s pretty accurate lmao

brooke is another one that i don’t know how to describe. he’s been through so much grief, so much pain, and he uses his own misfortune to make his loved ones laugh. think about it. his “skull jokes” wouldn’t be possible if he wasn’t a skeleton, and he wouldn’t be a skeleton without the horrific events that led up to it. he turns his pain into humor to lighten the spirits of the those around him. there’s a strength in him that goes ignored too often. the man isn’t entirely sane, and i wouldn’t expect him to be. but he’s so full of love and joy, a true example of someone coming through trauma with love and kindness, making the best of a horrible situation.

i don’t know jinbei well enough to describe him, but i do know that he’s loyal and strong and extremely principled. he’s similar to nami and sanji in that way; there are lines he will not cross, but he knows how to make hard decisions for the good of the people he loves. out of all them, he seems the least “pirate” to me, in that i think he would be happier not being one at all if only the circumstances were different for fishmen. that’s all i can really say about him as someone who hasn’t finished wano (meaning maybe we get more characterization in chapters i haven’t read yet).

anyway, i love one piece and i love the strawhats, so here’s this.

[mithranqueersmusings]

Here There and Everywhere IV

Chapter: 4/?

Rating: U

Summary:  You’re a regular to The Cavern and you’ve always loved watching The Beatles play, even if you do have to deal with sweaty crowds, screaming girls and pervy guys. One day under rather unfortunate circumstances, you finally get to meet them which eventually, and oddly, leads to them living with you.

Tags: Domestic fluff, slow burn, eventual smut/romance

Pairings: George Harrison/Reader

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The four boys and yourself were introduced to a bleak, grey morning as you stepped out of the house. Murmurs of activity could be heard and spotted down the street, with men hurrying off to work with briefcases in hand and women chattering with their neighbours with a warm cup of tea clutched in their grasp. You found yourself naturally gravitating towards George as the five of you walked towards the main road, but worries started to form about how obvious your affection might be. Always inclining a little too much towards paranoia, you began to fear that failing to mask your appreciation of him - to put it mildly - would not only push the rest of the group away but could even make George uncomfortable. Whenever you joined your friends at The Cavern, each girl made no secret of who her favourite of the four was; you could recall, rather embarrassingly now, how each of you would fantasise about being with their respective choice. From the very beginning, George had drawn your eye. Maybe it was because he was the youngest and closest to your own age, but it was certainly much more than that. As a quiet person yourself, there seemed to be an immediate connection with the brooding boy at the back of the stage, with dark eyebrows knitted close together as he played along with the rest. So many girls were enamoured by the brightness of Paul's eyes or the strength of John's features, but you were almost always watching George. Considering how much time had been spent daydreaming about even having a conversation with the mysterious guitarist, it was so peculiar now that you were walking right beside him as though you were merely friends. You knew it would take some time to readdress the power imbalance in your mind, essentially shifting from idolising an essential stranger to welcoming him into your home. Evidently, it was obvious that you were lost in your thoughts because John span around from his conversation with Ringo to question you blatantly.

"Not having doubts, are we?" He grinned, his hair still ruffled from the night before. 

You were caught off guard, but this surprise soon melted away into a genuine smile "Unlikely." You retorted, raising your eyebrow, "Unless there's something you're not telling me?"

"Many, many things." John's grin widened "I'd much rather you found out yourself, though." 

Ringo gave John a soft nudge, knocking him slightly into the road "Can you stop ruining our chances of sleeping under a decent roof for a few minutes?"

"You act as though we're uncivilised beasts." Paul chimed in, standing at the head of the group to guide the way.

"Not at all! I just act like an uncivilised beast." John's good humour seemed to be unshakable, causing you to laugh quietly as you watched his charade "Not that you seem to mind, Paulie." 

George let out a soft groan, rolling his eyes "Keep it in your trousers, John, it's not even midday yet."

Watching them bounce off of one another effortlessly filled you with a sense of complete ease. Even though John was clearly the most unhinged of the group, there was no doubt in your mind that he merely wanted to make the others laugh. As if on cue, John slinked closer to George following his comment, walking backwards as though it took no effort at all. 

"That's funny, I don't recall you saying that last night after your little bathroom incident." John teased, from the brightness of his eyes, it was clear he was trying to push George's buttons, you only wished that you weren't caught in the crossfire.

"How did you-" George began, his face scrunching up in frustration.

"Thin walls, my friend." John winked, turning his gaze to you with a playful expression "Awfully convenient that he walked in at that exact moment, don't you think?"

A knot in your stomach threatened to form with these words, building off of your fear that the intentions of these seemingly innocent musicians were far more sinister than you dared to consider. Yet, you fought back against this urge, reminding yourself of how genuinely apologetic George had been alongside how eager he had been to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation by putting himself in the same position. 

"I do think that you might be projecting a little." You winked back at him "Just keep those thin walls in mind when you're shacking up with Paul, yeah?"

John's face dropped for a moment before an even broader smile replaced his fleeting sorrow. He bowed down dramatically as though submitting to your retort. Ringo was laughing heartily while Paul tried to maintain a composed expression so as not to commit entirely to either side of the dispute. Feeling rather proud of yourself, you turned to smile over at George, who was looking right back at you. The intensity of his gaze made your sense of elation falter for a second, but you tried desperately to hide this from your expression. George's thin lips curled upwards, only just exposing the bottom of his sharp canines, and you were instantly at ease. It wasn't too long before you'd arrived at the strange establishment that the boys had been calling home for the time being. Even before you went inside, you almost knew what to expect. The walls were dull and hostile, as though the entire structure was built out of concrete. There seemed to be no indication that anyone was living here, perhaps other than the smell. Tentatively, you followed Paul inside to an even more depressing interior.

"Remind me who blackmailed you into living here." You mumbled, almost to yourself, as a key was produced to unlock the door to a minuscule living space.

"I wouldn't go as far as blackmailed, but it was John's idea." Ringo chuckled as you all crammed into the tiny room.

Thinking back on John's comment that the four of them lived in a cupboard, you realised that even that was an optimistic outlook. Four battered mattresses were crammed into each of the corners, with belongings strewn about as though an earthquake had just occurred. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of it, and you genuinely started to question whether this was some sort of practical joke. Like clockwork, each of the boys started to gather their belongings haphazardly into any sort of container they could find. Whilst you never thought of yourself as a particularly clean or orderly person, watching clothes and books getting shoved mercilessly into bags already bursting at the seams caused a noticeable amount of discomfort.

"You've seriously been sleeping in here?" You asked in utter disbelief, cautiously taking a seat on the mattress with the least amount of stains.

"The glamorous life of rock'n'roll." Paul laughed as he took a seat next to you "It's not that bad, honestly. By the time we finish a show, we're so knackered that we all basically pass out."

"The drink helps, of course." Ringo added as he rummaged through a pile of clothes.

"But... I thought you guys grew up around here. Why don't you just live at home?" You were desperate for answers, not being able to logically put together a reason for willingly staying in a place as dreary as this.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" John blurted out, currently using his foot to flatten the contents of his bag so that he could shove even more inside "You're not going to get much life experience cooped up with your rents, are you?"

"Oh sure, lot's of life experience." You feigned agreement "Maybe even as much as the diseases you'll catch, I reckon."

"She's got you there, John." George spoke up, previously being very quiet as he gathered his meagre belongings together, and John responded with a childish sticking out of the tongue.

"Come on, now we've got a chance of getting out of here, you all suddenly despite it?" John scoffed "You know that we wouldn't have been able to get up to half the stupid shit we've been doing if we had to go home every night."

John looked around the room with an inquisitive glare, stumping George, Paul, and Ringo from saying anything in disagreement. You immediately wanted to ask exactly what sort of things they had been getting up to in such a cramped space, but part of you didn't really want to know the answer. If anything, the magazines that had been quickly hidden before you'd gotten a chance to even read the cover gave you a small indication of what John meant. There were also some empty bottles messily dotted about the room, making it clear that heavy drinking was a favoured pastime.

"Should I expect this 'stupid shit' to continue under my roof, then?" You posed the question to all of them, not just John, hoping to get a vague idea of exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Paul answered instantaneously, not even giving John the chance to get a breath out "We'll be nothing but respectful, I think you'll find. That isn't to say we won't get a little boisterous now and again, but we're certainly not going to put you out."

"Unless you want us to, of course." Ringo caught you by surprise as he playfully mussed up your hair as he walked past, trying to gather the last bits and pieces that had been left out.

"I'm in no rush to start acting like a mother or a landlady." You spoke with clarity and confidence "Don't think of me as some uptight matron, alright? If anything, I'm drawn more towards stupid shit than I am the mundane life I've been living as of late."

"Now you're talking." George chuckled, triumphantly throwing a bag over his shoulder.

"Careful now, don't say something you might regret." Paul warned with a smile, following George's lead and gathering all the bags together.

"I think she's perfectly capable of saying exactly what she means, thank you!" John was clearly growing more and more excited "I think this momentous occasion calls for a bit of celebration, don't you?"

John met your gaze with a twinkle in his eye, and there seemed to be nothing you could do to stop the waves of laughter pouring out. Even though you knew deep down that you were getting yourself into something bizarre and somewhat taboo, it was clear that it was likely one of the best decisions you'd ever made. Exactly how you were going to explain to anyone why a band of wayward musicians had started occupying your childhood home, you didn't know, but a large part of you didn't care in the slightest. Being in the orbit of these lively young men made you feel more content and genuinely excited about life than ever before, so there was no way you were going to spoil it by thinking too much or considering all the potential downsides. Instead, you urged yourself to merely go with the flow and see where it took you. If George was going to be along for the ride, you couldn't think of anywhere else you'd rather be. Although no words were exchanged, you got the impression that John knew exactly what you were thinking because the mischievous look spread across his angular face only intensified.

"Considering our accommodation has already been provided, seems only fair that we take care of the rest, right lads?" Ringo posed the question more as a statement.

All three boys nodded in almost eerie unison, reminding you of one of the reasons you were so enraptured with them in the very place whenever watching them on stage. There was a moment of stillness after this, but it didn't last for long. John evidently could not keep his excitement contained for much longer as he rushed towards you without warning. Your eyes widened in confusion as you were lifted off of the floor and into his arms. Even though you had no idea what was going on, you couldn't stop yourself from giggling like a child. Ringo wasn't far behind, spinning his keys around his finger in preparation for piling into his car. Paul and George disgruntledly carried the bags with full arms and bulking shoulders, murmuring about John's exceptional talent of avoiding responsibility. Your captor mirrored your laughter, kicking doors open as you made your way back onto the street. Despite his erratic nature, you felt undisputedly safe in his company, and you almost hoped that he'd carry you all the way home like this. Yet, before long, he had to set you back onto the ground while the heaving bags were thrown into the boot of Ringo's car. Being unable to drive yourself, it was hard not to be excited about everything this vehicle opened to you. While your subconscious tried eagerly to manufacture reasons that you should be feeling incredibly nervous about this whole ordeal, you overwrote them with genuine excitement about the shenanigans you would all be getting up to.

"Nice car." Was all you managed to articulate from this array of thoughts.

"And for that, you can ride up front with me." Ringo opened the door for you chivalrously, to which you responded with an equally exaggerated courtesy.

"Watch out, he uses that line on all the birds." George almost made you jump with his silent approach, but he ducked into the car before you could even respond.

"Steady on, George. It's not like he's asking her to handle his stick shift." Paul teased, nudging George further into the car so that he could sit by the window.

You tried to stop your cheeks from blushing, but there was little you could do. Instead, you busied yourself with the seatbelt while the boys continued to mess about in the back. It reminded you a lot of being back at school, excluding the depressing authoritative regime and the need to remember useless facts, as the lightness of their dynamic was so contagious that you felt as though there was nothing to worry about. The only thing that made your stomach flip, however minimally, was the effect George's eyes seemed to have on you, even if they were caught momentarily in the rearview mirror. John was demonstrably going to be a handful, but nothing you couldn't manage. Ringo and Paul were both more level-headed and considerate, so you knew there'd be no problems there. George, on the other hand, seemed unpredictable in a way completely different from John. You knew how likely it was that things would get messy, but the possible benefits of being able to spend time with these boys far outweighed any issues you could foresee in the not-too-distant future. For the time being, you were going to enjoy yourself. Ringo gave you a reassuring smirk before you drove off, and you pushed yourself to remain in this state of relaxation.

"Not heading straight home, are we?" John queried, slotting his head in between the two seats.

"Where did you have in mind?" Ringo responded, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

"I do recall someone saying something about a celebration." John giggled "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's not much of a celebration without a drink or two."

"Really? I recall that certain someone being you, if my memory doesn't fail me." Paul tried to pull John back into his seat to no avail.

"Come on." John pleaded "If anything, look at it as a test. We'll get so railed that we show what absolute twats we really are. Then, if it’s not to your liking, we'll be off in the morning."

"Don't think you need a drop of alcohol to make that clear, John." George poked, his sharp teeth teasingly showing.

"Har har." John rolled his eyes "It'll be a laugh, alright? I'll cover the costs if I bleeding have to."

"That'll be the day." Ringo didn't even hesitate but quickly softened the blow "It would be fun, though. Get it all out in the open so we're not keeping up appearances for the sake of it."

"And what if I absolutely embarrass myself, what then?" You asked, half joking.

"Then we know we've found a kindred spirit." John's smile widened once again, only now being satisfied enough to sit back in his seat.

Ringo drove past the turning for your house, continuing on to the nearest shop to pick up a few bottles of whatever poison John had in mind. A bubbling of nerves started to form deep in your stomach, but it was hard to decipher whether it was actual panic or just pure excitement. It had been a long time since you'd completely let loose in the comfort of your own home, and part of you worried about what might slip out. At that very moment, you were surrounded by four of the most charismatic and attractive boys who had bothered to give you the time of day; it was simply too good to be true. There was no way something catastrophic wasn't waiting up ahead to rip it all from you. Even so, there was no denying that there was fun to be had before this inevitable disaster. If that was the case, you were determined to make the most of it while it lasted, even if it meant overstepping a boundary or two. Cautiously, you watched George in the rearview mirror, moving your gaze away whenever you thought he might catch you staring. With so much mystery surrounding him, you couldn't help feeling anticipation about what a generous helping of alcohol might do to his demeanour. Considering how things had gone the night before, there was a chance that something spectacular might happen. All you had to do was play your cards right, whatever that meant in a strange situation such as this. It would help if you even knew what cards you were holding in the first place, let alone what to do with them.