#not dropping names and ofc I think you can dislike things. you can dislike the finale bc it was so rushed. it literally HAD to be rushed

[seiko-yume]

I LOVED the owl house finale, ok. I know everyone was working under limited time and had to roll with what they had to wrap this all up. I had more questions than the episode prior, but it doesn’t matter. There are things in life we will never have the answer to, and it’s better to be content with the unknown than to die trying to find the answer to it. I dont even care that my sexyman died cause I got to see my son (The Collector) again. Also wtf King’s dad is Sans Undertale???? I just know everyone’s simping over The Titan.

[jolalibrary]

take my picture

francisco "frankie" morales x ofc!reader | collection masterlist

summary: you find a polaroid camera, and offer to let frankie take photos.

chapter kink: photo exhibitionism. warnings: smut. frankie takes polaroids of you (consenting). oral (m!receiving). bit of cock praise. fingering. lots of sexy photos. underwear to the side. fuck bud things aka two fools who won't talk. frankie is a sleepy boy (not a warning, just stating facts now). blue has a name and job/likes/dislikes. no physical descriptions. wordcount: 3.9k. an: thanks to @pedgito for beta'ing. dedicated to @luxurychristmaspudding because i haunted her with this, she told me to write it, and i told her only if i could gift it to her. i love you bby. one day we hug, yes?

You’ve only been awake for an hour when he lets you know he’s here.

The clock on your kitchen wall tells you it’s midday, though the light outside seems to have forgotten. Everything is muted, as if the sun has forgotten to rise fully, the sky from your kitchen a blanket of dull grey, casting shadows over everything. You can sense the hum of activity—the muffled clatter of life moving above you, or people in the hallway.

Then, in a hundred and forty-six seconds—that’s all it takes—his knuckles tap softly on your door before he’s twisting the handle.

The coffee you’d only half-finished is swirling down the sink, and you’d just manage to fluff the cushions on your two-piece sofa when your eyes meet his. You worry, briefly, that the signs of your night shifts are as obvious on your face, as they are in your home. Little traces of exhaustion are scattered around—the shoes kicked off near the basket of unworn pairs, your jacket draped over the armchair, and your bag lying on its side, carelessly dropped and forgotten.

When he steps through, it appears as though he’s blind to it all. The usual duffel swings down from his shoulder, but this time he’s an accompanying pair of bags under his eyes—a tiredness that doesn’t filter away even when he smiles. There’s a tightness in his face, a 4 o’clock shadow you trace with your eyes that’s beginning to darken his jawline.

The greeting is gentler this time. Softer kisses, his fingers skating along your jaw, thumb resting on your chin, as his mouth slants over yours. Your lashes flutter closed as you tug him closer, pulling him in, melting into him before his face finds the curve of your neck. The duffel drops with a thump as both his arms cage you.

He breathes in, right against your neck, before he grazes unspoken words against your skin as your fingers massage the top of his neck, feeling the tightness, hearing how he lowly groans into your skin.

“You slept, captain?”

“Hmm,” he hums as his mouth presses slow, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.

Ones you almost bow towards, lean into, let happen.

“Frankie.” Fingers sliding around his cheeks, lifting him, forcing his eyes to wander over yours. “Have you slept since you’ve been back? Preferably in the last day or two?”

Scratching the back of his head, temporarily averting his eyes as his nostrils flare, he eventually spits out, “Here and there.”

Tilting your head, sighing. Something there, unspoken. An explanation, one that would weave a thread between the two of you, a deepness you’re not sure either of you is willing to surrender to.

You’d sensed something was simmering beneath the surface when he told you he was back. The timing of his return and your string of night shifts had become an enemy to you both, keeping you apart, forcing him to go home and make excuses instead of—what you suspected was his usual—lying and saying he was back later than he was. The benefit of this was that the two of you rarely had the chance to converse as much as you have in the past few days—conversations broken up by your erratic sleep schedule and shifting time zones. Still, it had felt strange to find him keeping you company as you tried to eat leftover lasagne at three in the morning.

Thinking you like texting me too much.

What makes you say that?

You’ve responded within seconds, Morales.

You don’t admit you like texting him. That it’s nice, almost normal in the grand schemes of whatever this thing is. This thing where you text him and wait for a response, giddy when you see his name flash up; this thing where you count down, in your head only, to the day you think he’ll be home.

For sex, you remind yourself. Just sex—and food.

“Here or there less than three hours a day or…”

He glares, but smothers it quickly, jaw tightening as he keeps his hands in place.

“Bed, now.” His brow arches at your words, lips rolling as he stares. “Alone.”

“Blue… c’mon.”

“The plans we have require you to be awake for the duration, not somewhere between snoozing and existing. Just go, I don’t know, sleep for an hour or two in my bed.”

His brow raises again, remaining there, hovering over his brown eye. “In your bed.”

“Yeah, my bed.” Folding your arms, letting your lips slide into your cheek. “Don’t be difficult and argue with me. I’ve done four back-to-back night shifts.”

He snorts, eyes slightly wider than usual—as though acknowledging it, how you’ve overshared, how there’s a bit of you amongst the other parts.

“Look, I can study—I’ve got another nursing exam thing coming up and you can sleep, and then when you wake up, we can…”

Dragging his eyes up and down you, you try to remain tall, strong. Not giving in as you feel your skin warm under his gaze; not crack under the way he lingers on your legs, on your arms crossed just under your chest.

“Nurse, huh.”

“Go.”

“Fuck, alright.”

Smiling, watching him move to grab his bag, you begin biting the inside of your cheek, gnawing at it. “Hey,” you say, watching his eyes flick up, staring through his brows as he remains hinged, “Am I eating for one tomorrow night or?”

Softly, he begins to smile. Likely remembering the texts—the odd few the two of you have managed to send between whatever he does and your work.

It rises, the smirk kissing his eyes at the same time as the dimple appears on his cheek when he straightens up, sweats in hand as he takes a step closer. “Was thinking about you not eating alone for another night after that, if you still wanted?”

Swaying on the spot, you mirror his smirk. “You’re buying.”

Then he’s kissing you, fingers sliding around the back of your head, cupping it, as he smothers a reply to your mouth, a murmur of being back soon as he swats at your ass.

You don’t stop smiling for several minutes after your bedroom door closes.

Frankie wakes around the time you’ve grown sick of diagrams, words and note-making.

When your pastel highlighters are suddenly not as cute and the clear post-its are not as innovative as you first thought. When you’re distracting yourself with making a coffee, struggling to adjust to the fact it’s almost evening when in fact for you it’s more midday.

You’re barely three sips into your drink when he takes it, dwarfing your cup with his paw as his sip is larger than yours.

“Oh, help yourself, Morales.”

Smirking, he takes another small sip before handing it back. “Fuck, somehow forgot how pretty you are.”

You hum, placing the cup down, it clinking against the counter before he slides his arms around you. Instinctive, that’s how you’d describe it, your nails scraping against the base of his neck, the edge of your counter digging in as he presses his body flush against yours.

“Been thinking about you.”

“Memories of me serving you well, Morales.”

He groans as you kiss him, as you pull his mouth to yours—feeling how warm his mouth is, how there’s the slightest taste of mint.

“Poor Frankie, having to use his mind to jerk off in the desert or forest or… wherever you get sent to.”

Snorting, he grabs a handful of your ass, making your mouth open in a gasp before he smothers it with his lips. Kneading it, making your hips meet his. Your hand reaches for the side, knocking into it—the unboxed surprise that just catches his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“Well,” you say, picking it up, and turning it over in your hand. “It's a Polaroid camera.”

“I can see that.”

“Thought you might have grown tired of your imagination. Thought maybe I could give you a gift—especially when you left me with one of your shirts.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Smirking, you press the button—a flash illuminating, making him hiss a swear under his breath as the machine conjures and spits out the image.

“We can call it even then—what I’ve thought up.”

Fingers rubbing his eyes, one trying to crack open. “What’s that then?”

“You can say no.”

“Something I’ve yet to do with you but go on.”

Smiling, a flutter of nerves rumbling through you as you swallow. “Thought you could… take some souvenirs with you. For you. Your eyes only kinda thing.”

His brows furrow, flicking his gaze to the camera and back again before he’s biting his cheek. It dawns slowly, slipping over his face as his eyes darken, as he catches on to the nature of your suggestion.

Continuing, you meet his gaze. “You can pick how you want me, can shoot as many as you like—but you only get to take three with you.”

“Just three?”

Nodding, biting your lip. “I almost said one, but thought you’d like a mix—especially since you were gone longer this time.”

“You want me to have dirty photos of you, Blue.”

Smiling, nose brushing against the tip of his, “I’m just doing my bit, captain.”

The last word is punctuated by the way you hook a finger in your shorts and let them slide down to your ankles. Empowered, confident, even as a chill rushes over you and your skin goosebumps.

The way he stares, makes you wonder how you’ve ever settled for anything less than the lust in his eyes. An easy explanation for why you wait, because there can’t be anything better, right? The way he tilts his head slightly and runs his hand against his jaw as your clothes fall in soft thuds to your floor until you’re stood in nothing but a pair of panties.

Ones chosen, all intentionally picked. Selected.

All set to remove them when his hands stop you. When his rough hands slide over them and press your palms to the counter, mouth slanting over yours, softly but hungrily. The kind of kiss that would make your knees go if not for his frame pressing on you, his grip on your hands tightening as you bite at his lower lip.

“How do you want me?”

The tip of his nose brushes yours, eyes closed, before he breathlessly whispers, “On your knees.”

You smile, ghosting it over his. “Help me down then, baby.”

It slips out, slithers. The name he calls you, that you now call him.

His fingers slot between yours, gripping them tight as he helps you lower yourself to the ground—to the cold tiles of your kitchen as you stare up at him. Left only in a pair of lace panties you’re grateful you’d thrown on before.

“Can I taste you, captain?”

“Fuck—yeah. Sure.”

He’s already hard when you’re pulling him free—thick, twitching. The tip already glistening as you glide the fabric down, teasingly, watching the head of his cock meet the base of his stomach.

“Your cock is so perfect.”

Your hand wraps around it, smearing the bead of precum, smirking at the hiss you make him emit, lifting onto your knees as you begin to work him, his soft stomach shifting as he breathes deeply.

“Can’t wait to taste you, Frankie—”

“—Li—”

You make him choke on your name when your mouth wraps around him. The tip at first, tongue swirling around, savouring the tangy taste of him—until you take more of him. And more. Doing so until your eyes prick with tears and you feel annoyed that you’re not at the base.

But, it’s fleeting, passing. His moan makes it worth it.

From the weight of him on your tongue to the taste of him, it’s all worth it. You lick around the head and flick your eyes up to see his stare already trained on you, the muscles in his legs twitching under your palms, gliding your tongue—all flat—on the underside of him, smearing the tip along your lips as though its gloss.

If you didn’t know what he did for a job, you’d tell him with that glare he’d be good at it.

Especially when you take him deeper, hearing the reward of a hiss, of your name—all elongated and breathy. Tears prick and spill over as your nose meets the thick curls at the base of him, feeling him twitch, pulse—all thick and fucking divine in your throat before you’re forced to slide back up. Your cheeks hollowed, eyes flicking up to see his mouth parted in surprise, chest heaving.

You smirk, with difficulty. The thickness of him makes it challenging as you swirl your tongue around the tip and feel his fingers sliding under your chin.

And you want to touch yourself.

Smudge the mess between your thighs around your aching clit, dip two fingers into your heat—

“Too good to me, Blue.”

His praise and the sight of him in the low light, the evening bathing your room, making the perspiration on his chest glitter. It’s then you notice the camera in hand—dwarfed almost, by the size of his palm.

He’s holding it like a gesture, like a silent ask of permission. One you give. A nod, a slow blink, and you spot the surprise sewn into his brows. A look vanished a moment later as you take him to the base, nails digging into the back of his thighs as you plead for yourself not to choke again.

You don’t.

Not even when he gently rolls his hips to your movements,

“Need to take a picture, Blue. Need it.”

You hum, nose against the curls at the base of him, almost feverish with how much you want him. Desperate, agitated with it.

So you flick your eyes up, swallowing—a flurry of curses leaving his lips.

Click, flash—

—Click, flash.

It illuminates you. The bright light makes your eyes widen, forcing them to, filling them with surprise. It’s barely a second, but he steals what the glare provides in the thickening darkness as the clock ticks on.

He doesn’t need the photo to develop, he’s sure the image will be burned into his brain for a lifetime. You with your mouth full of him, cheeks hollowed around his spit-soaked cock as it dribbles down your chin and wets his palm.

There are stains on your cheeks—tears. One's from taking him so deep earlier, when he’d felt the need to remind you to be slow. He caught a glimpse of your glare then, but there’s no sign of it now. Your eyes are all glassy, completely fucked out. Knelt before him in nothing but the thinnest pair of panties, likely soaked, ruined. All for him.

All. For. Him.

Then the room dims again, the photo ejecting out of the camera as it begins to bloom and paint the scene, forever immortalised, and he has to stop himself from clicking the button again just to see you in that light.

You hum as though thinking it. So he snaps another, and another. Each flash creates a different scene, one with your eyes closed—your wet lashes against your cheek. The next you smirking, fingers around the base and your tongue licking at his slit—eyes burning into the camera lens.

You loosen up the more he takes, performing, kneeling up as your hand moves to cup his balls, to gently, ever so carefully roll them as you lick another stripe up the underside of his cock.

He hisses in curses, ones barely bitten back.

It takes all of his restraint not to come down your pretty little throat the next time you take him down it. Because you’re beautiful, but this is something else. An enigma, a gift, a heavenly being that is here for him, taking as much of him as you can.

Bobbing and sucking, little moans and mews around him as you do so. It’s all too much, his eyes clenching shut, feeling, just feeling, and feeling—

It feels like something should have ripped, as though the universe has pulled apart, but he knows it’s in his head. It rushes through him so quickly, splintering and knocking him off base as his elbow awkwardly collides with the dresser before he’s gripping it with all he has, panting through his nose, hips meeting your movements.

And then his hips buck, cock twitching on your tongue.

Then, he’s coming hard down your throat. From the top of his head to his toes, his muscles clench, tighten. Body roaring, licked with flames, his cock twitching as you lick up every drop, as he begins to tingle all over from it.

Whether it’s an intention, just for the camera in his hand or him alone, when your mouth slides from him, it hinges open. Waiting, hands falling to your lap. And he knows before he brightens you with the flash what he’s going to see. But, nothing compares when he glimpses it. Your pretty, perfect fucking mouth full of him.

It stirs in him. Hunger, agonising covetous to have you—to taste himself on your lips, tongue.

“Swallow, baby.”

And he hears it, in the thick silence that you do.

The photo hangs from the device as he plants it down, as he rests it and descends to his knees to meet you. Hand cupping the back of your head as he brings your mouth to his, as he licks into your mouth, as he groans at the way you open up to him and the suppleness of your skin.

Perfect, perfect, so fuckin’ perfect.

He whispers it to your lips, groans it against your jaw as he slides a hand between your legs, underwear moved to the side as the two of you moan in unison at first contact. You shifting, adjusting, knees spread as your ass meets your floor, palms pressed to the ground behind you, head tipping back, letting it escape—

“Please. Please, baby.”

It’s delicately said, all smooth, but encased and embroiled in damned desperation. Baby—he likes it when you say it, a thing he so rarely hears.

He rewards you for it by pressing two fingers inside you, finding you soak him to the knuckles. You tighten around him, the lewd sound of your pussy filling the air, and he swallows, transfixed—a slither of light is all he has. His attention fixed, thumb pressing to your clit as you arch into his hand, bearing down against it.

“Take it,” you moan, hips beginning to rock against him. “Take a picture, Frankie.”

He smirks, almost grins. Almost full of delirium that you exist, that you’ve chosen him, let him in, let him—

You whine his name, already so close. His free hand reaching, patting for it, knocking things over to the point you laugh—

“Break it all, Frankie. I don’t care, just need—”

“Shh,” he soothes, rubbing circles with his thumb, the other hand grasping the camera, pulling it with him as he adjusts his knees on the floor. “Got you, Blue. Always got you.”

I know, I know, I know.

A chant, a soundtrack to the way he curls his fingers until you’re pleading, sobbing.

Click, flash—

Fuck, you’re a mess. Wrecked, ruined. Underwear pulled to the side, black, maybe even ripped a little, with your back bowed and your face contorted—twisted in pleasure. He sees tear tracks on your cheeks from earlier, slick spread in the crease of your spread thighs. Your hips meet his movements, pressing his fingers down on the spongy spot that has you babbling—whining; thumb pressing against your swollen, puffy clit.

Let go, he thinks. Readying to say it, to plead. But then your hips jolt, your chin raising as your head falls back.

The sound of you when you come is one he’ll never grow tired of.

Least of all the taste of you when he slowly removes his fingers and licks them clean, his other thumb massaging your knee when you wince at the loss of him.

“Go get on your bed, Blue.”

You breathe, pant. “You bringing the camera?”

“If you want?”

He hears you exhale and almost feels your smirk even in the darkness.

By the time the two of you are done, there’s a sea of them—the Polaroids.

The sheets under the two of you are a mess, with little photographic evidence of the two of you scattered all around. A play-by-play of the last forty-five minutes.

His breath is caught, as is yours. The soft hue of your bedroom illuminated by the late afternoon filters in, shades of purple and deep oranges.

You’re resting against him, fitting under his arm—heart still beating, even through him as you try to catch your breath. It’s not like the last time, when you’d looked half-awake and rode him until he had to roll you over, it’s not like the time before when he’d watched soap suds slide down your spine, pussy swallowing his cock over and over as your cries echoed around the tiles. It’s soft, sweet, the moment the two of you are sharing. Fingers, splayed out, soft with nails trimmed, skate up and down his side, and it shouldn’t be a thing he thinks, never mind confessed.

But fuck is this perfect, you’re perfect.

Frankie fumbles for the camera, for the device forgotten amongst the sheets, leaving it there, resting. Waiting.

“So how many bedpans do you have—”

You swat at him first, the lightest laugh following, spreading out. So, he continues. Asking more oddities with a shake of your head, not breaking you, not earning more than a light giggle, until:

“You got a pair of scrubs around? I do like a woman in uniform.”

It bursts out of you then, a laugh—a real one—and he lifts the camera as your head rests on him. The click comes, the flash brighter than he remembers.

It’s snapped, taken—a laugh, yours, all but frozen in time.

Later, when the photo is developed and mixed in with a stack of others waiting to be chosen, he sees his own smile. It’s light, almost unfamiliar, given how long it’s been since he’s seen it.

That photo might be his favourite, but it isn’t one he keeps. He thinks it’s too soon for things like that.

[transmutationisms]

i would love to hear more about your criticisms of the BITE model! for me it always feels.. unfalsifiable? it seems to do poorly at distinguishing a cult from any other community, if you squint at the definitions

yeah so first of all i'm not particularly keen on even trying to defend the category of "cult" in general. obviously abuse and control methods can and do happen in groups, but i don't think it's particularly useful to talk about this like there's a strict dichotomy between evil malicious groups and all the others. and i think generally, when people do try to sort groups into strict categories like that, what you actually see is that the differentiating factor is less to do with the degree of control exerted by the group and more to do with how much the person doing the sorting is bothered by the group's ideology or doctrinal commitments lol. like, this is sort of baby's first cult concept critique but yknow, a group setting where you're being extremely openly financially controlled is your job and yet most workplaces, however abusive and surveilled and controlling, are not typically designated a 'cult' unless they're also peddling some kind of heterodox religious or medical claims or something.

anyway in regards to BITE in particular, yeah i think it does a really poor job of distinguishing between a 'normal' level of social pressure to say/do certain things, and the kind of control that ostensibly characterises a cult. for example steven hassan has called both MAGA and online trans communities cults, and a lot of this comes down to his persistent and pretty open belief in the power of 'mind control' and hypnosis as mechanisms of cult control. ofc any group of any political persuasion could engage in abuse and high-control of its members! usually this occurs by financial means, social isolation, etc. but hassan's BITE model isn't really good at identifying these kinds of material factors despite paying lip service to them, because it's more motivated by his desire to root out these kinds of shadowy quasi-occult forces of mental reprogramming that he fears.

i just find the whole model to be pretty silly and used mostly as a way of justifying dislike of lots of different social, religious, and political groups---some of which are genuinely mistreating members, some of which are just saying things their critics disagree with---because it's perceived as a reliable social-scientific designation and therefore name-dropping it helps the speaker feel that they're making some kind of objective scientific observation rather than a judgment dependent, as are all judgments, upon their own perspective and values. i think instead of this kind of haggling over Which Groups Count As An Evild Shadowy Cult it would be infinitely more productive and helpful to vulnerable people to talk about how high-control groups operate, what sorts of methods specific groups are using to control and abuse their members, and what sorts of resources those members are dependent on the groups for and need access to from other sources: financial and material provisions, social support networks, etc.

[lawva-girl]

Portrait Photography headcanons

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kid, Nami, Perona

total wc: 1600(ish)

Mainly fem reader, Its gender neutral in reality buuut i dislike the idea of men reading this.... (photography opinions let me know if you want to hear me yap about it)

Luffy:

•as soon as he finds out ur a photographer he begs to see your work, if it’s printed he’ll prob ask for a copy (i just see him as a collector!)

• won’t ask you to take pics of him but one day he’s messing around on the deck of the sunny and ussop brings out water balloons

• seeing him slightly wet, and running around with no shirt on… motivated you.

• you take a couple shots and look, immediately realizing you need to print some!

• the photos show off his physique, not too big but definitely toned. His hair is wet and sticks to his head a little, plus he has a small sunburn coming on, giving him a natural blush. He’s sporting a cocky smile that only comes on when he’s being competitive, and he looks handsome enough to kill.

• zoro is interested in the print (i know what you are zoro) buuut luffy wants nothing to do with pictures of himself.

Zoro:

•HATES being on camera

• he will always be sleeping in any shots you get of him. Unfortunate but it is what it is

• he thinks you look great while taking photos though, and will watch you watch others.

• he admires the focus you have, but also loves to test it. Calling your name when he sees you take your final action before the shot, scaring you when you are looking through your viewfinder, covering the lens of your camera… he’ll mess with you endlessly

• everytime you catch him, you of course get mad and he just laughs (bring back zoro laughing) and walks away from you.

• but to get back at him, you snap a few photos of his back as he walks away..

• and wow does that man have a back, the muscles are so toned and big that you can see each one clearly through his shirt, dabs of sweat rest on his neck, where his tanned skin looks like it is glowing. Thankfully you used the right exposure to capture the details in his arms as well, with tiny scars dotting his skin like freckles. He’s looking to the side, with a beer bottle in hand. It’s just enough that you can see his profile, but not his entire face. The bottle is straight up in the sky as liquid is held in place (in the photo) against his lips… it’s definitely a picture you would keep just for you.

• zoro discovers a print and slices it 20 ways before discarding it into the sea. He doesn’t realize that you have more copies, and digital back ups :)

Sanji:

•he would def object to you taking any photo of him, arguing that you should be photographed instead

• silly boy abt seeing his pics

• ofc would love and support you

• would ask to be taught how to take pictures good so he could take them of you instead

• but he wouldn’t mind seeing like action shots of himself cooking

• hed prob be like “this is how you see me Cherie?” Jaw dropped maybe

• I think he might get an ego about it if zoro was in the room….

• once again they would be action shots of him cooking, closeups on his hands cutting things or seasoning meat perchance..

• he’d always look focused and his cigarette smoke would reaaaally set the mood of the collection I think

• the final photo (of like the session of collection of them) would HAVE to be the final plating of the dish.

• side note sanji would absolutely relate to you, creating things is human nature and (if you were a photographer) he would relate to that soooo much, taking things that exist already and making them more beautiful or enhanced and possibly an experience is something he understands I think….

Law:

•BIGGEST HATER

•he would blush and shy away from the camera

• prob get angry as well

• he would always be behind you when the camera is out, like DEtermined to not be in any shots

• I think it comes from, perchance, a fear of being perceived? Like he feels like he doesn’t deserve to be around so he tries to avoid any proof of it maybe (pls kill me if you disagree)

• he would compliment your work very technically, for instance “you picked the perfect exposure for this shot” and whatnot

• I think he’d try to be objective about it all

• the vibe of photography for documentation rather than photography purely as an art form

• but I think he would show you the photos in his medical books, of like diseases and cells and bodies, and ask you what you thought

•kinda a means of learning about why you like photography, but also because it’s actually changing the way he thinks about even the most basic of pictures he sees

• obvi eventually you would sneak a couple of photos of him, while he would clean his figures or coins, whenever he was distracted pretty much

• the first time, you told him right away and asked if he wanted them to be deleted. But when he saw the faces you had captured his brain like clicked in place

• hed look focused, with a slight smile and soft ish eyes, his hair fell in the perfect way somehow and you truly thought he was the most handsome guy on the planet

• the photos would have an air of “crazy man surrounded by silly things” (pls ignore this if it sound crazy I have such a specific vision in my head)

• I think he wouldn’t react, at first, but later he’d look at them again and slowly understand how you saw him, and how it wasn’t a crime to just exist with the things and ppl he liked

Kid:

•he would force you to take pictures of him.

• like genuinely force… he would touch up his own makeup, pick out a wardrobe, give you notes on the vibe and lighting he wanted, it would be a full week of work

• I just know he isn’t shy in any way and would keep copies hanging on the wall, they came out great so you would keep a smaller version in your wallet (hehe)

• he would Not let you take all of the credit (def would tell people it was all his idea)

• I think he’d try to sell them somewhere, but the price would be too high and no one would buy them

• at the end of the day he cherished them so much bc it was an excuse to hang out with you and flirt and stuff, not that he would need an excuse to do it

• he also would love to see you working the camera and any lighting apparatus, reminding him of you drooling over him while he would work on his stuff

• now he gets to drool over you :D

Nami:

•the camera LOVES her

• in this fake world you took her bounty picture, and you and her made them into cards to sell (like you would for an idol or whatnot)

• she loves having intimate moments with you though, and those photos would NEVER see the outside of her room.

• they are kept under lock and key so none of the gross boys will see them, it’s just for you and Nami to love and appreciate eachother

• I think she would force you to let her take shots of you, with her being so beautiful it was easy for you to self deprecate, and she wanted to hear no more of it

• she would prove to you how beautiful you were, getting all the right angles and lighting

• seeing the pics she would take of you def would change ur mind about yourself, if Nami, BEAUTIFUL Nami could see you in that way how could you not?

• I think beyond that the two of you would take pics of the guys on the ship doing stupid stuff, like luffy hitting zoro on accident or something

• you two would share in those moments, glances, touches, laughter, you and Nami were meant to last

Perona:

•she would love taking pics of you, with you, and you taking pics of her? She would love every bit of it

• she would get annoyed if you invited anyone else to the two of y’all’s sessions, even if she knew it was just friendly

• I think she would get jealous if you took pictures of other people, turning into her whiny mode if you did

• she would strive to be your muse, wearing creative outfits and doing her hair and makeup in fun and pretty ways to catch your attention

• ofc it would work everytime, and you would go running to her

• Perona always looked amazing in pictures (and she would LOVE when you include her ghosts) so you always wanted to take pics of her

• I think the relationship between you two would grow a bit like artist obsessed and muse… I feel like she’s kinda crazy and would like lowkey manipulate you into it? But I mean I believe reader is smart enough to be aware of it but choose to play into it

• she would show off to zoro and mihawk, something something “I have a relationship and you two aren’t even close to getting one” followed by her cute ass laugh

(THANK YOU SO MUCH @head-empty-just-ace YOU SAVED ME)

[deathfavor]

@kisumshi said: ❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜ dorahan ofc

soft & sweet sentence starters

Hanma hadn't been able to stop the defensive sounding what? from leaving his lips when he saw Draken staring at him. Not that Hanma cared about being stared at. He didn't, and certainly not by Draken. But people didn't look at Hanma like that. It's hard for Hanma to name exactly what that look was despite the fact he knows that he knows the word for it. He knows how Draken looks at him for some things, and the hair down like he wears now usually provokes a few, but it's not any of the regular looks he's used to getting. It's disarming and he doesn't quite know what to do about it.

" No- I mean yes. Wait." It's not often that reaper stumbles over his words even when drunk let alone when he's completely sober. " Shut up. " He gets out defensively before Draken can laugh at him. " You are allowed. " He grumbles, finally getting his point out clearly with that remark.

Like he cares. The realization of what that look was like comes to Hanma when he turns his gaze away to avoided Draken's stare. He's happy to look at the frost covered trees or warm glow of the street lights - basically anything else while the realization settles like led. Draken had looked at him like he cared and that had rattled Hanma. People don't care about him. He's either useful, an enemy, or a fun time. It isn't about caring beyond a useful pawn. The closest to a caring look he might get are the times he offers painkillers for a hangover or shit like that.

He doesn't get caring looks unprompted. Certainly not while Hanma was just walking beside Draken after a night out and had done nothing in particular to earn that look that Draken was content or cared. Gold eyes flick to Draken from the corner of his eye and then away. It's....not the first time he supposes. He still remembers Draken had tried to offer him a hug to comfort and how he'd recoiled like someone was trying to muzzle him. Draken's softness is almost as visible as the man himself when he's not in a brawl. Hanma's only comes out behind closed doors and often in the dark or early morning hours where reality and sleep blended together and became hard to distinguish. Otherwise it came in smaller gestures that Hanma had no idea if they were understood or not - cooking despite his dislike, actually bothering to answer texts, lowering his guard somewhere that wasn't his own space.

It really isn't something Hanma has ever put much thought towards before. Now he does and he isn't quite sure what to do with it. What the hell does Draken even think about this? Whatever they're doing? Hanma? He's never asked. He doesn't plan to either. But there's an oddly unpleasant sensation at the thought that - well, he's not quite sure himself what the thought is or why it's there. That he's hot and cold towards Draken? Something like that, when it's not really true. Life has already severed one of the few bonds Hanma did have.

Hanma's feet slow, and he watches Draken stride ahead a few steps before realizing something is wrong and come closer. It makes one step easier for Hanma. His hands lift to catch Draken's face before he bends down a fraction to press a kiss to his lips. It's not the first time - he's kissed him at isolated spots, or in the heat of the club. But there's no teeth that show his hunger or violence. No force that demands an equal response, no seeking or provoking or urging. Just warmth where their lips meet, soft in the way Hanma usually gives before sleep settles in. This time though its in the full hours of the evening while people brush past, paying little mind to the two of them figures on the side of the sidewalk. It's slower and unhurried, seeking nothing. He pulls back after a few moments with a small grin, hands still remaining on his cheeks.

" What, am i not allowed to kiss you now? " Hanma asks playfully, mimicking Draken's question despite the fact his voice has dropped in tone to something closer to his actual voice. His hands fall away from Draken and he offers up no explanation. ( He's not sure he'd have one even if asked. ) " So, are we wandering or did you have a destination in mind? " Hanma asks, as if he hadn't done anything out of character just now.

[cat-denied]

thanks so much for tagging me!!

1. Are you named after anyone?

...ahaha, sort of? my deadname was a family member's middle name (and i never really disliked my deadname apart from it being for the wrong gender), and my actual name is after the main character of a video game. not telling what it actually is tho, sorry! and "cat" is not named after anyone.

2. When was the last time you cried?

i have no idea, but i do cry at the drop of a hat, so it probably hasn't been very long! i'd guess less than a week if that.

3. Do you have kids?

nope!

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

sort of but not really? i like to joke by just saying lies (i.e. expecting someone else to be in on the bit with me) but not really sarcasm as such. at least i don't think so. on occasion i do tho!

5. What sports do you play/have played?

oh my god i actually have an answer for this now! ok so for most of my life the answer to this would have been No, zero, unless you count soccer when i was like six (which i wouldn't). but in the past year or so i've started fencing, which has been super fun! i'm not GOOD at it, but it's a great time! i was fencing saber for a while, but this summer i've been doing epee with a friend which is also great (though so totally different).

6. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

huh, i dunno. gonna second bojanus's response here and say probably hair. although, i dunno, maybe like height?

7. What’s your eye color?

hazel!

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings!!!! don't get me wrong i can get behind a good tragedy or melancholy ending, but...well...usually i don't. i love a good happy ending (though that's not to say scary movies can't have happy endings - i still usually don't watch them though).

9. Any special talents?

man, i dunno, haha! i do a lot of things but i don't know if any count as "special talents". i play the piano and i like to think i do it well, i write, i draw a little, i dunno!

10. Where were you born?

in the same house where i grew up!

11. What are your hobbies?

lol everything i put under "special talents" goes here - writing, drawing, playing piano (or other instruments!) - but also taking walks with friends if that counts, and playing video games.

12. Do you have pets?

none at the moment! i had a dog when i was a kid thouhg. god i love dogs

13. How tall are you?

about 5'8" or 5'9"

14. Favorite subject in school?

this is the sorta thing that changed every year, but i think it was mostly english (or language arts).

15. Dream job?

lol i am currently unemployed, so anything that pays well and doesn't require obscene hours. real answer i always wanted to be an author when i was a kid, but honestly i think any answer i put here would have glaring flaws thanks to the society we live in. despite that, there are an awful lot of things i think it would be cool to be! i would love to create some sort of art for a living in an ideal world, i think

tags: @gravitonbeamemitter, @jofiah, @treespeaking, @avatarofthewh0re, @wvl7, @wlw-wukong, @dgeometric, @gayliteraryanalysis, @mellow-galaxy57, @jemeryl, and that'll do it! no pressure if u don't wanna do it ofc

15 Questions, 15 Mutuals

Thanks to @trainsinanime for the tag!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope!

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last time I cried a solid amount was when watching Space Sweepers (2021) the other week... the ending got to me. More generally if you count tearing up or shedding a tear or two I'm quite vulnerable to those feel-good tender videos of like, marriage proposals and shelter animals finding a home etc etc, and unfortunately I have been using tiktok and it's learned that I watch and like those videos, so I probably shed a tear yesterday or the day before over one of those little things.

3. Do you have kids?

No

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

On occasion, but I wouldn't call that a defining trait of mine.

5. What sports do you play/have played?

Ahaha no. For real though, I was a theater kid back in high school, so the closest thing I did to a sport may have been dancing.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

Probably hair?

7. What’s your eye color?

Blue

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

HAPPY ENDINGS. I hate scary movies so much, I'm so weak to whatever emotions a story creator is trying to elicit (thus why I cry at so many tender movies/videos) but that means if it's a scary movie I will be legitimately SCARED and TERRIFIED. Bad time.

9. Any special talents?

Not particularly special but I play a little piano and guitar.

10. Where were you born?

United States of America

11. What are your hobbies?

Uhh making music, drawing, writing... basically anything with a creation/storytelling component I think is fun :D.

12. Do you have pets?

Not at the moment

13. How tall are you?

5' 7" (~170cm)

14. Favorite subject in school?

Music classes

15. Dream job?

I actually am having a pretty good time at my job right now... tho I suppose being paid to do nothing would be even better XD.

No pressure tags (u are always welcome to ignore, or to do the game without also tagging 15 people): @falliblefabrial @cat-denied @queenanne1532 @chekhovsdisconnectedwormbell @cealesti @toasthaste @vriska @mad-scientist-deki @out-in-the-darkside @haboat @emilyelizabethfowl @aphrodaisyacs @faustianfantasy @madoka-take-me-away @triflesandparsnips

[holy-guacamoly]

Can I pls get canon universe Erwin faling for/ with an s/o 10-15 years younger than him? If you are comfortable, ofc. Let’s say he’s 36? So the s/o is 21? Like would he think it’s wrong as stop himself, or would he give in? Thanks a lot🤗

Hey Anon! <3 As long as everyone is at a legal age, I see no problem with bigger age gaps. :) Funny enough I talked about such topics with my friends just yesterday.

Temptation - Erwin Smith x GN!Reader

Warnings: age gap, suggestive content but nothing serious, kissy kissy

Erwin Smith was a man with a high morality standard. People patronized him, forcing the mask of a perfect superior on his face. It was a blessing and a curse, a perfect mixture of yin and yang, but right now it caused him nothing but pain. He knew it was wrong, reprehensible, but even Erwin was nothing more than a human being under all his titles. "Commander...Sir are you okay?" Your soft voice rang through his ear shell like a carillon hugged by the wind. His pupils turned bigger as the broadly built man tried to lay his focus on your face in the dim candlelight. Your features were so soft, so even. It reminded Erwin of sparkling glass, that got washed up on the shore, polished by the sea until there was no imperfection left. Your face wasn't emaciated by war just yet. In other words, you were perfect. And that was the reason he despised you a little, just a tiny bit. You made him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel. The commander disliked how you appeared in his dreams and how you always lingered on his mind. And above all he hated himself for canceling other cadets' office duties, so you ended up here with him. The both of you were hovering over a tower of paperwork as the nightly concert of cicadas accompanied you. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine, cadet. Thanks for asking." Erwin finally returned after what seemed like an eternity. "Y-you, can call me Y/N, Sir. I think it's only appropriate after so many nights spent together." Blue eyes widened at that statement. Nights spent together? Oh, how he wished you meant it in that certain way. "I mean...over paperwork. Sorry, that came off wrong. Forget I said anything, Sir." Like if you were able to read his mind you corrected your bold statement. If Erwin's vision weren't already blurred my black spots of tiredness he would have sworn to see a faint blush on your cheeks. God, you looked alluring. The innocence you held was something rare in a world full of war and misery. The commander would protect it with every cell of his body, that was indeed a promise he made to himself. "If I should refer to you as Y/N, you need to drop the titles as well," the blonde began, leaning back into his chair. "As you said, we certainly spent too much time together to act like strangers." Of course, there was much more to his words, than he'd actually let you know. You smiled, honestly touched by the friendly offer. It made you slightly thrilled to be this close with your superior. This was truly a special gift. Trying to hide the grin in your voice you asked, "Well Si- Erwin, can you go over document 374? I'm not really sure how to handle it." The question was more masquerade than anything else because you were already walking over to him. As you leaned over to point out the details of said document, Erwin couldn't ignore the fact that your cleavage greeted him suggestively. The buttons of your uniform were loosened due to the high temperatures and he was able to get a good glimpse of your delicate skin. An audible gulp formed in the blonde's throat as his eyes were glued to your body. How badly he wanted to rip these clothes off of you. He wanted to kiss you everywhere and make you scream his name so everyone would know you're his. "I'll...take a look at...it," Erwin whispered, reaching for the piece of paper. As his hand moved forward to its destination, it brushed against your exposed chest for a faint second. Both of your heads shot up, surprise and embarrassment lingering on your faces. Erwin cleared his throat, while he tried to search for fitting words during that storm that was raging in his head. 'This is wrong' a tiny voice echoed through his mind once again. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate." Of all he could have said, it was this he chose to come up with? Pathetic. "Just an accident. It's okay, Erwin." You tried your best not to sound aroused, but your words came out like a purr. Without even realizing you leaned closer to him, while your counterpart certainly did the same. Just as your faces were mere inches away from each other, Erwin abruptly stood up. His whole body trembled and he slammed his hands on the table, causing you to jerk away. "No, it's not! Nothing is okay about this! I am your superior and beyond all, I am much older than you!" Words sputtered out of his mouth like an erupting volcano and to you nothing that he said made sense. Your eyes narrowed as a million voices of your subconscious roared. "I shouldn't long for you like that, but I do and for that, I am terribly sorry." In his voice lingered something erratic, something you never witnessed before. His chest went up and down as it was guided by heavy pants. For the first time in your short career, you saw Commander Erwin Smith utterly disturbed. Quietly you walked around the mahogany table until you were standing once again in front of the commander. It took all your might to stop your fingers from shaking as you reached up to cup his cheek. Your irises glistened in anticipation as you whispered, "Don't be sorry." This was the last thing you said before your lips met Erwin's. Tentatively at first, your kiss grew heated as your hands roamed over each other's bodies. Your head spun and you were sure that you'd faint if he wasn't holding you close. Every inch of skin begged to be explored by calloused fingertips. Breath mingled as your tongues ravished the delicious taste of a foreign sanctuary. You felt so many sensations. You felt everything. Now growing brave, you fidgeted with your lover's belt, to please him as you always dreamt of. But Erwin grabbed your wrist, stopping you right here and there. "No." he breathed against your cheek. It sounded weak like he didn't mean it all, but still, he refused to let go of your hand. "We can't do this, Y/N." 'This is wrong' 'This is wrong' 'This is wrong' The tiny voice repeated. You heard yourself letting out something that sounded like a whine. "Why? Don't you love me?" you mewled and the pain in your voice didn't stay unnoticed by Erwin. Slowly the commander let go of you only to gently cup your face between strong hands. His thumbs caressed your heated skin and he said, "That's the problem, my dear. I love you so much while I know I shouldn't." He stepped away, leaving you with nothing but a burning sensation on your body. The loss of touch stung like a thousand needles, drilling into your flesh. "Please don't do this to me." you whimpered. Erwin looked out of the window, scanning the indigo sky. He couldn't bear to look at you. "I'm sorry, cadet." Okay, I got carried away there. If I'm being honest with myself I see Erwin staying strong, but my romantic self wants to start a secret relationship with Y/N soooo idk what to do

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

shit-head!bakugou hcs

*the following is a varied but not in any way exhaustive list of all the shit bakugou pulls on the daily when ur his s/o

-okay, so to start, let’s get one thing straight: bakugou likes when you yell at him. he does. he thinks it’s funny when you’re annoyed and pretty damn hot when you’re pissed at him, so he spends all day, every day, trying to needle a reaction out of you. bc he’s a hot-head with a mischevious streak n absolutely no impulse control when it comes to you. obviously.

-alright so, he probably pulls your hair to get your attention. not, like, hard or anything, it doesn’t hurt, but you’d still 100% prefer if he maybe just didn’t

-bakugou moves your things when you’re not looking,, not very far or in difficult to find places, but he’ll still do it just to be annoying. laughs under his breath every single time you yell at him for it

-will occasionally come up and hug you from behind. it’s very unusual for him so ur ‘???’ about it at first. then he’s nuzzling and kissing ur neck softly so you just kinda accept it and melt into being 🥰 about it. then he bites. not a cute bite, not a sexy bite, literally just chomps down and bites. u squeal/squirm bc obviously. he just laughs at the reaction he wanted and then leaves the room entirely. without apologizing or saying anything bc he’s an asshole

-ruffles your hair after you’ve just done it

-will pluck your phone out of your hands. not for any reason, he’ll just walk by and snatch it,,, probably does so for the entire reason of wanting you to yell at him

-intentionally mispronounces your name when he introduces you to people he finds unimportant. bakugou just thinks the look on your face is funny,,, n he doesn’t give a shit bc the person is beneath him and that means they don’t deserve to know your real name anyways

-if y’all are at a social gathering and he doesn’t want to be there anymore, he’ll start saying his goodbyes almost immeadiately. then he’ll go around and say your goodbyes for you, so when he’s pulling you out the door nobody says anything about your sudden exit

-will chug your entire drink while your turned around. probably says some “wow. should probably fill this up, idiot.” while holding up the glass with a shit-eating grin

-picks you up. just sweeps your feet out from under you just to place you back down. idk he likes chaos n there’s nothing more chaotic then ur flailing limbs and squawking when he does so

-if you’re in your bedroom reading when bakugou wants to go to bed, he’ll turn the lights off regardless of what you’re doing. if you complain and get up to turn them on again, he’ll leave them on and won’t do anything else or even complain,,, but most times you don’t want to get up, don’t want to make the effort so you just leave them off. bakugou knows this. it’s why he turns them off in the first place.

-if you’re laying on the couch, taking up all the room, and bakugou wants to sit, he won’t lift your feet into his lap. no, he’ll just sit on them. will just sit on them until you give up your yelling and move to make room for him

-when he’s bored he likes to bicker for entertainment. so whatever you’re doing at the time he’ll just attack sayin sum like “jesus, don’t you know how fucking stupid that is? i’d never do that.” n ur just like, watching tv pls kill him he’s so annoying

-will fling hairbands/scrunchies at you while you’re doing your nightly routine. does this bc, in his eyes, you’re taking too long and bakugou just wants to go to sleep

-complains when u wear clothes he doesn’t like the feel of. like, if it feels itchy/scratchy against his skin when he hugs u, bakugou will let you kno��w how much he dislikes it. loudly

-offers you food just to pull his plate away when you reach for it ,, then sits there saying “god, i really am the best fuckin chef. this shit’s delicious. woulda shared too, but it didn’t seem like you wanted it enough.” ,, all said while smirking ofc

-when you hug he’ll intentionally breathe against the shell of your ear. does this so he can make fun of you when you shiver/squirm

-says shit like “hey, i had the best fuckin’ dream last night.” n u go ‘??? what was it?’ n bakugou will look you dead in the eyes, straight-faced n just go “you went mute. shit was paradise.” ,,, 🙄 give him the silent treatment after babes, he’ll be whining and bitching and taking it back by hour 2

-will lay directly on top of you if he doesn’t want you to leave the bed in the morning. will just flop, dead-weight onto you until you stop struggling. then he’ll make fun of you if you fall asleep again. bc he’s a dick.

-he won’t eat your food, but he’ll act like he did. so you’ll get home from work, and u’ve been thinking about your leftover take out all day, right, n bakugou will sneak up behind you while you’re searching for the food in the fridge. he’ll push the fridge closed with a hand near your head n lean in to say some “don’t bother. ate it already, dumbass. wasn’t great.” against ur ear. pls when you turn around pissed at him he’ll just laugh, push you away from the fridge and take out the food and hand it to you. he never ate it. he never does. he just likes when you think he did and yell at him for it

-keeps a running list, in his phone, of words you’ve misused/mispronounced. will recite all of them at you just because he can

-kicks at the back of your knees. he’ll never let you fall, will always, always catch you, but he likes to do it anyways. bc katsuki is a child

-changes the tv channel right when your show comes back on for commerical. somehow keeps a perfectly straight face the entire time you’re screaming at him

-unties your shoes/unzips your jacket/takes your glasses off your face damn near constantly. he thinks he’s funny. he isn’t.

-if bakugou decides that you’re not paying enough attention to him, he won’t say anything. won’t say anything at all but will just sit there and clear his throat obnoxiously. then you’re like “can i help you with something?” n he’ll just turn his head and “no. i don’t need shit from you.” (he does, pls talk to him or hug him or something bc he won’t stop until u catch on)

-if he’s tired he will tell you. loudly. constantly. opens his mouth to say the same “i’m fuckin’ tired.” shit every 30 seconds until you finish up whatever you’re doing and go to bed with him

-if his hands/feet are cold, he’ll put them on you. bc he thinks it’s funny when you squirm

-if there’s an opening for a joke he’ll say it. every single time. never lets you breathe for a second without roasting you. ofc then he’ll try and gather u into a hug n say some “no, don’t get mad, dummy. i had to fuckin’ say it! you walked into it!” ,,, don’t hug him. shrug him off bc he deserves it

-is a backseat driver. now bakugou cannot drive for shit without evolving into a vibrating mess of poor judgment and road rage, but he doesn’t let that stop him from opening his mouth when you’re driving

-smacks your ass every chance he gets. mans never lets an opportunity pass him by

-don’t ask him to get you anything. ever. bc he won’t hand it to you politely. he will kick it to you, chuck it at you, or drop it directly on you from a ridiculous height,,, ofc he warns you so you can catch it and not get hurt, but still

-will unironically comment and critique your teeth brushing habits,, all while his gums are literally bleeding from constant abuse

-pretends he’s deaf when you tell him to do things. that’s it. that’s the concept.

-steals the blanket right off your lap. wraps its around himself with a “oh. didn’t look like you were fuckin’ using it.” ,,, ofc u know this is just a ploy. a terrible ploy to get you to cuddle with him for warmth, bc god forbid he just ask, but it’s still annoying. doesn’t stop him from doing it again though

so, in conclusion, no one will ever believe you when you try to tell them what a little shit he is. especially not since he’s only ever an outright asshole or entirely aloof around others

pls idk what this is but i absolutely couldnt stop thinking about it

[realcube]

haikyuu!! characters with a chubby! s/o 💗

characters: tsukishima, oikawa, atsumu, osamu & suna

thank you anon for this cute request 🥺

tw// comfort, fluff, angst if you squint, insecure! reader, swearing, they/them reader but reader wears a dress (in osamu’s)

(a/n): anon requested comfort but i feel bad bc i’m writing this like ‘no, (y/n)! stop being sad! you’re beautiful! 😡’ then i remember that i can just select+delete the pain away💗💖

Kei Tsukishima

let’s not pretend like tsukki gives a fuck what you look like tbh ✋

like nobody is ‘perfect’ and everyone is insecure (to varying degrees) so why would he care about your weight?

nobody ticks every single box to meet society’s definition of ‘beauty’  

plus, tsukki thought beauty standards were stupid away so he created his own - and you meet every single one 💖

in fact, almost everyone meets his beauty standards - besides himself ‘:)

he seriously doesn’t care about your weight tbh, it’s the most trivial thing so why would he care?

although, he wasn’t naïve enough to think that everyone was like-minded

your front of ‘i don’t care about what other people think of me’ was strong enough to fool even the most observant of poeple, including tsukki

however, tsukishima failed to take into consideration that you were his girlfriend, meaning that you could be playing the same game as him; ‘pretend to not care about superficial things like beauty so nobody will think for a second that you are insecure about your body’

he wasn’t one to give compliments but neither were you tbh so the mutual agreement y’all have of ‘let’s call each other names as a form of endearment to avoid those awkward moments were you are looking for the right words for praise but can’t come up with anything’  was fair

but after you accidentally sent him a self-deprecating ‘joke’ message that was clearly meant for a friend, he never passed up the opportunity to compliment you ever again

like he kinda just stared at the message like 😮 ‘does (y/n) seriously care about their weight? why? it doesn’t even matter. how stupid! who told them that the shape of their body is important? bc it’s not..’

then he turns to look in the mirror like ‘wow you srsly need to put on muscle, lanky bitch. or else (y/n) will probably leave you for some built jackass like kuroo. pick up some weights, noodle arms!’

anyway, he’s not too good with words and comfort in situations like these but he’ll probably reply to your text with something out-of-character and surprisingly sweet

to paraphrase (bc the actual text would probably be like a whole damn persuasive essay LMAO he starts with the introduction, makes five points and finishes with a conclusion pfft) , i think it would be something like: ‘hey, (y/n). ik that text was probably meant for one of your friends (but if they’re the ones making you feel bad about your weight then you should probably drop those toxic cunts anyway 💅✨) but i just wanted to say that even though you are the biggest clown i’ve ever met (/j) you’re still v beautiful 💗 stop being insecure or i’ll pass away ⚰💀 ok thx love you bye’

Tōru Oikawa

how are you insecure if you’re dating oikawa? /j

like he is such a hypeman

whenever y’all take pics in your ✨fancy outfits ✨ for formal event, he acts as though you are second most beautiful thing on the face of this earth 😍 (second to him ofc)

but he only does that so he can keep up the reputation he has of being effortlessly confident bc he’s scared that if it slips for even a second, everyone will see how truly insecure he is

truthfully, in his eyes, you come first place by miles (❤ ω ❤)

like srsly, you’re so gorgeous in that dress!! he hopes that you know that he is joking about the whole ‘second place’ thing bc you should be able to tell by the way he looks at you that you’re genuinely the most striking person he’s ever laid his eyes on 

you never acted overly confident in front of him but he definitely didn’t think you were as insecure as you are

he thought you were just..humble :)

sometimes he’d hear you mutter something mean about yourself as you passed the mirror but he paid no mind to it as he figured that you just cared about your appearance and wanted to maintain a certain image

however, once he was made aware that you didn’t want to maintain your image but rather, change it - he never let you murmur anything nasty about yourself under your breath ever again, not without proceeding to tackle you to the ground and shower you with his love, affection & praise 💞💕❤

and he never made a ‘second place’ joke ever again, he started his honesty streak by reassuring you that you’ll always be the number one in his eyes 🤩

also, after that, he was a lot more open about his own insecurities with you and you made sure to respect them and help him in a similar way that he did

there is just so much love and admiration between the two of you and at first you were both to shy to express it but now, you both are showering each other in compliments 24/7 bc you both just want the other one to know how perfect you view them as (❁´◡`❁)

Atsumu Miya

atsumu is a hypeman like oikawa but...better :)

IT’S BC HE HAS NO SHAME

he’ll compliment you on anything you wear and he makes it a point to use the most inappropriate compliment as possible, relative to the outfit you’re wearing

so if you’re wearing your pyjamas, he’ll call you ‘glamourous’

if you are wearing a swimsuit, he’ll call you ‘elegant’

if you’re in your work clothes/school uniform, he’ll call you ‘sexy’

and if you’re in lingerie, he’ll call you ‘adorable’

but it makes you blush so hey, no complaints

so when he finds out that you’re actually insecure about your weight, he’s just like ‘no ❤’

like he hates the idea that when you look in the mirror, you don’t see the god(dess) he sees

like why? it’s the same person

💞 fuck ‘perception’ 💞

💕 ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ TF YOU ARE THE FUCKING BEAUTY💕

grrr he was so mad  

but he was also soft 

he was like ‘if (y/n) insecure? then why hot? then why pretty? then why fit perfectly into my arms?’

plus, THIGHS

he’d never diss a person bc they had small thighs or anything BUT he’d also NEVER complain about being given the chance to be with someone with some good thighs 👍

tbh the best could do to help was compliment you ten times harder to eliMINATE ALL YOUR INSECURIES 

(and ofc i don’t mean that in a way - for example - if you’re insecure about your nose, he’ll fkn chop it off......he won’t chop your nose off LMAO he’ll just show you how much he loves it, to the point where you have no choice but to love it too ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ )

anyway, plz love (or at least, tolerate) yourself or else he’ll suffocate you with all his love and affection :D

Osamu Miya

osamu is at a loss when it comes to typical beauty standards tbh

to him, weight (and most things) are similar to..hand size, for example

just like how you can’t imagine someone feeling self-conscious about the size of their hand (especially if their hand is a healthy size) 

he can’t imagine why some one would be shamed for their weight (especially if they’re a healthy size)

so had no idea you could possibly be insecure about something like that and he probably on realised after a few years in the relationship 😅

there was a formal event coming up and y’all were going as dates so you wanted to shop for outfits together 

as couples do ✌

anyway, he was on a dress site, scrolling away until you pointed out one that you thought was pretty - and it matched the color of the tie osamu bought too!

it was a fair price (for a formal dress 🙄 which is probably like $68/50) so osamu was like ‘buy it then ( •̀ ω •́ )✧’  bc he thought it would so gorgeous on you 

but you were like ‘no’

and after he pried further, you explained how you thought it wouldn’t ‘suit your body type’ 

GRRR HE dislikes IT WHEN PPL SAY THIS SO MUCH BC HOE YOU DON’T HAVE A BODY TYPE YOU’VE GOT A BODY 😡💕 WEAR THE DAMN DRESS IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BEAUTIFUL 

but like deadass it’s not your blood type-  it’s just a thing ppl made up to make ppl (mostly women) feel bad about themselves for no reason

but that might just be his inner atsumu talking 🤷‍♂️

he didn’t even know what to say at first- he was just like ????? body type ????

but once he figured out what you meant, he still had no idea what to say- at least, without sounding rude

what if someone came up to you and told you they were insecure about the shape of their knee.......what do you even say???

so he was silent for like the rest of the day

you decided to give him some space just in case something happened which had upset him

he had no idea what to say, in all honesty, so he hoped that his actions spoke louder than words 

around 3 days had passed since you last spoke to osamu and you were beginning to think something you had said made him uncomfortable

you were studying in your room until there was a ring at your door so you rushed downstairs and you opened it to reveal a package sitting on your doormat

you had recently ordered some cleaning equipment so you were sure that the content of the package was probably that

so imagine your surprise when you tear it open to reveal  — you guessed it —  the dress 💕

Rintarō Suna

when he says that he doesn’t care what ppl look like, he means it

he upkeeps his own appearance though bc..it’s his!

like why would he care about what weight you are? that’s none of his business

as you can tell, he’s generally not shallow but sometimes when y’all are just cuddling and your face is pressed to his chest, the words ‘you’re so cute’ just fall from his lips

so ofc he appreciates compliments over his skills, personality, humour etc over flattery about his appearance 

hence, the praise he gives you is usually based around those things too bc he just thinks that you’re just like him in the fact you don’t appreciate skin-deep comments

so when he found out that you’re actually insecure about your weight (or something else), he kinda blames himself

he thinks that the whole reason you’re not extremely confident in your appearance is all due to him and the fact he fact he maybe didn’t compliment you on your looks enough  — but that’s not to say that he doesn’t think you’re beautiful 

you’re the most radiant person he’s ever laid his eyes on and he thought you knew that regardless of whether he vocalised it or not

he wasn’t really sure what to do tbh

bc he loved you and wanted to comfort you ofc but he was scared of making things worse

like what if something he says accidentally makes you so upset that you break-up with him 😭

but he knew he couldn’t just stay silent about the issue, especially when he wanted to say to much

thus, he sent you a heartfelt message on discord 

(rather than snap, whatsapp etc so he could edit it after he posts it bc knowing him, he’ll probably write something, reread it ten times then as soon as he hits send, he spots a bunch of mistakes)

and he’d explain how you’re simply divine regardless of your insecurity and if anything, it just makes you cuter 😍

ok ok so i really don’t want it so seem like he has a fetish bc HE DOESN’T 

but he think your curves are so fun and pretty ❤ 

like everything about you is pretty but suna just can’t comprehend why you’re insecure about something like your weight when he literally adores it (bc he adores everything about you) 

[dramaticlester]

Grow as we go

summary: dan and phil welcome 2022 with coziness and closeness. they also discuss the ring that’s resided on dans finger for a few years:) based off “grow as we go” by ben platt, ofc! 10/10 recommend a listen

genre : fluff

warnings: mentions alcohol (not excessive)

•I don't think you have to leave

If to change is what you need

You can change right next to me

When you're high, I'll take the lows

You can ebb and I can flow

And we'll take it slow

And grow as we go•

bringing in the new year has always been hard for dan. sometimes he feels like he’s not fully taken the year in his stride, he often feels scared by the numbers changing, and he doesn’t like the expectation of having something to achieve in the new year.

2022 will be different, though. as he wakes with phil on the morning of the 31st, he doesn’t feel unsure. in fact, he’s never felt more certain. of course, he’s planning his return to the internet bit by bit, he’s preparing for things that have been put off for years, but he’s also going to become a lester. well, a lester privately. they’d made the decision to double barrel their names so they could still use their own names professionally. it just seemed logical. it saved arguments, though dan had been keen to just become a lester.

he’s excited for the change, he’s excited to be louder and happy. he wants to name drop randomly, he wants to post the pictures that he’s taken but has forgotten to take his engagement ring off for, he wants to post the pictures from the engagement. he wants the sentiment, he wants to share it with people who care about him and how much he’s grown.

his growth is funny, really. he was such an asshole when he was younger, he was possessive and he pushed everyone away so they didn’t only dislike him, but they disliked phil because of it, too. but phil stuck by him, he let him cry into his shoulder, he left events early to tend to his baby of a boyfriend, he didn’t laugh. he was so good. it makes dan appreciate the ring on his finger so much more.

their new year’s eve is uneventful. they’re both still reeling from christmas, making up for the time apart and eating chocolate for breakfast, dinner, and tea. they’re playing the new games they’ve been given and watching films. dan knows phil gets antsy towards the end of the festive season, especially the period between christmas and new years where no one really knows what day it is and each day feels an hour long yet simultaneously a year long.

dan passes phil a flute of champagne after tea, with a chocolate. the ring on his finger feels light as it bangs against the glass. he catches phil smiling at it as he thanks dan for his drink. dan settles beside him, pulling the blanket off the back round his shoulders. they’re not really big on celebrating new year with other people, or drinking it away. they prefer to remain cosy, watching the odd firework from out the window. though, it’s slightly more difficult in 2021 since their new house is rather secluded and nothing like being high up in their apartment.

it’s 11pm now, the clocks are ticking nearer to 2022. they’re looking forward to it, phil is aching to talk about it.

“can you believe we’ve been engaged for so long?” phil says as he sips his champagne; he shivers at the taste. “so long.” that’s said as more of a whisper.

“i think this is the best time. we’re both out and comfortable, we have a house, an actual life.”

phil laughs at that, kissing the side of dans head, “we were a bit messed up when i put that ring on you.”

dan lifts his hand up, twirling the simple band around his finger. it’s nothing special, well to anyone else, but it is to him. phil gave it to him at a time when he was battling a lot of things. when his trip to japan was a bit of a blur because he was genuinely happy for the first time that year. phil got down on one knee in the middle of a lot of trees. no one else was there, it was just them. it allowed dan to cry, he was an ugly crier. it let him hug his fiancée close to him, thank him for letting him feel normal and safe. it’s where his journey to self acceptance actually happened. when he decided coming out was a definite because there was no way he wouldn’t share his future husband as that.

they sent pictures to phil’s family of the trees surrounding them, of the wedding band, and they printed a photo of them holding hands, the ring in view. phil’s dad even painted the location on beautiful canvases and surprised them with it. dans family were delighted. his mum teared up on the facetime. she was proud of her little boy.

as the clock nears midnight, phil’s hand is resting against dans thigh. he can feel dans burning flesh through his pants and he wonders why the blanket is still wrapped around his shoulders. the tv is showing a repeat of something in the back, so phil switches it over to the countdown. dan is in his own world, but phil leaves him be because he looks happy. they’re on their third glass of champagne, so phil is lightly warmed by it… they won’t drink anymore though.

5

dan is snapped out of his trance, his hand interlacing with phil’s

4, 3, 2,

dan leans forward to put his glass down as phil’s hand curves around his jaw

1

and their lips meet softly.

2022 looms, but never as menacingly as any other year. they’re ready for it, ready to take on anything that’s thrown at them. soon they’ll be the ‘howell-lesters’ and there’s no greater force than that.

[gyuphorias]

OKAY LISTEN first of all you are my fav writer and the fact that u do asks is so hot of u... second of all ive had this thought for the longest time but couldnt tell anyone so.

you go to the internet café to expose your ex for cheating on you, eric ( a stranger ) is playing some random ass video game using the computer next to the one your ex was using to play, then noticing you screaming and your ex calling you names~

eric gets up, grabs your wrist, takes you out of the café and crosses the road, your ex following and screaming at eric for interfering.

eric pins u against a wall, in front of your ex, kisses you in the most passionate way possible and proves to your ex that you can do whatever he did without feeling bothered.

first omg i'm so honored ????? it blows my mind that someone considers me their favorite author thank u so much i might cry </3 i try to keep my asks open, but i've stepped back from tumblr to focus on other things. ur always welcome to drop thoughts in my inbox it just might take me some time to get to them <3

this thought of urs ... let me tell u ... Yeah<3

eric is really loud and ambitious n he's never really seemed to hold back from being disruptive. in this situation, he's probably got his headphones on and he's completely zoned in on his game, so he doesn't tune into your argument until he can hear you over the sounds of his game. he's never met you before, but your (in the process of becoming) ex frequents this internet cafe and eric has always disliked him because he's such an asshole to people.

he wouldn't normally step in because it's not his place at all, but he does have a prior distaste for this guy and you're on the verge of having a mental breakdown. he thinks it's only fair to get you out of there as soon as he can. he shuts his station down and grabs his things before he can even start second guessing himself, and then he's gathering you into his arms to herd you into the world outside. you're trying to protest through tears and looking up at him all confused, but you're grateful to feel the cool evening air on your otherwise scorching skin, so you let this handsome stranger lead you away.

at least until your ex follows you out and tries to keep the fight going, this time with eric who was only trying to help you out. the guy is shouting at him for interfering and telling him it's none of his business, so eric whips around and tells him that it became his business when you two started duking it out in the cafe. ofc this doesn't deter your ex from causing an even bigger scene, yelling about how your relationship isn't over and lying through his teeth about cheating on you (it's so clear to eric that he's trying to gaslight you), so eric does the only other thing he can think to do.

he kisses you, just cradles your face in his hands and kisses you so passionately. you're immediately surprised and your first instinct is to push him away, but this guy is going out on a limb to drive your ex away, so you let it happen, even going as far as kissing him back. you can hear your ex make a sound of indignation and then walk away, muttering about how that conversation isn't over. when eric finally pulls away, he gets shy and flustered, apologizing for kissing you, especially because you don't know him, but you shush him and tell him that yeah, it was crossing a line, but you appreciate him doing something to get you out of that situation. when he realizes you don't feel so scandalized by it, he offers to make it up to you by taking you out for dinner or coffee sometime. and that's how you end up with eric sohn's phone number and an apology dinner planned for the weekend.

[raviposting]

Okay so I’ve seen a lot of conflicting responses to Buddie this episode, from it being clear to people that they’re getting together, to thinking the writers have unintentionally messed things up to thinking it’s purely queerbait.

And I get the different responses, I do - tbh I’m somehow in two camps, where I simultaneously believe it’s a slowburn but I also think it’s bait. And those are two very different opinions to have and it got me thinking about why we have these different responses as fans to the possibility of a queer ship (namely two men who would presumably be bi/pan) being canon. 

While people talk about how it’s just people wanting two characters to kiss or entitled fans - sure, that’s existent in every fandom, but I think there’s also a very real fear from queer fans who don’t want to get their hopes up and I d on’t love how the conversation has shifted to calling queer fans stupid for having hope, so I kind of wanted to break it down into 3 aspects that I’ve noticed: 

How writers portray bi characters and why that makes fans hesitant to have hope

What queerbait actually means as a concept

How much “slowburn” has changed in procedurals

1. How writers portray bi characters

Something I’ve thought about a lot are the bi characters I’ve seen on TV - Darryl (CEG), Sara Lance (Arrow), Lucifer (Lucifer), just to name a few. These are great characters imo and I think you’d have a fun time watching but a thing to note is that all these characters were established as bi within the first season of their respective shows and they all fairly quickly fell into a clear romantic ship as well (with the exception of Sara as she spanned multiple shows). It may have taken time for them to say the word bisexual, but it was still clear these characters were queer fairly quickly on. You could maybe argue that Lucifer was a slowburn, but then (while it does not take away from him being bi/pan so do not use this as an excuse to be shitty about him) it’s a m/f ship which is still not the point of my post, to find a m/m or f/f ship that has that same treatment.

Some writers have done it - like for Valencia in CEG, or Petra in JTV - when they saw that fans read them this way, but trying to find those characters were few and far between, and when I looked at popular queerbait ships (whether or not they actually are queerbait) it’s usually ships where the characters are largely viewed as bisexual. A lot of times this also comes with pushback from both straight and to be frank, other queer fans as well. Straight fans don’t always see the signs that queer fans do, so to them a queer character who hasn’t been explicitly clear from the start comes out of nowhere. And what I’ve seen from certain queer fans are concerns that people aren’t appreciating the canon queer characters in a show - and I think there is a conversation to be had about that, but I don’t think the response should also be about then demanding less representation for people either. 

If we go back to 911, people talk a lot about how it has canon queer characters, which it definitely does - Michael, Hen, Josh, Karen, and David are all canonically gay/lesbian and that’s awesome, and we absolutely should talk about fans (white fans in particular) ignoring these characters. It also does not change the fact that none of these characters are bisexual and that is the representation people are looking for. Both of these things are true - these characters are often under appreciated in canon AND people deserve bisexual representation. They don’t contradict each other and to act like one negates the other does a huge disservice.

And even if a character was made bisexual in the canon text we don’t get that slowburn. This may be true for things like Leverage, or LOK, but there’s also a real fact of censorship that affected these shows and the fact that general audiences may not understand the queer text tjat the writers intended. It doesn’t make the writing any less wonderful or the ships any less poignant or beautiful or important, and there’s ofc shows like She Ra that made this more obvious (or the.....mess that was Supernatural that made it. Half true?) but these are still real things that should be acknowledged on why people are so hesitant to call it slowburn - because it’s something most queer fans haven’t SEEN DONE, because m/f ships will get that care for slowburn when it’s done but it’s not done for m/m or f/f ships in that same capacity.

2. What queerbait is

This one’s fun because I don’t think many people understand what it is, but queerbait is very dependent on the intentions of the writers/creators/etc. - which tbh can be hard to gauge, because a genuine intention that ended up not happening or someone baiting fans or someone trying to support all ships and not be rude all have very different intentions but to a fan who only sees bits and pieces of this person on social media, it can be hard to gauge.

Honestly with how much the 4th wall gets broken because of social media now I’d personally say we’ve probably moved into a different definition of queerbait - unintentional vs intentional - because we’re at a point where a show knows what ships are popular and at what level of excitement fans are for it - but that being said, there’s still a clear spectrum of intent. And imo? I don’t think 911 has that intent of queerbait - whether it’s a slowburn or they have a different vision for buddie that I (probably) won’t agree with remains to be seen, but this show usually treats its storylines with care. Are they perfect at it? No, definitely not, I definitely think that they’ve dropped the ball a few times (especially with just how many characters they have lmao), but they also clearly do their storylines with earnest and with genuine care for these characters.

Is 911 getting them together? I want to say yes. I don’t think this was always the plan, just something that they decided along the way, but I also don’t think that changes anything about the ship. A lot of people point to Tim Minear being vague about the ship, or the actors and their interpretations, but 1. We have no idea what they’ve been told about Buddie moving forward and 2. No show runner is going to spoil their show that much. 911 may be keeping quiet because they have a different plan for buddie, sure, but also maybe because they’re still figuring out how exactly they want to do this and/or they want to make this slowburn and don’t want to give it away.

3. Slowburn in procedurals

I feel like this is something that procedurals have started shying away from, but slowburns used to be very common - Bones, Castle, their ships didn’t get together for literal years, but that’s just not something that many shows do nowadays, even for m/f ships. Even things like Deckerstar will have the characters get together after ~3 seasons and explore the relationship onwards, whereas a few years ago, y ou’d pr obably be watching a sh ow and it’d take them 7 seasons to get together. My assumption for this is that shows are afraid  of getting canceled, but there’s been a pretty big shift in getting a couple together after say, 6 seasons to now getting them together about halfway through the show. I don’t think either one is bad or good - in good writers’ hands, either can be amazing - but that shift has made it so that a lot of younger fans in particular, I think, don’t fully recognize slowburn when they see it.

911 as a show tends to run pretty fast - it kind of has to with its depth of characters they have - but when they do have slower running storylines they really do make use of that as well. Bobby’s addiction is something that’s always going to be present in his character, May’s suicide attempt was brought up again front and center after 3 seasons, even Chim’s dynamic with the Lees was brought up again and it was reinforced again that they’re his family. There are certain storylines that have to be continuous and aren’t a one and done type of thing, and that includes Buck and Eddie, especially if you want to establish them as queer to a general audience who doesn’t think about these things.

And honestly, despite my fears, I think they are laying groundwork there. We have Buck learning to be more confident in his relationships, we have Eddie ready to date and learning to follow his own heart, we have Buck and Eddie both establishing that Buck is family and will always be there for Christopher. These are pretty big steps to do for a ship and we’ll obviously have to see how the show goes forward but they’ve already insinuated Eddie and Ana are breaking up, I’m sure Taylor and Buck may last a season and be over, but we do have to see what this next season brings. Do I think they’d say this? No, definitely not.

tl;dr: 

911 is a show with good viewership, but there’s always a possibility they can’t continue with their season and then their promises would feel like a lie. Or they may still be hammering out the details as this season hasn’t been written. Or they may just simply not want to spoil their show,  or they don’t want people criticizing a story before it’s finished, all of these could be reasons. The showrunners, writers, actors, ultimately they owe nothing to us as a fandom to potentially spoil their series, or do something, change it or their schedule for it, and get accused of bait. 

But it also doesn’t change why fans are wary of this storyline either, and I wish people would have more nuance and compassion for fans who are worried about queerbait (whether they think it’s not queerbait and dislike people worrying about it or if they do and are calling people idiots for believing it). There’s a lot of reasons why fans are wary and don’t want to have hope, and it’s not necessarily about 911 specifically as it is a pattern of writing seen in other pieces that have fans worried. These things can all coexist and I wish we as fandom in general could acknowledge that, because pretending that they don’t and criticizing each other/people’s intentions or knowledge when they have certain expectations also doesn’t do much to help.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Eight ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3620

Warnings: Mild language, tw ptsd

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Happy early Thursday morning! Hope you have a good day <3

Cosima’s right arm grips around me like a vice. Her left arm rests gingerly on her leg. Baranor did what he could, but I imagine it is still painful to move the arm around and irritate the injury. To jostle her as little as possible, I ride as smoothly as I can. Faervel seems to sense that he needs to put extra care into the force with which his hooves hit the ground. When we hit an unavoidable jolt, I hear Cosima’s sharp intake of breath and instantly regret causing her pain. At one point, the hand curled against my stomach begins to shake, and I want to stop the horse. I want to pause and look her in the eye and swear to do better next time. I’ll watch more, fight harder, move faster, keep her safe. I want to explain to her my revitalized resolve—nothing will get to her now. She doesn’t need to worry, because I’ll do better.

But of course, I can’t do any of that.

And I definitely shouldn’t. It’s strange, feeling this strongly about the well-being of one measly human. But in truth, I’ve become quite fond of Cosima in our short time together. Maybe it’s because I don’t spend much time with humans, but I find her humor refreshing, her kindness captivating, and her wide range of emotions infuriatingly confusing. I can’t stop myself from seeking her out.

And I can’t stop myself from hoping she decides to return home with us.

I sigh. I should send her to ride with Orophin. I’m paying too much attention to her, thinking too much, allowing myself to become distracted. But the idea of sending her away, of distancing her from my care, makes me to tense. I have a feeling I would be just as distracted if she weren’t behind me. Inwardly, I remind myself to focus on my surroundings, putting it into the frame of keeping my companions safe. The closer we get to the Imladris border—and thus their border patrols—the lower the likelihood of us running into more orcs. As it is, we are too far away for Elrond’s patrols for comfort and I urge myself to remain vigilant. I can’t take any chances.

There’s a noise to my right—just pebbles dislodged by the quick feet of a rabbit, but Cosima’s human senses can’t find the source of the moment. She jumps, clinging even tighter to me, and looks around wildly, breath racing. Without thinking, I take one hand from the reins and wrap it around the hand she holds in a fist against my stomach.

Elves don’t usually engage in physical contact outside of family and romantic partners. At most, warriors will clasp each other at the elbow briefly to commemorate a job well done or to celebrate a victory. But she is human, I reason, trying to puzzle out my strange response. Humans touch each other all the time—they hug each other, hold each other, press kisses to the cheeks of those they care for. Part of comforting a human is offering them a physical lifeline, something tangible and solid that they can hold on to.

“It’s alright,” I try to soothe, not holding out hope that I’m any good at it. The wardens I’ve dedicated my life to don’t usually require soothing. “It’s just a rabbit—I saw it running off. It climbed over the rocks and caused a few of the smaller ones to fall down the hill.”

I wish I could turn around and face her. I want to look into her eyes, study her face, and see if my words have had any effect. I want to know that the fear has left her, see the relief of security smooth the tension in her brow.

She takes a couple deep breaths, and I encourage myself to take them with her. It never hurts to settle one’s heart. Then, a pressure against my shoulder blade. She’s resting her head there, I realize with a start. I stiffen automatically, not at all used to the contact. I try to relax. If it’s what she needs, I can try it. Once I get over the initial shock, I don’t dislike this feeling at all—in fact, it’s quite nice to be here for her like this.

“Okay,” she breathes. She sounds exhausted.

I weigh my options. Could we chance stopping early tonight? Would the rest result in quicker progress tomorrow? No, I decide, knowing the original plan is the best. Each of us will feel better once we are securely inside Elrond’s borders. If that means some discomfort now, so be it.

With that in mind, I push Faervel to go even faster, wanting to race towards Imladris with all haste.

{***}

I see the tension in everyone’s shoulders when we stop to make camp. Each of them carries the weight of this morning’s attack, the human’s most visibly. Since the moment Cosima left my horse, she’s been at Alexander’s side. I was right about human comforting tactics—his arm hangs around her shoulders and she lays her head against his chest. The sight is strange, and a little disquieting. Elves are so unused to seeing such blatant displays of physical affection.

For his part, Alexander also looks quite shaken. His hair, usually well-kept, sticks in all directions and his eyes dart from side to side constantly, never finding rest. He clings to Cosima as tightly as she holds on to him. While the rest of us are seasoned in the unpleasantries of battle, this is their first encounter with violence—that they can recall, that is.

I clear my throat, drawing the attention of the camp. “I will stand first watch with Baranor. Everyone else, get some sleep.” I address my brothers directly, then. “I will wake you at the halfway point.”

We waste no time. Baranor draws his sword and takes the East side of camp. I mirror his stance on the West. We found a relatively secure spot for the night — a small valley with a clearing of grass backed up to a rocky slope of mountainside. There is only one entrance to where the others sleep, unless someone were to jump from the rocks above. To prevent this from happening, Baranor and I pick points high enough that we could see any attempts to either enter our camp or ambush one of our watch stations. Before I know it, the sun sinks over the horizon and we are plunged into darkness.

{***}

Baranor wakes the others, and once Rumil comes to take my spot, I trek the short distance to the center of our camp. I lay on the now unoccupied mat next to the mountainside — across the small area, Baranor has already passed into sleep. Just as I stretch out, getting comfortable, my eyes meet Cosima’s.

She stares at the rock across the small cleaning from her, expression distant and glazed.

I call her name quietly, getting her attention without waking Alexander or disturbing Baranor. She should have nodded off hours ago. “Can you not sleep?”

She shakes her head and, even from here, I can see the exhaustion in her eyes. “It’s silly,” she whispers. I raise my eyebrows, hoping she’ll explain. “I know we’re relatively safe. I know there are always two people on lookout and I know you all have plenty of weapons. But I’m still so scared.” Her voice wavers. “I can’t remember a time in my life when I was attacked like that. Every time I close my eyes I see those…things.” She bites out the word, shuddering. “What were they?”

I sigh. I should have known she wouldn’t find peaceful rest in her current state. I prop myself up on an elbow, trying to make myself seem as assured as possible. My wardens tend to feel more confident when I seem confident—maybe it will help her, too. “They were orcs, some of the most evil beings in this realm.”

“And they wanted to kill us?”

“Yes.”

“Why? What did we do?”

“Nothing,” I shrug, at a loss for the reasoning of those foul beasts. “They are bred for evil, they desire it above all else. If they have the chance to kill, they will take it.”

She shivers again and throws a look over her shoulder towards the entrance of the clearing. “That’s terrifying.”

“They will not get that close to you again,” I swear. I really shouldn’t. I can’t say for sure—they’re no way I can be absolutely positive an orc won’t attack her again. But I do know that as long as it is within my power, I will do everything possible to make what I just said the truth.

She raises an eyebrow dubiously and I know that, even in her fearful and tired state, she sees through the logic in my statement. Even though I was just questioning the validity of my words, I find myself with the overwhelming need to prove them to her—and to myself. I stand, pulling my mat with me, and step around her, dropping the mat between where she lays and the entrance to the clearing.

“There,” I nod, laying back on my mat. “Anything that wants to get to you will have to challenge me first.”

Breath hitches in her throat. Her lip quivers, a shine glints in her eyes. I freeze. Oh Valar, where did I go wrong this time? But when she addresses me—albeit in a shaky voice—she sounds pleased. “You don’t have to do that.”

Relieved that she has one, accepted my offer and two, doesn’t seem to resent me for it, I smile. “It’s my job. Now, please close your eyes and try to fall asleep. I will wake you if there is need.”

She wavers for a moment and I put a hint of my Marchwarden sternness behind the gaze I level back. The edges of her lips quirk into a tentative smile and her eyes slide shut. She pulls her—my— cloak tighter around her shoulders and, in a voice so quiet I can barely hear it, whispers, “thank you.”

I settle on my back, keeping my sword and bow within easy reach, as I do every night. And, though I just told Cosima to go to sleep, I stay awake longer than I intend, watching the stars and listening to the sounds of the mountains. She was right—there is much beauty here. There is no civilization for miles, no hints of light to obscure the vastness of the constellations. As an elfling, I used to love staring at the stars. Even in my early days of the guard and battle, I would pass long nights gazing at the sky. When did I stop? When did the love of beauty for beauty’s sake leave me?

I hear the deep, even breaths indicating a human has fallen asleep and know that Cosima has finally given in to her exhaustion. I follow not long after, the soft light of the stars falling away behind my closed eyes.

{***}

The day is marked by easy travel. By my estimate, we will reach Imladris sometime tomorrow evening. It cannot come quickly enough.

Just as the sun is starting to set, we come across a small cave I have used in the past when traveling with various companies. Orophin sees it too and gives a triumphant call from his spot in the line. A cave means we can chance a fire, which means we can have meat tonight—if we can catch it.

About five hundred feet from the cave, I dismount, signaling for Orophin to do the same. I hand the reins to Cosima, give Faervel a quick pat, and raise my voice loudly enough for the others to hear. “We’ll make sure the cave is clear—the rest of you, wait here.”

The nerves, which seemed dormant in Cosima for the majority of the day, creep back into her features. Her hold on the reins tightens. I attempt to reassure her. “We’ll be back in five minutes. Stay with the others.”

I want to stay longer, to stay by her side until she feels safe, but I know it will be better for everyone once we’re settled in the cave. So I draw my sword and join Orophin at the yawning entrance.

The cave is too small to be used long-term, so it is commonly claimed by travelers who only intend to stay the night. The ceiling is plenty high for humans, but as elves, Orophin and I must take care not to stretch too high. In some places, I can feel the smooth rock graze the top of my head, dragging strands of hair out of place. But aside from that mild annoyance, no threats lie inside and I hurry to return to the others and give them the good news.

Rumil, knowing the expression on my face, grins and hops down from Roch, setting the horse to graze while he excitedly enters the cave to drop his packs. I roll my eyes, though not without fondness, at my brother’s exuberance. I quicken my pace, eager to settle the others for the night and go hunting so we can have a proper meal. As soon as I set Cosima’s feet on the ground and put Faervel to graze, I can go in search of rabbits or squirrels.

I am a few feet from Cosima when Alexander steps into my line of sight. He reaches his arms up to his friend. She smiles warmly at him, places her hands on his shoulders, and lets him ease her down from the horse. It’s a bit jerky, honestly, and I worry that her feet hit the ground with too much force. One has to be careful when helping another down from a higher place—if not, the person could suffer injury. Careless.

“Alexander,” I call. He looks put out but nonetheless inclines his head in my direction. “Leave your supplies in the cave and then meet me out here. I am taking you with me to hunt.”

He sputters. “What? No! I’m tired and I don’t even want to learn how to hunt. Take one of your brothers.”

I feel my eyes narrow. “Regardless if you would like to face the facts or not, you are in this world. And as such, you will need to learn skills to aid your time here, however long that may be. Cosima has learned how to care for the horses and ride and scout her surroundings. You will learn to hunt.” The human tries to protest again, and I raise my chin, none too pleased with having to justify my decision. “As long as you are under my care you will follow my orders. Am I clear?”

Beside him, Cosima’s eyes grow wide. She darts her gaze between myself and Alexander, watching our exchange. I raise an eyebrow at the man. It will not be me who breaks first. I have centuries of practice.

Predictably, Alexander cracks, breaking my gaze and nodding stiffly. He pulls away from Cosima and stalks into the cave, taking a few bags with him.

Baranor passes me on his way up the path—I’d nearly forgotten he was here. He lowers his voice to a volume the humans won’t detect. “He is not one of your wardens, Haldir.”

“As long as he travels in my company, he travels under my command,” I grit back, more frustration in my tone than is necessary. I work to push the emotion aside and stride forward, dealing with Faervel while I wait for Alexander.

Cosima hasn’t left. She stands, dwarfed by Faervel’s tall frame, gently brushing out his coat. There’s tension in her shoulders and I approach her almost hesitantly. I think I angered her.

She quickly confirms my suspicions.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to him.” She doesn’t take her eyes from my horse.

I purse my lips. I just need to make her understand. “He was being insubordinate.”

“Okay, but he’s not your subordinate,” she shoots back, voice rising in irritation.

I don’t quite know what to say. These humans don’t know how my job works, so their reaction is to be expected….But even Baranor commented on my behavior…was I wrong? Even if I did perhaps misuse my tone, I still can’t have someone openly refusing to do what I say. It’s a matter of security. Say he disobeyed me in the heat of battle? Someone could pay for his choice with their life. I can’t allow situations to pass now that would embolden him to disobey me later.

Cosima sighs, shaking her head. When she speaks, her voice is tight with disapproval. “I’ll finish the horses. You get to your hunt.”

I swallow. It seems I’ve angered her to the point where she wishes to cast me from her presence. I must respect that, then. “I will send Rumil to guard you.”

She nods once, still not looking at me.

I spare her one last glance then make towards the cave, feeling very unsure of myself. As Marchwarden, I’ve learned to make difficult, sometimes unpopular, decisions. People’s reaction to them usually doesn’t bother me…but something about the way Cosima wouldn’t even look at me, the frustration in her tone…it doesn’t sit well.

Rumil is already at the mouth of the cave, headed outside with a snack for Roch. I instruct him to stay with Cosima while I am gone, and he agrees easily. The two of them have been friends from the start. I’d wager he has never upset her as I have.

Alexander is waiting, too, looking annoyed. I try to remind myself to be nicer towards him, but can’t quite manage it. Something about his demeanor just irks me. But the hunting excursion will be good, I remind myself. It will allow me to get a better read on this human, to figure out where he stands and what his motivations are. With that in mind, I jerk my head to the rocks, calling him forward. “Let’s go.”

{***}

I don’t take Alexander far, but we do have to leave the noise of camp to find animals suitable for food. The human trudges behind me, probably scaring away every rodent within a mile. Why must the race of man be so loud?

“Roll your foot from heel to toe when you walk rather than stomping down,” I instruct. To my surprise, he actually follows my advice. He’s still not as silent as an elf, but there is definitely an improvement.

A silence settles between us. When he breaks it, there is a vulnerability in his voice I did not expect to hear. “Is Cosima really going to be okay?”

Baranor had assured me of the fact and I know from my years of battle that the wound is not severe, so I am confident in my answer. “Yes. I think more damage was done to her feelings than her arm. She takes things quite deeply to heart. It will take time for those scars to heal.”

I’ve offended him. He scoffs, expression morphing into a glare. “And that’s bad?”

Now, I grit my teeth. He seems always on the prowl for some reason to dislike me, and I don’t appreciate him twisting my words about Cosima to use against me. I throw his accusation right back. “I am not the one questioning her intelligence and calling her naive.”

“That’s taken out of context!”

“And in what context are your words favorable?”

He seethes, and I find a strand of amusement in the differences between our demeanors. I stand calm and cool as ever while he glares up at me, mouth pulled into a grimace, face going hot in anger.

“You know what,” he grits out, hands clenching into fists. “Don’t go on defending her. Don’t get too attached. Because after yesterday, I’ve got no doubt in my mind that I’m getting out of here. And Cosima’s coming with me.”

I scoff. “You cannot force her.”

“I won’t have to.” He exhales, an assured serenity settling on his face. For the first time since our argument began, I feel wary. “That attack broke whatever spell you all have put on her. She’ll leave willingly. I guarantee it.”

Maybe it’s the arrogant twist in his smile, maybe it’s the stress of the day finally hitting me, maybe it’s just because he’s been an ass since the day he arrived and I would like nothing more than to knock him to the ground and teach him to have some respect. Whatever the reason, I feel the cold dread creeping through my bones colliding with a white-hot anger that sears through my chest. It takes everything in me not to let the composed mask slip from my face.

Despite my efforts, Alexander knows he’s hit his mark. He can tell he’s gotten a reaction out of me, and this pleases him to no end. He waves a hand forward, gesturing to the wide expanse of the path before us. “Lead on, Marchwarden. People need to eat.”

I want to challenge him.

But that is not respectable behavior of a leader, nor polite treatment of a human under my protection. So I call on every ounce of maturity and discipline I possess and turn on my heel, continuing the hunt.

And though we have good fortune in our search and I should be pleased, I am too focused on Alex’s promise to share in the enjoyment.

Cosima choosing to leave is a very real possibility.

And that hurts me more than it should.

A/n Thanks for reading! So it looks like we’re having some ~developments~ -- what do you think?! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile! Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list :)

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[mianmiansimp]

mdzs au: the one with wen xu (pt 1)

>>wwx has his bisexual epiphany much sooner in life bc Reasons

>>so when he starts crushing on lwj Immediately at cr, he knows it too

>>anyway: sometime pre-cloud recesses, wx and wwx cross paths and wwx is being his usual mischievous self

>>he's very dramatic and flirty and running around on roofs

>>wx is like Hey You're Cute but doesn't catch his name

>>wwx is oblivious so he didn't know who wx was lol

>>they cross paths a few more times

>>wwx just knows wx as 'that one gongzi i see sometimes'

>>then cr happens and they meet again when wwx is heading back to cr with his alcohol

>>wx is like my how charming

>>the next morning the wens show up and wc pisses everyone off

>>and then wwx is telling him off and wc gets pissed and tries to fight wwx while also insulting his status

>>and jc is like EXCUSE YOU and draws his sword bc i'm a sucker for protective jc and will throw in as much yunmeng shuangjie as i want

>>but then wx shows up and tells off wc (bc of wwx) and tells everyone to calm down

>>wx learns wwx's name, wwx learns who 'that one gongzi i see sometimes' is, only one of them is happy with the revelation

>>wx is being weird and oily to everyone and the lans begrudgingly accept the 'apology'

>>wx is publicly weird to wwx, wwx is publicly uncomfy, jc is publicly offended and pissed and defensive and also has an inkling of where wx's head is at

>>cue jc aggressively glaring at wens and shielding wwx from them

>>nhs, who's more aware of what's happening than anyone else bc nhs, helps

>>doesn't stop wwx from adopting wn as a bestie but wn is a kitten so it's ok

>>cr arc is largely the same, wangxian shenanigans, yunmeng shuangjie shenanigans, alcohol shenanigans, you know the drill

>>except for two major things

>>one - wwx has been crushing on lwj since day one but he Knows it

>>and he gets sad sometimes when lwj rejects him

>>so jc is not only angry at the wens but he's angry at lwj's audacity too

>>lwj, who hasn't a clue about anything:

>>two - wx sometimes shows up randomly to 'check up'

>>he isn't, he just drops by to make wwx uncomfy via unsolicited gifts and flirting

>>jc usually passive aggressively intervenes

>>or nhs makes some excuse that is usually 'jc wants to see you'

>>there's an incident during a wx visit where wwx panics bc he really doesn't want to deal with him

>>and essentially bolts from the vicinity and runs right into lwj

>>lwj almost starts telling off wwx but he sees quite clearly that wwx is Not Ok

>>and then they hear wx approaching and wwx basically begs lwj to Get Him Out

>>lwj dislikes wx far more than he dislikes acknowledging his affections for wwx

>>so they quickly run into and hide in a room

>>cue bonding moment where lwj and wwx have a Talk and lwj says they're friends for the first time

>>and then immediately goes silent bc wwx is looking at him with complete adoration and he has to force himself not to kiss him lol

>>this is also the point where lwj has it confirmed that wwx very much does not like wx's presence

>>which is how lwj joins the defend wwx against wx's advances club

>>jc isn't happy about it bc wwx is mooning for lwj still but he lets it slide

>>wn actually joined the club accidentally and discretely

>>jc's like why couldn't wwx get This wen to crush on him i like him so much better???

>>lwj vinegar moment + flustered wn who just thinks wwx is really cool and nice

>>wq catches wind of what's going on and is worried about wn's involvement

>>but also greatly dislikes wx and doesn't want some random innocent boy to suffer

>>which is how she too accidentally joins the club

>>mianmian joins too but loudly bc she's friends with wwx and lwj and also wx sucks

>>jzx is friends with mianmian so he gets dragged in

>>and he might be an arrogant prat atm but he's not a bad guy and wx's behavior is very despicable

>>jzx has some um Revelations about himself and his family

>>and accidentally becomes an honorary member of the club

>>they're all kinda friends now, it truly sucks, thinks jzx with a small smile

>>xuanli engagement is not broken/salvaged much earlier on bc of this whole

thing

>>anyway that's how all the major sects' youth became so closely entwined

>>lqr was very proud that his lectures enacted firm inter sect relationships

>>lxc is just egging on wangxian while also becoming an honorary member of the club

>>waterborne abyss and stuff still happens

>>jc is even angrier at the wens and straight up completely hides wwx the next time wx comes around so he doesn't even catch a glimpse

>>wx is not happy, especially when lwj is silently passive aggressive the whole time

>>cr study ends, there's this whole lingering wangxian moment when they say their goodbyes

>>wwx and lwj are close now but also lwj can sort of admit it instead of shoving it under years of repression and gay panic

>>lwj agrees to visit at lotus pier and wwx looks so enamored that jc gags and drags him away

>>mianmian snickers and pokes lwj in jest, who actually pokes her back

>>lxc is so proud, his brother has Friends

>>wx is a bit more careful around lotus pier, but he does visit once

>>jfm greets him and is very polite but yzy is very blunt and pissed

>>jc upon getting home had immediately spilled all the info on the wx thing

>>yzy doesn't like wwx but she hates the main wen and wx was being vv disrespectful

>>so she kinda tells wx that wwx isn't here (not a lie, he's on a nighthunt) and that he can go jump a cliff now thanks

>>wx is rather irritated when he leaves

>>comes back again on a later date, but this is the day that the cr friends are all hanging out

>>which isn't really an issue bc wwx is a social butterfly, it's part of what wx likes about him, obviously he has friends

>>but he sees the way wwx looks at lwj, and happens upon a moment where they're alone

>>he is Not Happy

>>in the meanwhile the cr friends are all chilling together and making fun of jzx flustering around jyl and eating lotus pods and whatever

>>yzy for once is like not overcome with irrational rage at wwx's presence bc he did something right for once in her eyes

>>so wwx gets some peace of mind at lotus pier

>>madam jin is also very delighted at the xuanli progress and approves wwx for enacting it

>>no one outside of jiangs + cr know why exactly xuanli are doing so well

>>so madam jin assumes wwx just kinda did some wingman stuff and doesn't know about the wx thing

>>anyway, wangxian is progressing quite nicely, and jc is all the more miserable for it

>>jzx kinda doesn't care lol, the rest of the club are delighted by the entertainment, yzy is further not angry at wwx bc wangxian engagement = lan-jiang alliance = advantageous

>>fast forward and we're at the discussion conference

>>jc is scowlier than usual and is literally holding wwx's hand the whole time

>>and wwx is like bro ty and ily but also this is a bit much

>>jc eventually lets go of his hand but he is never more than a few inches away from wwx's side

>>the state of wangxian at this time means we have wangxian blatantly and publicly mooning and everyone's like :eyes:

>>wx is not happy, shows up and immediately starts seeking out wwx, everyone is uncomfy

>>jc at one point grabs wwx and shoves him into the middle of all the jiang disciples

>>kinda doing that zebra camouflage thing but with jiang disciples lol

>>whenever it looks like wx is gonna ask him about wwx he crosses his arms and scowls severely

>>wx takes his seat very unhappily and the discussion conference proceeds as normal ig

>>but the friends are all taking part in the hunt together

>>wwx and lwj have a lil competition for who snags the most shots

>>lots of flirting during the competition, much to jzx and jc's chagrin

>>wn is just :pleading_face: the whole time but he does excellently and gives everyone a run for their money

>>the wc thing goes a lil differently in that wc is more incensed about wwx's existence bc he knows wx likes wwx

>>targets wwx, it backfired bc of lwj, wc leaves in a huff

>>lwj closely attaches himself to wwx after that, jc is pissed bc that's 2 wens who are making problems about wwx

>>the ribbon incident goes a lil differently

>>it happens after the competition, in front of all the sects

>>wx basically

goes oh your ribbon is crooked and fixes it gently and smiles at lwj and lwj says nothing, just quietly nods and thanks him

>>lqr approaches qi deviation, the sects are shocked, wwx is oblivious, lwj is smug, lxc and the friends are all metaphorically eating popcorn, wx is mad, wrh doesn't care, wq is worried bc wx

>>wx actually corners wwx at one point during a banquet when wwx's alone

>>interestingly, it's jzx who steps in to save the day

>>wwx doesn't need saving tbh but there's sociopolitics to consider + he's a lil scared of wx's persistence tbh

>>and he has a crisis bc on the one hand wwx can just run his mouth and hope for the best except he realizes that wx Likes when he runs his mouth

>>so yea jzx steps in and says something about jyl and wwx is like ahaha duty calls again and yeets

>>jzx just says compliments about jyl as they walk back to the jiang under the pretense of wanting to discuss the engagement

>>wwx reluctantly decides he's ok

>>the jiang keep a firm grip on wwx for the rest of the conference after that

>>jyl uses the shijie card to her advantage to get away with dragging wwx with her everywhere

>>the conference ends and wwx is relieved

>>oh btw wwx placed first by a small margin, lwj and wn following, then jc and jzx tied

>>so the sects are leaving and ofc wwx has to say goodbye to lwj

>>and lwj is like what is your request bc you won

>>and wwx is almost like kiss me but then he Doesn't ok

>>so instead wwx is like lemme think of something interesting :wink: to cover his pining

>>and lwj says mn and Smiles at him and wwx melts on the spot

>>wx catches the interaction and is very unhappy

>>fast forward to the burning of cr

>>there's a reason why wx did it personally, and targeted lwj especially

>>fast forward a bit again, wwx is a lil mopey bc his letter from lwj should've come a few days ago

>>they're pining pen pals bc ofc they are smh :rolling_eyes:

>>at this point, news of cr's destruction hasn't spread to lotus pier yet

>>jc is annoyed and yeets him into the lake and makes him swim off the pining

>>cue yunmeng jiang lake shenanigans

>>and then mf wx shows up to personally deliver the invitation to the wen indoctrination

>>jfm and yzy simply Do Not acknowledge wwx's existence at lotus pier in front of him

>>it's a very tense but quick conversation

>>and then wx leaves and hears wwx and heads in the direction of the latter's voice

>>he gets to the lake to see the jiang disciple swimming in the lake, but no wwx

>>bc jyl knew he had come and quickly run over to the lake to warn and hide wwx

>>jc perched himself on a roof to watch wx and let them know when he was gone

>>that meal they had in cql? yea it goes differently this time around

>>it's mostly yzy hissing at the wens and also having a conundrum over whether or not wwx should go

>>jc votes no, wwx votes shut up jc i'm coming with you

>>jfm concedes, jc is irate, wwx and jc go to the indoctrination

>>but jc makes wwx promise to not ever leave his side

>>and wwx is like that's kinda the whole point?? but ok

>>and then ofc that whole opening scene at nightless city happens

>>what with them standing around and then bam an injured lwj

>>ft the cr friends being all fhkjhkjsghk (/neg) internally

>>except wwx, he's very open about his concern

>>wc shows up, spends half the time glaring at wwx

>>he was supposed to be make it hell for lwj

>>but quite frankly he'd be happy if lwj snatched wwx

>>he very much dislikes his brother's infatuation with wwx

>>so yea it's roughly the same, those first few days

>>except wn secretly visits the disciples

>>slips snacks, gives info, exchanges messages between them, and treats lwj

>>wq finds out, scolds him, and then does the same, mostly treatment

>>and then the dungeon day comes

>>by which i mean that day wwx ended up in the dungeons with the dog thing

>>it goes the same as usual, except wc is particularly harsh, and is focused on wwx

>>so it happens sooner, and only wwx is involved

>>spends the night with the wolf thing, wn comes, yk the drill

>>except he knocks out at one point and wx gets him

>>and he wakes up

in a room and wq and wn are treating him

>>he's quickly given a coded warning

>>and then wx comes

>>wc had been forced out of leading the indoctrination and someone relatively competent is in his place

>>wx doesn't really let wwx go back tho

>>just makes wwx stay with him and basically invades his privacy and harasses him

>>for like. quite some time.

>>wwx also meets wrh a few times and it is. not fun.

>>wrh makes thinly veiled threats about war and attacking lotus pier and stuff

>>and wx reveals he was the one who requested and took charge of cr burning

>>and wwx is angry at wx but then wx gets angry and snaps threats

>>and wwx quiets and realizes wx is relentless

>>and that his connections are putting ppl he cares about at risk

>>it all kinda piles up and wx's insistence gets to his head

>>and then the bell scene (which started all this) happens

>>it might seem kinda ooc this whole thing but like

>>sexual trauma is very different from standard child abuse/classic asian toxicity

>>and you have to consider wwx's position as he has to put up with wx's everything

>>am i projecting? probably, but my au my choices

>>so the bell scene begins with all the heirs and their entourages gathered at that. place

>>idk what it's called but that place from cql where wc was lecturing

>>wc's substitute indoctrinator is like so. y'all can go home now. here's your swords.

>>and everyone's like omg????? but also cr friends are like ok where's wwx :upside_down:

>>and it's a very complicated moment

>>and then they give suibian to jc

>>and he almost kills someone bc he thinks they killed wwx

>>and then they're like no he's alive he just won't need that :upside_down:

>>jc is like WHAT does that even MEAN

>>and it's about to be a whole thing but then wwx shows up

>>and it's all ok for half a second

>>bc yes he's here but he is very obviously not ok

>>and it Shows, wwx is doing such a bad job hiding how not ok he is

>>cr friends are like. what did they do. who am i killing.

>>so now we enter - The Bell Exchange

>>wwx comes forward and (very poorly) tries to lighten the mood and tease jc and is like aw did you miss me

>>jc who was very much terrified is just like yes ofc come here Now let's go home

>>and wwx has this look on his face that's summed up as love and affection but also deep apology and secrecy

>>he slowly goes to jc and his hands are shaky as he takes off his bell and grabs jc's hands to give it to him

>>and wwx is very vague about it he's just like i won't be going back it's ok you're all free to go now i'm making sure of it go back home be safe

>>and jc is having the nth meltdown rn bc wwx what did you do

>>nhs has an idea of the gist, and all the c friends are very concerned

>>and then wen xu shows up and wwx does this silent flinch but in his bones and straightens up

>>and wx is mocking the others and stuff and then wraps an arm around a very uncomfortable wwx and is like

>>"you should be grateful to my fiance for his generous nature"

>>wwx is very obviously not having a good time and is not ok with this

>>he looks like he's going to launch himself from a cliff (hehehe) to avoid this

>>everyone is silent for a minute as they realize what happened

>>a lot of the disciples here were at cr indoctrination

>>so they know at least somewhat of wx's pursual of wwx and the unrequited feelings

>>and it becomes obvious that wwx exchanged something - his freedom, hand in marriage, etc - to set all the disciples free

>>jc draws sandu and is about to go for wx's head bc how Dare he

>>but wwx stops him and tells him very firmly but desperately to not try anything, just go, tell shijie i'm sorry, it'll be ok

>>lwj does that death grip on his sword, 2 seconds away from taking wx's head himself

>>jzx is having lots of feelings about this and a lot aren't nice

>>especially with the weird sort of parallels as far as betrothals

>>also he kinda likes wwx?? they're kinda friends?? and they're brother-in-laws to be anyway

>>and even despite all that, the whole situation just Sucks and jzx is kinda an airhead but he's actually pretty noble

>>mianmian is

like So offended and enraged on behalf of everyone she's ready to throw hands

>>nhs is half horrified for his friend and half cold rage and plotting

>>what really worsens the situations is just how bad wwx is taking it

>>bc he always covers up his pain and worries, and very well at that

>>the fact that he can barely even fake a smile now, and has resolved to outright desperate pleading, not even teasing anyone, says a Lot about how bad things were while he was gone

>>they have suspicions about what wx might have done to wwx while they were alone

>>tl;dr: cr friends kinda have an idea of what wx has done and really want him dead

>>but wwx is forcing them out, and eventually they all do leave, miserably

>>they don't know what had happened for them to be let go with their swords and without consequences

>>and they don't want wwx suffering for their (not really helpful atm) stubbornness

>>jc is stiff and clenching his jaw the entire way home, trying to figure out ways to get wwx out

>>lwj is drowning in his emotions as he goes back to the burnt cr

>>mianmian, jzx, nhs are having very complicated thought processes about everything

>>nhs actually goes with lwj to cr first, to make sure he doesn't do anything dumb and to be a friend

>>drops him off, and eventually heads out after a few days (lqr is appraised of the situation)

>>and lo and behold, he happens to find lxc on his way home, and brings big bro lan back to cr

[ main . ao3 ]

[tr1ckntr3at]

hey!! can you list at least 5 of your ocs? - 🐀anon

Ofc!! I made pinterest aesthetic boards for them.

Celeste Lorenta

Full Name: Celeste Mary Lorenta

Nicknames: Cel, Celery, Loren

Age: whatever u want it to be, havent decided yet lololol-

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Birthday: 6/08

Species: Human

Powers: Puppet Strings

Ethnicity: Hispanic

Languages Spoken: A bit of spanish, mostly english, very fluent in chinese for some reason

Hair color: White

Eye color: Purple

Powers: Puppet strings

First Impression: Celeste is hyper and can be kind of loud. She's also super fast and...has a lot of money, for some reason.

Once you get to know them: She struggles with impulse control and has a bit of ADHD. Celeste does care about what others think, just tries not to.

Default Expression: ??? Idk, shes always sarcastic

MBTI Personality Type: ENFP i think-

Extrovert, Introvert, or Ambivert?: Extrovert, all the way. maybe.

Habits: fidgeting with random stuff, humming, skip-walking (skipping and walking), laughing at random things (example: person drops a coin, she laughs)

Pet Peeves: people walking slow, being interrupted, being corrected

Likes: Mushrooms, cats, frogs, music, horror, true crime, insects

Favorite Food: Apple crisp

Favorite Animal: Frog

Favorite Colors: Pink, black, white, orange, or purple

Favorite Movie Genre: Horror

Favorite Style of Music: Anything dreamcore

Least Favorite Food: Apple pie (for some reason)

Least Favorite Animal: Dogs, too loud

Least Favorite Color: Green

Least Favorite Movie Genre: Romance

Hobbies: Loves collecting random things, like mushrooms, leaves, vintage coins

Leif Lazuli

Full Name: Leif Carlen Lazuli

Nicknames: Leafy, Lazu, Lazzy, L

Age: havent decided lmao

Gender: male

Sexuality: Bi, ace-aro

Birthday: 1/12

Species: idk, neko???

Powers: Enhanced hearing and seeing

Languages Spoken: English, German, French

Height: 6'4

Weight: 118 lbs.

Hair Color: Dark black-ish brown

Eye Color:Golden eyes

Skin Color: Ivory

Battle Marks(Scars, missing body parts, etc.): Scar on eyebrow

Type of teeth(Normal, fangs,etc): Fangs

First Impression: Rude, super blunt, doesn't care if he hurts other people, blah blah blah.

Once you get to know them: He's a bit nicer around you (if he even tolerates you, that is, but if he is nicer, he does tolerate you.). Every now and then, Leif offers to help you out with things. He's still rude tho >:(

MBTI Personality Type: ISTJ

Extrovert, Introvert, or Ambivert?: Ambivert

Habits: Pen/pencil tapping, nail tapping, knee bouncing, being stuck in thought, talking too little

Fears: Being alone, failure

Likes: Insects, animals, nature, crystals, science, music

Favorite Food: Pavlova

Favorite Animal: Butterfly

Favorite Color: Purple, Black, white

Favorite Movie Genre: Mystery

Torinne Vixen

Full Name: Torinne Calip Vixen

Nicknames: Tori, Tor, Rinne, Vixie

Age: idk

Gender: Nonbinary

Sexuality: Pansexual

Birthday: 10/25

Species: Ghost

Powers: Walking through walls, invisibility, enhanced hearing

Height: 4'9

Weight: 94 lbs.

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Brown

Skin Color: Transparent, pale porcelain

Battle Marks(Scars, missing body parts, etc.): Small scar on lip

Type of teeth(Normal, fangs,etc): Normal teeth

First Impression: Usually, Tori is super timid and you end up starting the convo.

Once you get to know them: They're a really nice person. They struggle a bit with social anxiety. Torinne helps out a lot, but only ever rarely does anything for themself.

MBTI Personality Type: INFP

Extrovert, Introvert, or Ambivert?: Introvert

Habits: Fidgeting, zoning out, knee bouncing, pen spinning, being disorganized, stuttering

Fears: Fire, heights, sharp objects

Pet Peeves: Being interrupted, when people talk too loudly or talk too much, people chewing loudly

Likes: Ghosts, frogs, animals, nature, witchcraft, crystals, fashion, history

Dislikes: Loud noises, arguing, being mocked, violence

Favorite Food: Tanghulu

Favorite Animal: Bearded dragon

Favorite Color: Sage green

Favorite Movie Genre: Horror

Favorite Book Genre: Fantasy, mystery

Favorite Style of Music: Indie

Least Favorite Food: Pies. any pies.

Least Favorite Animal: Shark

Least Favorite Color: Blue

Hobbies: Jewelry making, spell casting, collects crystals, goes on walks, reads, doodles, sings sometimes

Mark Le Torneau

Full Name: Mark Le Jaune Torneau

Nicknames: None, but you can make some for him since i couldnt think of anything lololol-

Age: idk

Gender: Male

Sexuality: "I'M NOT GAY" (Omni)

Birthday: 6/9

Species: Human

Powers: Temperature control (Example: can melt metal)

Height: 5'10

Weight: 129

Hair Color: Dark blue-ish-black

Eye Color: Green

Skin Color: Ivory

Battle Marks(Scars, missing body parts, etc.): Scars on back, one on left shoulder

Type of teeth(Normal, fangs,etc): Normal teeth

First Impression: Mark is super flirty, has good humor. Careful what you say around him though, even if it's a joke.

Once you get to know them: He's actually a nicer but also more sensitive guy. Mark..struggles to control himself from flirting as a joke. He just thinks it's funny. He also teaches a middle school history class.

MBTI Personality Type: INFJ

Extrovert, Introvert, or Ambivert?: Ambivert

Likes: Music, nature, history, science, crime cases, art, travelling, books, astronomy, astrology

Dislikes: Loud noises, arguments, being mocked, bugs, being yelled at

Favorite Food: Blueberry dump cake

Favorite Animal: Husky

Favorite Color: Blue

Favorite Movie Genre: Mystery

Favorite Book Genre: Fantasy, horror

Least Favorite Food: Blueberry yogurt

Least Favorite Animal: Cats (he's scared of them lmao)

Least Favorite Color: Brown

Hobbies: Reading, teaching, cooking, painting, archery

Barrett Grimsbane

Full Name: Barrett Albert Grimsbane

Nicknames: Berry/Barrie, Grim

Age:idk

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Birthday: 1/15

Species: Human

Powers: Ice creation

Height: 6'7

Weight: 132 lbs.

Hair Color: White

Eye Color: White-ish silver

Skin Color: Pale Ivory

Battle Marks(Scars, missing body parts, etc.): Scar on the back of his neck

Type of teeth(Normal, fangs,etc): Normal

First Impression: You can never know how he's truly feeling. Barrett shows no emotions on the outside. He's just...him. But he's...nice. Maybe.

Once you get to know them: Barrett actually has a resting bitch face. And he also has good humor. Suprisingly, he knows a lot about video games for some unknown reason

MBTI Personality Type: INTJ

Extrovert, Introvert, or Ambivert?: Ambivert

Habits: Playing the piano, humming, painting, gaming, making cat plushies, cooking

Fears: Being alone, rejection, failure, fire, dying (but not death, just doesn't want to die)

Pet Peeves: When people talk too much or too loudly, people chewing too loud, walking too slow, or just being annoying in general.

That's all! Sorry this took so long, rat 🐀 nonny! I was thinking of which OCs to put since I have so many. Sorry! Hope you like this.

-- Cai

[katfett]

ROXANNE (MOD!HVITSERK X OFC)

A/N: Will have multiple parts. Essentially Vikings meets Sons of Anarchy. This just happened when I was trying to write to my other stuff.

HAVEN’T TAGGED ANYONE, IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A TAG-LIST, HOLLA AT ME.

Summary: Roxanne gets stood up at the altar, instead of a reception, her girlfriends take her bar hopping for beers, dancing and singing. She got more than she bargained for in the form of Hvitserk when they wind up in the bar of Lothbrok Auto, the clubhouse of the Vikings MC Mother Charter.

Warnings: Smut.

Tag List: @bloooferladyy

Music: There is a playlist I listened to while I wrote this, from the obvious ones to some weird ones just cause they help me focus.

Playlist found here.

CATCH UP: PART TWO PART THREE

***

PART I

Bar hopping hadn’t exactly been on her to do list. Heck, her to do list today consisted of getting married. It hadn’t been checked off. Roxanne had been embarrassed when she realized he had not shown up. Cold feet had been the excuse from his family. Yeah right.

“Come on Roxy, no dwelling on it,” Tatiana said, taking hold of Roxanne’s elbow. Her friend had been quick to act earlier when they had realized she wasn’t getting hitched. Her bridesmaids had promised her a night of bar hopping and karaoke.

That’s where Roxanne found herself, in some bar in a small country town, about to be dragged onto the stage to sing some terrible pop song. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as she needed to be for this. Stage fright was such a bitch.

“Can we just go do shots at the bar?” Roxanne pleaded, trying to turn and book it to the bar. Tatiana wouldn’t let her go and she whined as Sally helped to turn her. Fiona helped them drag her up onto the stage, even as Roxanne protested the entire way. It probably looked hilarious to the people watching.

***

Hvitserk watched as Ivar lined up his shot. They were playing pool in the back, Ubbe was locked in a kiss with Torvi as Sigurd watched the game. He’d opted out, disliking the way Ivar always managed to beat him. Hvitserk turned and motioned for a sweet butt to hand him his beer. She did so. Hvitserk took in the main floor of the bar.

Ragnar’s place hadn’t changed much over the years, Bjorn had seen to that. Being born to the founding member of the Vikings MC had its perks. They were patched young; it was the only life they knew, and they embraced it wholeheartedly. It gave them time like this, where most of the other patched members kept their distance.

It was a little more packed than usual, they’d been celebrating Floki’s release and return to the fold so there were people mixed in with the club he didn’t know. The bar operated like any other, until you passed the bathrooms. The back corridor into the members rooms beyond was off limits to non-club folk. There usually wasn’t an issue with Whitehair usually acting as a bouncer back there.

He chugged most of his beer as he watched the stage, the karaoke thing had been his mother’s idea. It’d been dead most of the night, but he quirked an eyebrow as he watched three women pull another up onto the stage. They weren’t sweet butts, he knew them all, by name and cup size. He smirked as he watched the three brunettes shove a microphone into the blonde’s hand as they kept her in place.

“Hvitserk,” Ivar called, signaling it was his turn but Hvitserk waved him off, leaning against the railing that separated the pool tables from the main floor. He settled in, nodding as the sweet butt switched out his empty bottle for another one.

This was going to be good.

***

Roxanne growled at her friends. They were the best, and the worst. The microphone in her hands was awkward, she could just drop it, but she realized that would likely turn more attention on them. Her scrambling to get off the stage likely had been a sight. Tatiana had body blocked her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and dragging her back.

The three of them were pointing to the machine where the songs to select from were resting. Riley rolled her eyes. She looked at the songs - Teenage Dream by Katy Perry, fuck nope. I want it that way by backstreet boys, eh, fun but this bar didn’t seem like it would enjoy that. Her eyes scrolled across the next few songs and then her eyes lit up. Oh, that one.

Wild Thing by Tone Loc.

She smirked, if they were going to make her do this, she was going to get them back. Tatiana, who had a sixth sense for when Roxanne was going to fuck with their plans, reached out and hit a different song. Apparently, she’d been taking too long.

Gaping, offended and dramatic as fuck when drunk, Roxanne slapped her hand looking at her incredulously. The beat to Rihanna’s Rude Boy kicked in and Roxanne couldn’t help herself, her hips started moving with the beat. She was going to kill Tati for this. Her friends loved this song, Roxanne loved booty shaking to this song. Not singing it.

Tati wrapped herself around Roxanne and kissed her cheek before forcing her to move with her and Roxanne almost blushed at the whistles and catcalls as they moved in tandem. They had danced many a times to this. Grinding against one another wasn’t the embarrassing part, they had an audience. A bar full of guys in leather.

***

Hvitserk was grinning as he watched the four women grinding and singing, albeit a little terribly, to the song. This was far more entertaining than he’d thought. The blonde and one of the brunettes were grinding against one another. They got lost in the song, not even singing as they nearly put on a whole other show for the boys. The club members were cheering the four on. Hvitserk glanced across at Sigurd.

“Hey bro, you got the music lined up?” When Sigurd frowned at him, Hvitserk pointed to the four on the karaoke stage. “Who needs strippers when you can have drunk city girls.”

Sigurd laughed. Ivar rolled his eyes from where he was engaged in a conversation with Ubbe. “I think I can manage something.”

***

Okay, Roxanne had to admit she was having a blast. The song ended and so did the dancing - to a loud chorus of boos. Instead of the next karaoke song starting up though a heavy rock song filled the bar.

Roxanne grinned at the familiar beat. She loved this song, especially since it shared her name. Fuck it, it was meant to be her wedding night, she would’ve been having her first dance right about now. May as well dance like the single woman she was.

***

Hvitserk was hypnotized. He had been watching the blonde bump and grind to every stripper song he could pump Sigurd to play. She was shorter than her friends, her denim shorts fitting snugly, showing off the curve of her ass as she swung her hips. Her tank top was gaping at the sides, revealing a white lace bra. Long curly hair was damp and frizzy. Hvitserk wanted to bury his fingers into it as he rode her. The sweet butt at his side had gotten bored when he didn’t show her a hint of leaving with her to his rooms in back and turned her attention to Sigurd, joining him by the controls for the music.

Hvitserk finished off the last of his beer as the girls finally tired and started to climb from their stage. A few of the boys helped them down.

Hvitserk ducked under the railing, setting his empty bottle down and running a hand across his jaw as he watched the petite blonde move through the boys heading for the bar looking like she was on a mission. He grinned, perfect.

***

Roxanne leaned over the bar, the woman behind it nodded at her as she asked for water. She was buzzing. The combination of drinking and dancing was doing all the right things to make her happy.

“Hey Hvit,” the bartender greeted with a smile and Roxanne’s brows furrowed. The woman was looking behind her. Turning, Roxanne was taken back by the man standing incredibly close. Hot damn. He was a good head or so taller than her; he was fair, a little bit of stubble and a mop of dirty blonde hair braided back from his face, tied into a man bun at the back and the sides shaved. He had tattoos covering his neck and arms. He was staring at her and Roxanne was all too aware of his deep blue green eyes. It was intense. She didn’t know it was possible in real life for someone to fuck you with their eyes, but he seemed to be doing just that and Roxanne felt a shiver creep down her spine.

Hello hunky biker boy.

The telltale leather vest over his white shirt gave him away. Roxanne smiled at him, not saying a word, and turned back to grab the bottle of water on the bar. If her dancing hadn’t dehydrated her, he certainly had.

“You sure like to grind these hips.”

Another shiver crept along her as he spoke, his deep, raspy voice accented and showing through. It was the hand resting on said hips of Roxanne’s that got her attention; strong fingers dug gently into her hip as the other moved so he could lean against the bar and by default her, given she was standing between them.

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” she said and managed to dislodge him by grabbing her water and ducking under his arm. Tati and the girls were across the sea of bodies.

“Wanna give me a private one?”

Roxanne actually laughed as she took a sip, spraying water back into her bottle at the terrible pick-up line. She glanced at him over her shoulder. He was leaning casually against the bar, watching her. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

The challenge hung between them and the biker disarmed her by gracing her with a smile that was simultaneously cheeky and devilish. How did someone look so cute and dangerous at the same time?

“I think you’ll scream for me first,” he said calmly. Roxanne blushed; people could hear them. The bartender was smiling, trying to appear busy as some of the men around them laughed. She turned, determined to ignore the biker, and ducked into the sea of bodies. She didn’t get far. An arm wrapped around her elbow and she nearly dropped her drink only a hand caught it and then she was pulled back against a warm body.

He didn’t let go of her hand holding the water as he crowded behind her, grinding a little against her ass. Roxanne licked her lips. This was so not how she pictured tonight going.

“Come on, I dare you,” he whispered into her ear.

Hvitserk could feel the tremble in her hand as he spoke. He was loving every second of this. He’d been determined to, at the least get her name, and maybe a quickie in the bathroom but the challenge hanging between them made him want more. He could drag this out.

“I think I’m super drunk,” she mumbled, he grinned having only just caught it.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, his free hand dropping to her waist, slipping beneath her tank. Her skin was warm to touch, and so soft.

“Cause there is no way a hot biker is offering to fuck me senseless the same day I get stood up at the altar.”

He paused and glanced down at her with a quirked eyebrow as she turned her head to look at him a little. He could see the flush deepen in her cheeks. She was serious. He grinned and pried the water from her hand, someone took it from him, and he brought his hand up to tip her chin towards him.

“You got lucky, you didn’t marry an idiot then,” he muttered and then kissed her.

Roxanne whimpered into the kiss. Holy jeez. Her knees were weak from a kiss. She was drunk, very drunk apparently. Not enough to be blackout and not understand what was happening but with her lowered inhibitions she gave in far easier than rational, sober Roxanne would. Heck, sober Roxanne wouldn’t have even been here. His fingers ghosted along her jaw, the hand touching her bare skin at the waist of her shorts was drawing lazy circles across her flesh. The kiss itself was slow.

He didn’t seem to be in a hurry and Roxanne leaned into the kiss. His lips were soft, full, and tasted sweet. Her fingers curled into his leather vest just behind her hip. His hips ground into her, and Roxanne was sure that any man like this shouldn’t exist. His fingers massaged her neck and she moaned, moving in slow motion with him to the music pounding through the speakers. If this wasn’t get you in the mood to fuck music, Roxanne didn’t know what was.

She almost whined as his mouth broke away from hers, his eyes assessing her intently in the dim light.

“Please tell me there is a room somewhere,” she said. He grinned and nodded, loosening himself from her so he could steer her towards the bathroom hallway. Roxanne wasn’t a prude but the idea of fucking in a toilet stall was, well it wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

He didn’t turn into the bathrooms though, instead he led her deeper through the hall. Coming to a door with a large biker guarding it, Roxanne was surprised when the older man simply moved to the side without a word, just ducking his head in a nod as the biker guided her into another dimly lit corridor.

The door shut behind them and the music became a distant pound. He had his hand joined with hers and a little worried now they were alone, she clutched at it and stepped in close to him, letting him guide her through the hall, past a few rooms. One door was ajar, and Roxanne saw a man with a woman tied up in the strangest position.

At the end of the hall, he turned left to a door. He let go of her hand as he fished into the back pocket of his baggy blue jeans. Roxanne was really doing this. Tati hadn’t stopped her, and why the fuck would she? It was Roxanne’s night to just do whatever the heck she wanted, right?

The soft click of the lock in the silence brought her back to the moment and she glanced up as he looked at her over his shoulder. He was broad compare to her; he was also the total opposite to what she was usually attracted to. Maybe that was why drunk, heartbroken Roxanne was so keen to strip off and let him fuck her.

The door opened and he stepped to the side and motioned for her to step inside. Roxanne let out a soft breath and stepped through the doorway.

The room had a large bed against the opposite wall, the sheets were all messy. A few pieces of furniture were scattered about. A large flag of what she assumed was their biker iconography hung above the head of the bed. She was a little surprised when she noticed that the ceiling had a mirror over the bed. Interesting.

Roxanne turned to face the biker. She hadn’t even got his name. She assumed Hvit was a nickname, they usually gave themselves nicknames, right? He was leaning against the now shut door, tossing the keys onto the chest of drawers to his right.

“I’m Roxanne, by the way,” she said.

He grinned; he really needed to stop doing that. It was enough to make her belly giddy. “Like the song. Hvitserk.”

She nodded, softly testing his name out on her tongue. They stood in a heavy silence, the only sound the bass reverberating from the bar.

“So-“ she started, tapping the sides of her thighs.

“You’ve never done this.”

Roxanne paused, pursing her lips, and looked at the floor, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “A one night stand? No.”

He was smiling and suddenly all her drunken courage seeped out of her as she realized he wasn’t nearly as drunk as she was. “Take off your shirt.”

Roxanne blushed, the tank didn’t really cover much, she used it at the beach a lot, but she’d been hot in the summer night and just thrown it on as Tati had pushed her out the door of the hotel room.

She crossed her arms over and grabbed the ends. He didn’t move, just watched her. This was far more intense than if they were just sloppily going at each other. She tugged the tank up, sliding out of it and looking around for somewhere to toss it. There was a chair nearby. She chucked it over the back of it, then glanced at him.

For a moment she was kind of glad she hadn’t stripped off the white bra and underwear that matched because it made her boobs look incredible and she knew it.

***

Hvitserk had asked for a private show but his fingers itched to touch. Usually, he’d be balls deep in a sweet butt already. The dark grey tank was pulled off and he smirked. The white bra was expensive, this was what her husband would’ve been looking at if the fool hadn’t left her at the altar.

Her tanned skin stood out across the delicate white. He really wanted to touch.

Pushing himself off the door, Hvitserk shrugged out of his kutte and draped it over the back of the chair with her tank. She had her hands buried in the back pockets of her shorts as she watched him. She looked like an angel and he was about to make her fall.

***

Roxanne could feel her heart racing in her chest as Hvitserk laid his leather across the chair, he was careful with it. She smiled at the way he handled something so simple with such care.

“Come here.”

The soft order was direct and straight forward. Roxanne closed the distance between them and stood toe to toe with him. His hands sunk into her curls and she moaned softly as his fingers kneaded her head for a second. His mouth crushed hers, the slow kiss out in the bar was gone. He pulled her in close, holding her captive as he devoured her mouth, teeth biting at her lower lip.

Roxanne moaned into the kiss; it was incredible. When Mike had kissed her, it was usually sloppy. Her fingers found the end of his shirt and she dragged it up his belly, slipping her hands underneath. Hot, hard abs met her fingers, and she traced the sculpted six pack up to his pecs. One of his arms dropped to encircle her waist and drag her completely against him, crushing her hands between them as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Roxanne’s knees buckled as his tongue found hers. Jeez, this man knew exactly what he was doing with his mouth.

She dug her nails into his chest beneath his shirt, grinning as he hissed.

He pulled back just enough to reach over his head and tug his shirt off. Roxanne’s eyes took in the sight; underneath that baggy white shirt was a hard, tattooed body. His arms and shoulders were well defined and that delicious six pack dropped down into a deep v that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs which rested a little above his jeans.

Roxanne let out an appreciate breath. “I might have bitten off more than I can chew.”

He chuckled, those hands finding the curve of where her ass met her thighs and effortlessly lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around that trim waist as he peppered kisses along her jaw while taking the few steps to the bed. Instead of laying her back against it, he sat himself down, so she straddled him.

“Wanna dance for me?”

She thought back to her words out in the bar and groaned, dropping her head back as he chuckled. She had pretty much thrown the gauntlet down.

It was hot though; he wanted a private striptease.

Roxanne wasn’t used to drawn out foreplay. She was used to a rough blow job, Mike didn’t know how to pace himself and then he’d be on her like a horny teenager. He hadn’t changed in the four years they’d been together. Roxanne realized she had accepted it because she thought she’d been head over heels. Now, she had this hot biker asking her for a lap dance and realized that there was a lot she had been missing; like the way Hvitserk had stared at her in a room full of people like he wanted to drag her to the floor and thoroughly fuck her there.

“There’s no music in here,” she said, glancing round.

He smirked, leaning back on one hand, and shoving a hand into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. The glow of the phone light highlighted his handsome features.

How did she get so damn lucky on one of the most humiliating days of her lives? A hot biker had intentionally sought her out, turning her drunken partying to forget the misery of this morning into this. She had no doubt he could pull women in easily, the calm casualness of him was gravitating and women likely felt the same thing she did when he focused on them. He tapped away and Roxanne realized just how comfortable she was, half undressed sitting on his lap. Yeah, she snorted internally, she was definitely drunk.

A moment later, Ginuwine’s Pony started up. He looked at her from over his phone, the smallest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he locked his phone and tossed it to the floor.

Roxanne slowly peeled herself from his lap. He leaned in towards her as she slowly rolled her hips, resting his hands between his legs. Those eyes were so damn intense and made her feel like a fucking million dollars as she slowly ground to the beat. She turned away from him, her fingers unbuttoning her jean shorts. She shimmied her hips, leaning her ass back to him a little as the fabric slid down and then pooled at her feet.

***

Hvitserk watched as she pulled herself off his lap, he put his hands between his legs to keep them off. Her hips moved to the beat and his fingers itched to reach out. He didn’t though even as she turned away from him. That ass in his face, even clad in denim was giving him a hard on. She wasn’t his usual type, he was used to tall, leggy slim brunettes and yet, as she slid those shorts down, he swallowed as that firm ass was revealed. Fuck, he swore to himself. The thong matched the bra. He wanted to bite the globe of flesh that shimmied in front of him.

She straddled him, her ass pressing back into his crotch and Hvitserk moved his hands, reclining back on them as she grounded against his hard on. That curvy figure wriggled and ground so damn perfectly against him. Her legs were draped over his and Hvitserk spread his knees, spreading her own.

Fuck not touching. He leaned back further and reached round to grasp her throat, his hips grinding up into hers.

“Open your eyes,” he said as they ground against one another to the song.

***

Roxanne was loving the feel of him, loved the way he ground up into her, the way he gripped her throat gently. She did what he said and opened her eyes. The mirror. Fuck it was hot. She could see herself grinding against him, her legs spread over his as he watched them through the mirror as well, he smirked, that grip on her throat squeezing softly before it slid down over her chest.

Roxanne was a little discombobulated by the fact she was watching his every move above them. She moaned as his fingers grazed her nipple through the fabric of her bra, arching her chest into his hand.

His thumb rolled over the hardening bud as Roxanne writhed across him. The song forgotten as he started to touch her.

Her hands steadied herself by his hips on the bed. Her ass pushed back into his groin, where his hard on was becoming evident. She was swimming in a haze of alcohol and pleasure when he suddenly pinched her nipple and she squealed. He chuckled by her ear as she comically slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Like that?” Hvitserk inquired, his eyes still on the mirror above them. His hand moved up to where her hand covered her mouth, gently prying it off. “I wanna hear you. Pinch your nipples, Roxy.”

Roxanne swallowed thickly, her hands moving to her breasts. She whimpered as she rolled her thumbs across the sensitive buds, pinching like Hvitserk had done.

“Fuck,” she breathed as her eyes slid shut, her head finding purchase in the crook of his neck. A strong, rough hand settled on her knee as she continued to stroke and pinch her nipples. It was more erotic having him watch her do it to herself she found. The hand on her knee slid up along her thigh. Right to the top of her thigh.

He was going to win. She was not up to this challenge. He was too good at this. Roxanne’s belly was warm, liquid heat flooding her system as she touched herself with him watching her. His thumb drew idle circles across the top of her thigh.

Roxanne stopped grinding as she focused on her breasts, letting that delicious heat between her legs build. She hadn’t even gotten her underwear off and she was a mess atop him.

“Lean up,” he said. Roxanne did and felt his fingers undoing the clasp of her bra. The straps loosened and she rolled her shoulders with a grateful sigh. She pulled it off and threw it across the room. Large hands cupped her breasts and she moaned as his thumbs found her nipples and stroked and pinched as his lips brushed the back of her neck. Those hands were delicious. She covered them with her own, encouraging him. She was close, and he’d only been touching her nipples. Roxanne needed his hands elsewhere. She dragged one of his hands down her belly, shivering as his hand delved beneath her underwear without her needing to voice what she needed.

She gasped as his finger slid along her clit, then groaned when his fingers went further, sinking between her wet lips and thrusting into her. She murmured out a yes as he alternated between pumping into her and stroking her clit.

His teeth scraped across her shoulder. Roxanne was panting, legs trembling as he pinched her nipple and stroked her clit. With a curse, she crumpled. His legs trapped hers from closing as she came, twitching as she whimpered, trying to squeeze her legs shut.

***

She hadn’t screamed for him. Yet. He hadn’t expected her to orgasm so quick. How long had it been since she’d had a good fuck? A while by the way she was reacting to him. He loved the way her body shuddered against him as he brought her undone. He hadn’t gotten to see her face as she was facing away from him, her head leaning into his shoulder.

He slowly dragged his hand from her underwear. She collapsed back into his chest and he grinned. She was a cuddly little kitten post orgasm. He pressed a kiss to her temple as she came down.

“Wow,” she whispered. He chuckled, the deep rumble under her back shaking her a little.

After a moment, she slid off his lap to kneel between his legs. Her fingers went to his belt as she peered up at him from beneath her lashes. Fuck, she looked good like this.

Hvitserk leaned down, his fingers grabbing her chin and pulling her to him for a kiss. He stood, letting her shuffle back on her knees as he pushed her hands from his belt. He undid it and then his jeans were undone and dropping to the floor. He was hard, painfully so. Delicate, soft fingers tucked into the waistband of his briefs and then they were pulled down. His cock sprang free and he groaned softly at the release.

***

Roxanne was impressed. She glanced up at him from where she knelt. He had his head titled back, and she leaned in then, grabbing his thighs and pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss to the underside of his cock. He was hard and ready, but Roxanne was determined to give as good as she got from him. His grunt above her was rough as his cock twitched under her mouth. His head dropped forward to his chest and he was staring at her. Roxanne kept his eyes locked with hers as slowly licked up along the underside of him. There was a strangled noise from him, and Roxanne smirked at him as her fingers closed around the base of him.

Her grip firm but not intending to hurt, stroked along him, her thumb gliding over the weeping head. What surprise her was the sudden whimper from the man above her as she closed her mouth around the head of his cock, her tongue sweeping over it like she was trying a lollipop.

“Fuck.” Fingers buried into her hair as she slowly swallowed him; relaxing her throat to try and take him all in. Those fingers tightened on her hair as she hummed around his cock.

***

Hvitserk nearly wept as the hum in her throat caressed his cock. She was good. Fuck, he’d gotten head before, but this was so different. There was no hurry to it, no quick get him hard and then get him in her. No, Hvitserk was going to enjoy this. His legs trembled as she came off him, only to swallow him again, her teeth just gazing the underside of his cock.

He moaned, tightening his grip on her hair. He needed to thrust, he needed to move but he was trying to so desperately to let her set the pace of this, knowing he could hurt her if he was rough. Her tongue stroked him, and he whispered out another curse. He needed to fuck her, now.

***

Roxanne winced a little at the grip in her hair as she tried to sink back down on him. He held her in place as he pulled back and then he was dragging her to her feet. Roxanne moaned into the bruising kiss. He sought her hungrily, hands slipping to her hips, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her thong. He rolled the fabric down her hips all the while kissing her like a hungry predator.

She quickly toed off her booties and kicked them away as he let her underwear drop to the floor around her feet.

His hands found her ass and thigh and he was lifting her up. She gripped his neck and shoulder, her thighs tightening against his hips as he turned and rolled her beneath him onto the bed. He settled down over her and Roxanne sighed into the kiss, massaging the back of his neck as that slow and unhurried pace washed back over them.

His head bowed to her breasts; bruised, swollen lips found her nipple. She moaned, suddenly grabbing at the sheets under her as he slowly moved down her body, planting open mouthed kisses across her chest and belly. His tongue carved a hot path from her navel down. Looking down, Roxanne found the sight of a muscular, tattooed biker settling his head between her thighs erotic in a way she couldn’t place. She wasn’t used to getting head, Mike just didn’t like doing it, thought it was too difficult. Now she had a gorgeous man burying his face between her thighs like he was right at home.

***

She was tense, he could feel it in the way her thigh muscles bunched by his head. “Relax,” he murmured, turning to press his lips to her inner thigh. “Lay back.” He looked down the length of her body to her face. She looked hot; swollen pouty lips, flushed cheeks, and messy curls. She still looked uncertain but whatever internal debate she was having with herself, his words got through and she slowly relaxed back into the bed.

***

Roxanne stared at the mirror above them. Okay, she got why he had it. The sight of her, stretched out across the bed, clutching at the blankets with her thighs slung over Hvitserk’s shoulders as he nipped and sucked his way along her thigh was fucking hot. She could only see the back of his head and his back as his muscles flexed as he moved. She adored his back. One of his arms curled around her thigh and held her steady.

His mouth came to her clit and Roxanne’s hips bucked off the bed. She blushed as she watched his head twist to glance up to her face. She wouldn’t look; she would just keep her eyes on the mirror. His chuckle was sexy as he returned to her clit.

Roxanne moaned as his tongue slid along her. Fuck, he was good at this. She clutched hard at the sheets he slipped two fingers into her and she swore as her hips bucked into his mouth.

***

Hvitserk smirked against her, enjoying the way her thighs squeezed against his head. He held her thigh in place so she couldn’t run from him as his tongue circled her clit. Her hips bucked against him as he pumped his fingers into her, curling up against her. She was a hot mess above him, whimpering and moaning as he kept going. Her hand buried into his hair and Hvitserk grunted against her tug but didn’t stop. He was going to make her scream; he’d promised her she would, and he wasn’t going to fail on that.

***

“Fuck,” Roxanne breathed. The sight of herself completely at his mercy in the mirror was incredible. The licking of heat spread from her belly and out over her body. Her toes curled as Hvitserk sped up, guessing she was close. She gripped his hair tight and cried out as she came, her legs trembling and her hips rocking into him. He didn’t stop and she whimpered as he carried her through her orgasm.

She was shivering as he finally gave her a break, his mouth carving a hot, wet path across her belly. Her body was heavy; a combination of the alcohol in her system and the two orgasms were making her tired. He hadn’t even fucked her. Roxanne glanced down at him; he had his head resting against her belly. She scraped her nails against his scalp and grinned as he shivered before glancing up at her. He was so incredibly hot as he pulled back from her. She let him go, leaning up on her elbows as she watched him get up and reach for his jeans.

He had his back to her, and Roxanne was able to admire his ass as he rummaged through a back pocket. She leaned back on the bed, staring up at her reflection in the mirror. Her fingers absently trailed over her stomach as she listened to him rummaging around.

***

Hvitserk glanced at her, she was laying back, staring up at her reflection. He grinned; that mirror was the best damn thing he’d done to this room. Her legs were drawn up slightly and he watched her. She was breathtaking post orgasm, and he was a little surprised at how he couldn’t imagine the guy who’d stood her up and left her at the altar. How? Why?

He pulled the condom from out of his wallet and tossed them back down to the floor. The soft thud drew her attention. He grinned, holding up the packet. She blushed and he was taken back by the sweetness of her.

“I have a request,” she said into the quiet between them as he stood there.

“Oh? What would that be?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest as he stood profile to the bed, waiting for her to answer.

“Can you wear your vest?” It was a whisper. She was shy about asking. If only she knew just how many sweet butts demanded he leave it on while fucking them; it wasn’t that weird, most women got hot under the collar because of the kutte, the bad boy image that the club members projected. He’d experienced it since he’d been a prospect and the girls at high school had shown him the effect it had.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, and nodded. “Your wish, is my command.”

He grabbed his kutte as he came back to the bed, the condom packet between his teeth as he shrugged the leather back on.

***

He stood at the bottom of the bed, shrugging into the leather and she let out a shaky breath. It was so damn hot to see his bare inked skin against the black. He put his knee down onto the bed between her legs and his hands found her knees. He still had the condom packet between his teeth as he came down to her, his fingers smoothing along her thighs. He was still hard and ready to go.

She reached out and pulled the packet from between his lips as he got within reach. She opened it and tossed the packet aside as he knelt over her. She reached between them, her fingers closing around him. He hummed in the back of his throat as she stroked him slowly, enjoying the way his hips rocked into her hand. She rolled the condom onto him and kept hold of him. He watched her, his eyes hooded as she wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him down to her. He was so gorgeous and for just a night, she got to be with him. She wouldn’t see him again, and so Roxanne committed every little detail she could to her memory and prayed she’d remember it when she was sober.

He came down and kissed her gently, his lips brushing across hers as he smoothed her hair back from her face and she smiled against him, releasing her grip as he sunk down into her. She moaned, her hips shifting to meet his as he pulled back a little. He stopped kissing her, his forehead resting against hers as he sunk back into her. He groaned, his head dropping to her neck. His hand held her hair gently as he kissed her throat, searing himself deep in her. Her hands slipped under the leather and found his back, digging in and holding him close.

Roxanne felt so good, loving the way he filled her. He ground his hips against her slowly.

“Fuck,” she breathed as he hit that deep spot in her that made her gasp. He didn’t lean away, using his elbow to support some of his weight as he kept up the slow pace and grinding. Roxanne was swimming. This was unreal.

***

Hvitserk was kissing her neck, his teeth nipping at her flesh as he ground against her. She felt so damn good. He didn’t usually go this slow but fuck if he wasn’t going to savour being balls deep in this messy, thoroughly fucked angel. He sought her neck out, his teeth leaving love bites across her tanned skin. She clung to him and for a second Hvitserk felt a pain in his chest. Fate was funny in the way it had pushed them into this and yet, it was only one night. They were two different people, worlds apart and nothing good could come from him dragging her into the life he and his family lived. He didn’t want to rush and let her go. He needed this. Her thighs clutched at his hips and he kept his grip on her hair. He didn’t want to let her go.

***

Roxanne was not use to slow sex. Mike had preferred finding the end as quick as he could, only concerned about getting off. This was incredible; Hvitserk was incredible. She slid her heel over his ass and dug into the firm flesh. He grunted as she raised her hips to meet him. His thrusts quickened as he buried himself in closer against her. Roxanne moaned as his leathers brushed against her nipples. She pushed him then, shoving his weight to the side and followed him. He grunted as his back hit the bed and he looked up at her as she threw her leg over his hips.

***

Hvitserk grinned up at her as she grabbed his kutte for purchase and sunk down onto him, her head dropping back as she moaned. His hands found her hips, helping her set a steady rhythm and he groaned, leaning back to watch the mirror above them. She was leaning back, giving him the best fucking view as she rode him. He groaned as she sunk down and then ground her hips. His fingers dug into her flesh as her speed quickened.

***

Roxanne bit her lip as she rode him; hands holding his leathers and bracing against his chest for purchase. He grunted and bucked his hips to meet hers, the frantic pace they were reaching a signal he was close to the finish. She leaned over him, her teeth biting at his lower lip. He returned the kiss, fighting her for dominance.

He sat up then, his arms sliding around her back and holding her to him. Roxanne leaned her head back as his teeth sunk into her throat, keeping hold of her as he took control. It was animalistic the way he suddenly gripped her, holding her throat in his teeth but not hard enough to hurt. Her hands buried into his hair, messing up his man bun and braids.

He groaned her name, long and deep suddenly and his movements became jerky as he came.

***

They collapsed backwards, Roxanne dislodging herself so she could sprawl out beside him, staring up at their reflections in the mirror. He was breathing raggedly and smiling. Roxanne grinned, leaning against his side. She bit his chest playfully and he hissed, chuckling.

He rolled away from her for a second, taking off the condom before coming back to her.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and made her look at him. “Are you okay?”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah, though I should probably go find Tati and the others. We need to head home.”

The smile slowly faded from that handsome face and she internally cringed, realizing she’d broken the spell clinging to them in here. “I’ll help you round them up.”

He surprised her when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead before he pulled away and climbed from the bed, pulling his vest off as he went to grab his briefs from the ground. Roxanne had to reason that she needed to break this, whatever it was, so she could go home, back to whatever was waiting for her there. She climbed from the bed and located her underwear, dressing quietly as he did.

***

Hvitserk found a packet of smokes on the chest of drawers by his keys and pulled one out, lighting it as he pulled his kutte back on. He could hear Roxanne dressing behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He wasn’t angry that she’d brought them back to reality. She was right, she needed to go back to her own life and the sooner she did it, the easier he figured it would be. He wasn’t used to this; the wanting someone to stay.

Margrethe, his only true serious relationship had been teen angst coupled with her being a sweet butt that knew how to play club members like a fiddle. She’d done a number on him, and Ubbe. Sigurd didn’t speak of it, but they all knew he still saw her when he ventured to the chapter in Florida where their mother had sent her to avoid the drama of the sons of Ragnar in fighting. Hvitserk didn’t miss her, he’d just never really trusted someone again.

Sweet butts tried to get close, but he kept them at arm’s length. He glanced over his shoulder at where Roxanne was shimmying into her jean shorts and felt something deep in him feel sick. She wasn’t what he had expected when he’d first seen her tonight, but jeez, he’d loved every second of it.

It was going to hurt watching her walk out of here.

***

Roxanne let him lead her back towards the bar. He stopped at each door, knocking and asking for the girls for her. Imagine her surprise when a blonde appeared in the doorway, sans everything but a pair of boxers as Sally and Fiona appeared behind him half naked. Biting her lip to stifle a smile, she watched as the blonde spoke to Hvitserk in a language Roxanne didn’t know. Hvitserk looked comfortable, not worried about the two barely clothed women as he spoke between smoking.

“Sorry ladies, guess the nights over,” the blonde said, pouting at her friends who giggled and they disappeared back into the room to get dressed.

Hvitserk glanced at her. “He’s my brother.” She nodded slowly.

“You two look nothing alike.”

He grinned and jerked his head down the corridor. “Come on.”

***

Hvitserk helped her find Tatiana. Her best friend had taken to helping the woman on the bar clean up some of the chaos about the bar. Sally and Fiona reappeared, clothed with Hvitserk’s brother and Tatiana gave her a wide smile as she saw them approach. She linked arms with Roxanne, giving her a raised eyebrow as she glanced at where Hvitserk was talking to the woman at the bar to organise a ride for them back into the city.

Roxanne whispered that she’d tell her back at the hotel.

Tatiana just smiled.

***

Hvitserk and his brother led the ladies outside. Roxanne was surprised to see a man sitting on a lunch bench out on the lot smoking. He didn’t speak to them. Hvitserk pulled out another smoke as they stood waiting in the cool night air for the taxi. Roxanne felt the chill and wrapped her arms around herself as she huddled with Tati while Sally and Fiona chatted up Sigurd, or so he’d introduced himself to her as.

She felt him behind her then and the warmth of his body drew her in; Roxanne leaned back into him a little. He talked causally to his brother over her head and she was reminded just how small she was compared to him. They didn’t touch each other, just stood as close as they could.

The taxi arrived way too quick. Sigurd helped Sally and Fiona into it, and Tatiana climbed in next. Roxanne’s feet didn’t move, suddenly anchored to the spot. This was it; this was goodbye. He hadn’t moved from behind her. His hand found her hip as he flicked the smoke he was finished with off nearby. Like inside when he’d followed her into the sea of bodies, he took her chin and made her look at him. His fingers ghosted over her jaw and she leaned into it, smiling weakly.

“You’re gonna be hard to forget,” he said softly and then kissed her. She pulled away first and nodded at him, letting out a shaky breath as she stepped towards the taxi. His hand stayed at her hip until she was out of his reach and then she was in the taxi. Sigurd shut the door for her.

“Wait, how are we paying you?” Tatiana asked suddenly to the driver and Roxanne smiled as it distracted her and pulled her attention away from Hvitserk standing outside, hands buried into pockets as Sigurd spoke to him.

“You’re not,” the driver replied. “I owe the club a favor. All things considered; this is a cake walk.”

Roxanne didn’t want to know; Sally and Fiona were talking. She’d gotten lost in her thoughts as the taxi pulled out of the lot and her heart sank a little as she glanced back to where Hvitserk had been standing to find him no longer there.