#the vibe from this and what im about to go work on is so different lol

[selfspinninglies]

WRITING THE FANFICTION !!!! your asks in my inbox are giving me the inspiration that i NEED.

WHAAAT OH MY GOD YAAAY IM SO EXCITED !! I love the little summary already the way you describe L is actually hilarious [and accurate] hdjsknss im glad i could motivate you i love this au dearly

[landmine-doll]

for personal comfort reasons im going to draw my fav character in dark girly clothes

hes gonna look so pretty! 💖

[acourtofquestions]

No. No, it couldn't have been a dream The escape, Rowan, the ship to Terrasen—

A dream. An illusion. Her escape from him, from Maeve, had been another illusion.

Had she said it? Had she said where the Keys were hidden?

Then a cool, cultured voice purred, "All that training, and this is what becomes of you?" Not real. Arobynn, standing on the other side of the altar, was not real.

"Even Sam held out better than this."

Fenrys snarled.

You could get out of these chains, if you really wanted," Arobynn said, frowning with distaste. "If you really tried."

No, she couldn't, and everything had been a dream, a lie.

"You let yourself remain captive. Because the moment you are free..." Arobynn chuckled. "Then you must offer yourself up, a lamb to slaughter."

Only hearing the King of the Assassins, unseen and unnoted beside her.

"Deep down, you're hoping you'll be here long enough that the young King of Adarlan will pay the price. Deep down, you know you're hiding here, waiting for him to clear the path." Arobynn leaned against the side of the altar, cleaning his nails with a dagger. "Deep down, you know it's not really fair, that those gods picked you. That Elena picked you instead of him. She bought you time to live, yes, but you were still chosen to pay the price. Her price And the gods'?"

Arobynn ran a long-fingered hand down the side of her face. "Do you see what I tried to spare you from all these years? What you might have avoided had you remained Celaena, remained with me?" He smiled. "Do you see, Aelin?"

She could not answer. Had no voice. Cairn hit bone, and—

Aelin lunged upward, hands grasping for her thigh. No chains weighed her. No mask smothered her. No dagger had been twisted into her body. Breathing hard, the scent of musty sheets clinging to her nose, the sounds of her screaming replaced by the drowsy chirping of birds, Aelin scrubbed at her face.

The prince who'd fallen asleep beside her was already running a hand down her back in silent, soothing strokes.

A dream. Just a dream.

She twisted, setting her feet to the threadbare carpet on the uneven wood floor.

"Dawn isn't for another hour," Rowan said.

Yet Aelin reached for her shirt. "I'll get warmed up, then." Maybe run, as she had not been able to do in weeks and weeks.

Rowan sat up, missing nothing. "Training can wait, Aelin." They'd been doing it for weeks now, as thorough and grueling as it had been at Mistward.

She shoved her legs into her pants, then buckled on her sword belt.

"No, it can't."

A gathering storm to the north had forced their ship to find harbor last night—and after weeks at sea, none of them had hesitated to spend a few hours on land. To learn what in hell had happened while they'd been gone.

The answer: war.

Everywhere, war raged. But where the fighting occurred, the aging innkeeper didn't know. Boats didn't stop at the port anymore— and the great warships just sailed past. Whether they were enemy or friendly, he also didn't know.

Aelin scowled. "What." It wasn't so much of a question as demand.

His gaze was unfaltering. As it had been when she'd returned from her run through the misty fields beyond the inn and found him leaning against the apple tree. "That's enough for today."

"We've hardly started." She lifted her blade.

Rowan kept his own lowered. "You barely slept last night."

Aelin tensed. "Bad dreams." An understatement. She lifted her chin and threw him a grin. "Perhaps I'm starting to wear you down a bit."

His canines gleamed. "You need to eat."

"I need to train."

She couldn't stop it-that need to do something. To be in motion.

No matter how many times she swung her blade, she could feel them. The shackles. And whenever she paused to rest, she could feel it, too—her magic. Waiting.

Indeed, it seemed to open an eye and yawn.

She clenched her jaw, and attacked again Rowan met each blow, and she knew her maneuvers were descending into sloppiness.

Knew he let her continue rather than seizing the many openings to end it.

She couldn't stop. War raged around them People were dying. And she had been locked in that damned box, had been taken apart again and again, unable to do anything.

Rowan struck, so fast she couldn't track it. But it was the foot he slid before her own that doomed her, sending her careening into the dirt.

"I win," he panted. "Let's eat."

Aelin glared up at him. "Another round."

Rowan just sheathed his sword. "After breakfast."

She growled. He growled right back.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You'll lose all that muscle if you don't feed your body. So eat. And if you still want to train afterward, I'll train with you." He offered her a tattooed hand.

But Aelin said, "People are dying. In Terrasen. In-everywhere. People are dying, Rowan."

"Your eating breakfast isn't going to change that." Her lips curled in a snarl, but he cut her off. "I know people are dying. We are going to help them. But you need to have some strength left, or you won't be able to."

Truth. Her mate spoke truth. And yet she could see them, hear them. Those dying, frightened people. Whose screams so often sounded like her own.

Rowan wriggled his fingers in silent reminder. Shall we?

Aelin scowled and took his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. So pushy.

Rowan slid an arm around her shoulders. That's the most polite thing you've ever said about me.

Elide's eyes widened. Widened further as he opened his mouth, and took a bite. His swallow was audible. His cringe barely contained. Elide reined in her smile at the pure misery that entered the Lion's tawny stare. Aelin and Rowan had been finishing up a similar battle when she'd entered the taproom minutes ago, the queen wishing her luck before striding back into the courtyard.

Elide hadn't seen her sit still for longer than it took to eat a meal. Or during the hours when she'd instructed them in Wyrdmarks, after Rowan had requested she teach them.

It had gotten her out of the chains, the prince had explained. And if the ilken were resistant to their magic, then learning the ancient marks would come in handy with all they faced ahead. The battles both physical and magic.

Gavriel met her stare, and Elide again restrained her laugh.

She felt, rather than saw, Lorcan enter. The innkeeper instantly found somewhere else to be. The man hadn't been surprised to see five Fae enter his inn last night, so his vanishing whenever Lorcan appeared was certainly due to the glower the male had perfected.

Indeed, Lorcan took one look at Elide and Gavriel and left the dining room.

They'd barely spoken these weeks. Elide hadn't known what to even say. A member of this court. Her court. Forever.

He and Aelin certainly hadn't warmed toward each other. No, only Rowan and Gavriel really spoke to him. Fenrys, despite his promise to Aelin not to fight with Lorcan, ignored him most of the time. And Elide ... She'd made herself scarce often enough that Lorcan hadn't bothered to approach her.

Good. It was good. Even if she sometimes found herself opening her mouth to speak to him. Watching him as he listened to Aelin's lessons on the Wyrdmarks. Or while he trained with the queen, the rare moments when the two of them weren't at each other's throats.

Aelin had been returned to them. Was recovering as best she could.

Elide didn't taste her next bite of porridge. Gavriel, thankfully, said nothing. And Anneith didn't speak, either. Not a whisper of guidance. It was better that way. To listen to herself. Better that Lorcan kept his distance, too.

Whether the others knew what propelled her, they hadn't said a word. Aelin sheathed Goldryn and loosed a long breath. Deep down, her power grumbled. She flexed her fingers. Maeve's cold, pale face flashed before her eyes. Her magic went silent.

Fenrys sat in wolf form at the edge of the nearest field, staring out across the expanse.

Precisely where he'd been before dawn.

She let him hear her steps, his ears twitching. He shifted as she approached, and leaned against the half-rotted fence surrounding the field.

"Who'd you piss off to get the graveyard shift?" Aelin asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Fenrys snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Would you believe I volunteered for it?" She arched a brow. He shrugged, watching the field again, the mists still clinging to its farthest reaches. "I don't sleep well these days." He cut her a sidelong glance. "I don't suppose I'm the only one."

She picked at the blister on her right hand, hissing. "We could start a secret society-for people who don't sleep well."

"As long as Lorcan isn't invited, I'm in."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Let it go."

His face turned stony. "I said I would."

"You clearly haven't."

"I'll let it go when you stop running yourself ragged at dawn."

"I'm not running myself ragged. Rowan is overseeing it."

"Rowan is the only reason you're not limping everywhere."

Truth. Aelin curled her aching hands into fists and slid them into her pockets. Fenrys said nothing didn't ask why she didn't warm her fingers. Or the air around them. He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right?

A gull's cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she'd admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right?

Two blinks from him, too. No,

They were not alright.

They might never be. If the others knew, if they saw past the swagger and temper, they didn't let on.

None of them commented that Fenrys hadn't once used his magic to leap between places. Not that there was anywhere to go in the middle of the sea. But even when they sparred, he didn't wield it. Perhaps it had died with Connall. Perhaps it had been a gift they had both shared, and touching it was unbearable.

She didn't dare peer inward, to the churning sea inside her. Couldn't.

Aelin and Fenrys stood by the field as the sun arced higher, burning off the mists.

Aelin shook her head. Another dream, or hallucination. "If she's on our heels with this army, I'm just ... trying to understand it. Her, I mean."

"You plan to kill her." The gruel in her stomach turned over, but Aelin shrugged. Even as she tasted ash on her tongue.

"Would you prefer to do it?"

"I'm not sure I'd survive it," he said through his teeth. "And you have more of a reason to claim it than I do."

"I'd say we have an equal claim."

His dark eyes roved over her face. "Connall was a better male than—than how you saw him that time. Than what he was in the end."

She gripped his hand and squeezed. "I know."

The last of the mists vanished. Fenrys asked quietly, "Do you want me to tell you about it?" He didn't mean his brother.

She shook her head. "I know enough." She surveyed her cold, blistered hands. "I know enough," she repeated.

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

it’s only been a month since i haven’t been at work and im only working 5 hours today why am i so nervous :((

[hetamata]

next time i meet someone i gotta make smalltalk with at a party and they mention japan im straight up gonna pretend like ive never heard of the country or sth istg

[paegei]

MOANER, GROANER, OR WHIMPERER ?

what sounds do the seventeen members make in bed ?

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

a/n: GUYS i am so sorry i haven't written in so long ╯︿╰ i lose motivation for things VERY easily. anywho,,, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to send them in ! ( just be prepared for me to take my time to respond ϵ( ‘Θ’ )϶ )

MOANER:

jeonghan:

when i tell you this man has the PRETTIEST moans i mean it. borderline angelic. every noise that comes out of his mouth has you on the verge of orgasm LITERALLY. he's upstaging you i'm sorry !

joshua:

the things i would do to hear him moaning.... 28:50 of the youngji interview is EMBEDDED in my brain. def more on the quiet side, his moans are pretty low in volume, but he is for SURE right next to your ear cuz he knows how much his moans affect you.

jun:

pathetic moans. PATHETIC. loud, whiny, GUTTURAL moans. he also has no shame. and i mean that. does not care how loud he's being. he has to let you know how good you make him feel, who cares about who hears ? also def makes those ah- ah- ah- sounds before he cums

minghao:

hao's moans are like josh's, low in volume but close enough for you to hear. gives me the vibes of someone who doesn't make much noise in bed, he prefers to focus on your blabbering, but when his sounds grace your ears, it is HEAVENLY. ( his moans are borderline whimpers too just saying )

seungkwan:

DEEP. DEEP. SO DEEP. yk that one good to me performance where he said "make some noise" in his deep ass voice ? yeah, that's his tone in bed. moans coming straight from the chest LAWDDDDDD. was pretty shy at first when it came to making noise, but after seeing how badly it affected you ( because who wouldn't go insane hearing them ), he just goes AT IT. unless he's in sub mode and is borderline sobbing

GROANER:

seungcheol:

bro. words could not describe how hot this man sounds ( i would know we're actually married ). GUTTERAL groaning. genuinely sounds like he is working out ＞︿＜ lets out a groan every time he pulls out, followed by a whimper when he shoves his cock back in :/

wonwoo:

practically inaudible with how deep his groans are. all you would be able to hear is this deep grumble. rarely likes making sounds in bed as he prefers to be all ears for your moans, but hey, sometimes good sex makes a man whimper okay there's nothing wrong with that :3

vernon:

kinda like jun, in the aspect that his groans have a pathetic tilt to them. every sound he makes, no matter how hard he tries to keep them in, just ends up sounding absolutely RUINED. im talking you'd think he was crying from how desperate he sounds ( maybe he is who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

chan:

he's right on the barrier between groans and gasps. OMLLLL HIS LITTLE GASP WHEN HE FIRST SLIPS IN !!!!!!!!!!! no shame either he wants to let the whole world know he's getting the best pussy of his LIFE. anime girl ~gah~ kinda noises IM SORRY

WHIMPERER:

jihoon:

dooooont care what you think. he WHIMPERS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! his whimpers are very low in volume however, he knows that if the guys ever found out the little noises he makes for you he would be a goner. tries his hardest to hold the whines back, much to your dismay, but at least then you get the gorgeous sight of him biting his lip till it bleeds (/▽＼)

seokmin:

man does not care how embarrassing his sounds are he NEEDS you to know how good you feel. he is the EPITONE of whimpers. men be afraid to moan in their girls ear, but seokmin is sobbing out "f-fuck oh m- oh my god- 's good, 's good-" and other barely audible curses :3

mingyu:

his whimpers are WET sorrynotsorry. im saying he's borderline drooling. dumb puppy can't help it if your cunt feels so good :( sobs, cries, just the most desperate and shaky words tumbling from his mouth ( if he can still form words is a different story ).

ALL OF THE ABOVE:

soonyoung:

does not give a FUCK what noise he is making, he's just going for it. somehow sounds like whimpers, cries and growls all in one ?? also yes 80% of the time he is growling but are we suprised. just says any word that comes to his mind too. bro does nawt understand why people hold in their moans... if it feels good, it feels good you know ?

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[i-cant-sing]

To that one thought about the different monarchs YES TO ALL

Ahahaha im so glad so many people liked that idea (OG post here), so ive decided to work on it. So, lets set the story okay? (also btw do not @ me with historical inaccuracies and dates because i simply dont care about all of this that deeply). This AU will have multiple parts, where reader gets to travel through different time periods (and some of them will be real historic figures, others would be created by me).

Reader is a scientist, was working on her time machine (which is just a small box with time/year slots on it), and decides to travel to the past to solve some mysteries, or perhaps simply for the love of history.

So, where does reader travel to first?

1180. Landing right in the kingdom of Jerusalem. And who does she meet?

King Baldwin IV- the leper king.

Reader wanted to see how leprosy, a deadly disease at the time, had affected the king, who despite his conditions, still managed to possess great military strategies and IQ. And how even though his people knew about his outcome, still pledged their loyalty and unwavering support.

You, a scientist of the modern time ofc brought along futuristic gadgets with you. Knowing how youd look in your present era clothes, you wore a watch that allowed you to change into clothes of old times, to blend in easily. All of your gadgets were concealed easily because of their "invisibility cloak" feature.

You made your way towards the castle, making sure to not let awe be apparent in your face as you took in your surroundings, thinking of all the questions youd like to ask the wise king. Of course, you had to make sure you dont do anything to disturb the historic timeline, because then it just might lead to disastrous results.

Getting into the castle was easy, after all you had equipment to sneak you in undetected. You looked around as the servants rushed around, talking about making the arrangements perfect for the feast. You figured out that the feast was probably for another victory the king had gotten, which meant that everyone would be too busy to notice you snooping around.

With everyone engaged downstairs, you had your way up to the king's study, where you opened the door only to be met with a tall burly man standing there, looking surprised to see you.

"Who are you?" He barked, and you got the worst vibes from this man.

"Uh- Im a servant!" You said,backing up a little, just in case you needed to make a run. The man narrowed his eyes as he looked you up and down. "A servant? No servants are allowed in the king's study!"

"The king sent me here." You lied. "And why are you here if servants are not allowed?"

The man's eyes widened in rage before grabbing you by the neck. "Because Im not a servant, fool! I'm his brother in law!" He shook you hard. "And I dont think youre a servant, if you couldnt recognise me! I will have your head, spy!"

"GUY!" Someone yelled from behind you, making Guy look up as his grip around your neck loosened. "Let her go!"

"Your majesty, she's a spy-"

"She's a servant. I sent her up to retrieve my papers." Guy let you go, as you quickly turned around to see him- King Baldwin. You bowed to him as you gave him a glance, noticing his piercing gaze through his iron mask. His gaze shifted from you to Guy. "And what were you doing here, Guy?"

"I was looking for Sibylia, your majesty." He said.

"In my study? My sister is waiting for you downstairs. Go." Guy scrambled away with his tail tucked between his legs, while you watched as the king made his way into his study, leaving you outside.

You took a step back, about to leave-

"Well, come on in." He called you. You ponder over it for a second before walking in. Look, how many times can you meet a historical figure like him?

Baldwin was sitting in his chair, his eyes looking at you through his mask. "So, who are you and what were you doing here? And dont bother lying, unless you want to be tortured for attempted assassination on the king."

You bit your lip before sighing. "Im Y/n L/n." Clasping your hands together, you took a deep breath. "I came here because... I wanted to know about you."

He rested his chin on his palm. "Why? Do you not know about the king of Jerusalem? Where are you from?" He's not vain, but he knows that his numerous victories have made him popular over the years. So why do you not know of him? Or his brother in law, Guy, who is very vain.

"Im from nowhere. For as long as I can remember, Ive been travelling from place to another. Of course, Ive heard about you, but... I crave to know more." You said, partly telling the truth because you do want to know more about him.

His eyes remained on you, the same intense gaze. "And why should I allow you to know more? Do you mistake yourself to be worthy enough to even be in the presence of a king?"

Shit. He was trying to put you in the corner. You had to play this smart.

You smiled softly. "Of course not. Then again, none of us are worthy of anything God blesses us with." You paused, letting the words settle. "Your majesty, I only wish to know more about you because I like to write. I like to write about history, and when one day, God forbid, you succumb to your illness, wouldn't you like to be known for more than just your victories?" You'd read about how Baldwin IV was a fan of history and stories.

His eyes stared at you- no, through you. Unmoving, he replied. "Man shouldnt be so narcissistic to have someone write about his deeds."

You gave a nod. "Jesus wasnt a narcissist. Neither was Mary, nor Abraham. Muhammad wasnt a narcissist either, yet theyre mentioned in books- holy books, nonetheless."

The room fell silent for a few seconds, before he spoke. "True. But why should I have you write it, instead of using one of my scribes?"

"Precisely for the reason you just said." You raised your head a bit. "They'd write never ending praises for you, portray you as this omnipotent ruler, make you look like a narcissit even. I have a keen eye, your majesty. I like to look at what there is beyond the surface. If you let me be your scribe, I could write about details you dont even know. Id write about your strengths as well as weaknesses, for the generations to read and learn from you."

Baldwin remained still for a few moments before finally standing up, walking directly towards you until he was face to face. His blue eyes shining bright under his iron mask.

"I will let you write, under two conditions. First- I approve what gets to be in the book. And second... you spy for me."

"Wait, spy?"

He hummed. "Well, not a conventional spy. You wont have to leave this castle and penetrate enemy territories to eavesdrop. I still dont trust you enough. No- you- you will spy on my court. I want to know what is happening, when, where, and who says what." Under his mask, he raised a brow. "Do you accept?"

You pretended to hesitate, when in reality this was the exact situation you wanted to be in. "Hmm... yes. I accept."

"Good." He walks back towards his desk. "I expect that it goes without saying- complete discretion." You smiled. "Of course, your majesty."

-

Months passed by as you worked for the king. He let you in on details, allowed you to ask personal questions, and in return you kept an eye on everything that happened in court. Listening on to what the servants whispered to eavesdropping on "secret meetings" of the nobles- of course, headed by Guy. Oh how you loathed that vermin's guts. No- he had no guts. A spineless creature, who blatantly talked of the king's eventual demise and all the ways he'd make the kingdom flourish again, how he'd show "no mercy to Salauddin and his muslims". You have no idea how Sibylla was attracted to him- a man who plans her brother's demise openly.

As for the king, working with him- or for him, wasnt all bad. In fact, it was quite fun. The amount of stories, the secrets youve been able to discover- none of it could ever be found in any history book. Most of all, you respect Baldwin on a whole new level now.

His struggles, ever since he was kid- not being a legitmate ruler, his parents being forced to separate, then being diagnosed with leprosy but forced to keep it a secret, the competition with his other sibling to be the heir, and of course, even when he did become the king, he still had to prove his mettle- his worth that he's worthy of ruling even with his disease.

With his life expectancy being uncertain and a huge amount of responsibility being shovelled onto him, he had to learn a lot and master various skills in very short time.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Y/n could only imagine how isolated he must feel. Not being able to touch anyone, to have a significant other, to constantly win battles and do everything in your power to help the kingdom flourish, just for him to not even be alive to enjoy the fruits of his efforts. And worse, he's forced to give it away to his brother in law, that useless piece of shit.

Its one thing that confuses you about Baldwin. You know how persistent he is, how when he sets his eyes on something, he does everything in power and BEYOND to achieve it. For example, when he was only a child and had started to lose the ability to use his hands, he quickly learned to use his thighs to steer his horse. He did not let his disease hold him back, so how does a person as motivated as him simply allow his kingdom to be left in the hands of someone as incapable as Guy?

Then again, you suppose he's doing it for the sake of his sister. Baldwin adores Sibylla, and you could see why. Sibylla was his older sister, she took care of him, and she was forced to marry early because the court would only allow Baldwin to be king IF she were married, so that when Baldwin dies of leprosy, her husband could take care of the kingdom. Baldwin views it as the ultimate sacrifice, so even though he has tried to separate his sister from Guy, she has refused because she's in love with him.

God knows how. You wondered. Guy does not have any redeeming qualities, then again youre thinking like a 21st century woman. Woman of this time had the bar for men set below the deepest level in hell.

"So, what do you have for me today?" Baldwin asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You sighed, shaking your head. "Nothing new, really. Your brother in law, pardon my language your majesty, has been spewing shit about how he'll make the kingdom great again when you die. But when those nobles ask him how, he either has no answer and tries to cover it up by saying its a secret, or he'd say something so ridiculous- his ideas are bound to not only fail, but actually destroy the kingdom even more. I am surprised he doesnt give himself a headache by his own voice. God knows i get one whenever he opens his mouth." You complained, rubbing your temples making the king chuckle. Baldwin seemed to enjoy how informally you spoke.

"Guy is... something else. I apologise on his behalf." You could sense him smiling under his mask. You gave a small smile, but truthfully, your head was actually hurting a lot. You could only hope this was not a migraine developing.

"Would you like tea? Or wine?" He asked as he called in a servant. "Just water for me, thank you." You said, closing your eyes for a few moments as the sharp ache in your head increased.

Baldwin's eyes remained on you, a calculated gaze. "Are you alright? Should I call in the physician?" You shook your head. As if you could trust physicians of this time. "No, I'll be fine after I sleep." You have some medical potions with you that could heal your basic diseases and pains. A gift of modern medicine. But you'll have to use it discreetly, lest someone from this era discovers it and calls you a witch.

The servant soon brought in a chalice filled with water for you and you immediately took a sip of the cool water. Baldwin stood up as he walked over to the window, looking out into the dark night.

"Can I ask you something personal?" You asked. He hummed. You stared at his back, the white cloak he was dressed in. "Do you think if you never had this disease, would you still be a great king? A king who is so motivated to make his kingdom as successful as he can before his time is up?"

He looked back at you, and for a second you wondered if you had slighted him. But these past few months, you've learned to read his body language, despite how hard he conceals both himself and his thoughts.

"No." He said, turning back to the window. "I probably would've been a spoiled brat, I don't think I would've even been chosen to be king. I would've lost it to my half brothers." He tilted his head as he looked at a particular star in the sky. "I suppose my disease is a blessing. God blessed me with it to humble me. Had He not, I probably wouldn't be religious."

"And is that how you see your suffering? A blessing from God?" You asked as you pulled out the medical vial from your cloak and poured it in your chalice. Your headache had started to pulsate now and you needed this.

"I do. I have to serve my people, and my suffering has brought me closer to them and to God. And even with my disease, I was made a king. Isn't that divine intervention? My purpose on earth?" He said almost monotonously, as if he's had this conversation a thousand times.

You took sip of your medicated water, headache immeadiately reducing in intensity. "So... if you had the chance, would you still be the leper king? Or would you be healthy but... not a king? Just a man who gets to experience life like the rest of us, eat normal food, play with others, walk without having to wear a mask, or even fall in love?"

He remained silent, but his shoulders dropped ever so slightly. Tired? Or defeated?

"I prefer not to think about things I have no control over, Y/n." He finally turned around and his blue eyes looked at yours, though this time, there was something else swirling in them. "Finish your water and head to bed. I don't think you're well enough to tell me a story tonight." You smiled gratefully. Over these past few months, the king had enjoyed the modern world stories you told him. Some were literature classics, like Romeo and Juliet, others were straight up fanfic plots with details missing because he wouldn't have understood them anyways.

You were about to pick up your chalice when suddenly Baldwin fell to the ground.

"Your Majesty!" You rushed over to him, watching him tremble on the ground as he struggled to breathe. You dropped to your knees and attempted to remove his mask, only for him swat your hand away.

"No! You'll get it too!" He said, his eyes screwing shut in pain. He was worried about you contracting leprosy.

"Just- trust me." You pursed your lips as you moved his hand away and removed his mask, before removing the white veil underneath it, which was there to prevent his peeling skin and sores from sticking to the iron mask.

You didn't gasp when you saw his disfigured face. No, you'd seen it already when they constructed his face using modern technology. You touched his forehead with your palm, noticing how warm it was. This was one of his leprosy fevers, it was serious and quiet painful. But you already know he doesn't die until 1185 and it's still 1180.

"I'll go fetch the physician-"

"No!" Baldwin yelled, struggling to breathe. "No- just-" He suddenly whimpered as pain shot through every fiber of his body, making him dig his heels into the ground. Your heart wrenched at the sight.

"Its- too- hot- i-" you looked around before grabbing your chalice and bringing it to his lips, holding his head in your lap, you helped him drink the water. He drank it all, his forehead now covered in sweat and his face still contorted in pain. You held his hand and squeezed it.

"Its okay, Baldwin. I'm here. I'm right here." You whispered, his head resting in your lap as you gently wiped his forehead with your sleeve.

Baldwin stared up into your worried eyes, and that was the last thing he saw before he passed out.

-

Baldwin woke upto screaming. Opening his eyes, his blurred vision slowly cleared upto watch you and Guy screaming at each other, the latter had his hand clawed into your hair.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOURE TALKING TO, YOU WENCH?!" Guy yelled as he shook you harshly.

"A SPINLESS BEING NOT WORTHY OF BEING CALLED A MAN!" You spat back, eyes red with rage.

Guy's eyes widened at the insult before he raised his hand to strike you, but was stopped by Baldwin.

"Guy! Let her go!" Both of your heads snapped towards the king.

"Y-your Majesty?" Guy couldn't believe his eyes. He survived?

"I said- let. Her. Go!" Baldwin commanded as he stood up and walked over to them, making Guy immeadiately let you go and bow to him. Baldwin's eyes landed on you, and you gave him a small bow.

"Leave." Baldwin commanded, eyes fixed on you.

Guy looked up from his his bowing position. "Your Majesty, I'm so glad you're well-"

"I said, LEAVE!" Baldwin's voice boomed, his eyes never leaving yours. Guy scrambled put of the room quickly, and you started to leave as well, but Baldwin grabbed your wrist.

"Not you." He said, those blue eyes piercing into you. "I- how long was I out?"

"2 weeks." You replied.

Baldwin let out small gasp as he let go of your hand and slowly walked towards the mirror in his room. It was quiet for a minute.

"What... happened?" He asked, looking at his reflection.

"Well, after you fainted, I called in the physicians and they took you to your chambers. They had prepared some medication but were hesitant to apply it on you, fearing they'd contract your disease. So, I convinced them to let me do it since I had already touched you. When I was done, your sister, princess Sibylla and Guy came. Guy asked the physicians when you would be dying, and the physicians said a few days and that this time- you may not wake up from your fever. While your sister broke down, and honestly I'm not trying to create problems for you guys, but you could ask anyone and they'd tell you just how much Guy beamed at the news. Anyways, they both left soon after that. Things were quite for a week, with the physicians coming in to give me the medication to apply on you. Then-" you paused trying not to show your frustration in your voice. "In the second week, Guy started fussing around and throwing tantrums since you didn't die yet. I mean, I was in your room but I could still hear him yelling at the physicians outside about how his coronation was being delayed because you were still here. It pissed me off, but you know me- I'm not one to get into family matters. So I didn't do anything. Then today-! Ugh, he came in while I was in your bathroom and I saw him grabbing a pillow and bringing it near your face. He stopped when I chucked your bible at him- so sorry about that but it was nearest thing next to me- and I just asked what he was doing. And do you know what he said? He had the nerve- THE NERVE to say 'I'm just trying to end his suffering, in fact you should do it. I can't risk contracting leprosy, I'm the future king!' And then I chucked your golden cross at him- again very sorry for that. And then we got into an argument and well- that's what you woke up to."

It was quiet again. You looked at Baldwin staring at his reflection, and for a moment, you thought he wasn't listening to you.

Baldwin nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Y/n. You may go to your room now. I will send in some physicians to check if you've contracted leprosy."

You frowned. "I havent-" but you stopped. How were you supposed to explain to him that you're "vaccinated".

In the mirror, his eyes shifted to you. "I know, but I'd like to know for sure. For my peace of mind."

You nodded. "Look, I'll go apologise to Guy right now-"

"No. There's no need. I'll talk to him myself. You've done enough. Please go to your room and wait for me." Baldwin gave you a small smile and watched you leave.

Moments later, he had a guard fetch the head physician in, who confirmed your story.

"Its true, your Majesty. Y/n risked her life to be with you for the past 2 weeks. She didn't leave the room and would apply medication on you herself, changed your clothes, wiped your sweat and even fed you some soup herself. She seemed very determined- almost as if she knew you'd recover. I'm ashamed to admit that I... I did not think you would." The physician even confirmed all the shit Guy had been doing, but Baldwin didn't need anyone's testimony to know that Guy was planning his downfall- and celebrating it. He wasn't surprised by that.

He was surprised by 2 things:

1. You hadn't contracted leprosy.

2. He was recovering from his disease.

"Its true. As you'd asked, I had done a check up on Y/n and I did not find any signs of leprosy... or any disease. She's as fit as can be!" The physician said in awe.

Baldwin smiled at that, looking at the mirror again. His own skin had begun healing. Many of his sores had already disappeared, and his complexion was returning to normal. And physical appearance was one thing, but Baldwin could even feel himself healthy on the inside. That constant ache in his bones was gone, the fatigue was gone, the suffering was gone.

But how? How could it just go away like that?

It's been 2 days since he woke up, and his health only seems to be improving at an exponential rate. And he's still trying to figure out how he got well out of nowhere. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the events of that night.

All he remembers is falling down, fever enveloping his body so quickly, he felt like he was burning up, and then you were there and you helped him drink-

Baldwin eyes snapped open. It made sense.

He called in the guard and had him fetch his senior council members in his court room.

"I have 2 surprises for you." Baldwin said as he sat on his throne, looking over the members (Sibylla and Guy were also present), all staring and perhaps gawking at how well he looked now. "My disease is cured. I no longer suffer from leprosy." The court immeadiately fell into whispers and mutterings before going silent when he raised a hand. "I know it sounds impossible, but as you can all see, my health has not only improved but in fact I have become stronger. My body is no longer ridden with sores and boils. I no longer wear a mask, neither do I require assistance in walking. In fact, I am even able to use both of my hands to not only use a sword but also-" He pulled out a dagger and aimed it an apple he threw in the air, piercing right through it. "- I am no longer blind in one eye."

The court erupted in cheer, congratulating the king and praising God for saving Baldwin and the kingdom. From his throne, he could see Sibylla clapping in joy and wiping tears from her eyes as she smiled at him, while Guy looked at him in shock.

"Your majesty! What's the other surprise?" One of the members asked.

Baldwin smiled as he stood up.

"I have found a wife. She's the one who healed me."

He looked at the court that had once again erupted into cheer.

"Jerusalem has a new Queen."

-

"What do you mean I can't leave?" You asked the guard who was stationed outside your door.

"Ma'am, as I said before, the king has asked you to wait for him and ordered us to not let you leave until he comes." He said before closing the door again.

You scoffed. Can't leave? Why the hell not?

It's probably because I insulted Guy. He wants to punish me because of that. Will he throw me in the dungeons? Or will he just have my head chopped off?

You pulled out your time machine, the small box in your hands.

Well, I'm not sticking around to find out. Time to leave-

Just then, you heard the door open, making you hide the machine again. Is he finally here?

"Princess Sibylla." You bowed.

She chuckled, grabbing your shoulders. "Now, now. There's no need for that. In fact, I have to be the one bowing to you now." She said before kissing your cheeks. She's always been very humble and kind, and over the past few months, you've developed a good friendship with her.

You gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?" She laughed again. "Oh come on. You don't have to hide it anymore. Tell me, how did you persuade Baldwin to marry?"

"The king is getting married? To who?"

Sibylla raised a brow at you. "To-"

"Sibylla." A voice cut her off.

Baldwin was standing at your door. You bowed quickly, he looked at you before shaking his head at his sister.

"Will you leave? I have to talk to Y/n."

Sibylla nodded as she walked towards the door, but not before giving him a hug and congratulating him.

You two were alone now.

Baldwin had his hands clasped behind him as he walked closer to you.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, eyes shifting to his hands. Is he holding a knife? To punish you for insulting Guy?

"I'm well, all thanks to you." He replied.

"Huh?" You looked at him confused, but your mind was still occupied with his hands. What is he hiding?

I need to delay this and find an escape route to use my time machine. You thought.

"Um- I uh- I heard you're getting married." You gulped, eyes still fixed on his hands, trying to anticipate any sudden movements.

"I am."

"Oh um, congratulations."

"Thank you." Baldwin said, tilting his head slightly at your wide eyes fixed on his hidden hands.

Cute.

"Y/n." He called out to you.

"Look, if you- if you're still mad at me about what I said to Guy, I apologise. But- but just so you know, I- I DONT THINKS ITS GOOD OMEN TO MURDER ME BEFORE YOU GET MARRIED!"

"Y/n."

"I WILL HAUNT YOU-! IM SORRY BUT I WILL AND I WILL HAUNT YOUR WIFE AND YOUR KIDS-"

"Y/n!" You looked at him as he stared at you with amusement. "You're being ridiculous."

"Huh?"

With one hand, he cupped your cheek as he brought himself closer.

"Why would I kill my soon-to-be wife?"

What? Wait-

"What?!" You shrieked backing away. "What kind of joke is that?!"

Baldwin looked insulted. "I wouldn't joke about this. You're very important to me."

"No- I- what?!"

He sighed as he sat on your bed. "Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? You saved me from an incurable disease, clearly you're the Chosen One, sent to me by God, and now I'll marry you."

You looked at him perplexed. "What are you talking about?! Saved you? All I did was help you drink water, apply your medication and-" you paused.

Helped him drink water... from my chalice... the one with... the medicinal vial.

"No." You covered your mouth in shock. What have I done?! This would change history completely! Shit. Shit. shit shit shit-

"Yes. You dont have to be so worried. The council is actually quiet happy that Im marrying someone, and they agree that there is no better match than the woman who saved my life-"

"I did not save your life!"

"Of course, you did. You gave your chalice-" "How is that even possible?! It only had water!" "Water that touched your lips first. Of course, it mustve been your essence, your saliva that healed me-" "Ew, no. Do you even yourself?! This is all unbelievable!"

Baldwin furrowed his brows slightly. "Its... not. I mean, look at you. You spent weeks taking care of me, you touched me, and yet did not even show signs of any illness, let alone leprosy! Of course, youre the chosen one!"

"I am not the chosen one!" You yelled as you pulled at your hair frustratedly. How could you fuck up so bad? If Baldwin really is cured, then history will be changed- and it will have disastrous impacts on future-

Baldwin pulled your hands away from your hair, tutting at you. "Dont do that. Youre the Queen, you cant hurt yourself."

"I am not the Queen."

He nodded. "Yet. But you are a princess now." Baldwin said as he pulled out the box hed been hiding behind his back all this time. Before you could even react, he'd already pulled out the big gold ring with a sapphire that had tiny diamonds around it and he slipped the ring onto your finger. You gawked at the ring making him chuckle.

Baldwin bent down to kiss your forehead sweetly before tapping your cheek admonishingly.

"Now, no hurting yourself princess. I want my queen in perfect health." Your cheeks reddened at how close he was, making him laugh even more as he pecked your forehead again and turned to leave.

You couldn't even say anything, he'd left you speechless. He looked back once, a lazy smile on his face.

"I should leave you to rest now, before Sibylla returns and starts pestering you with wedding preparations. She told me that shed been looking forward to this day for a very long time."

so this is part 1. thoughts????

PART 2 here!

[infamous-if]

CH3 [140K WORDS] UPDATE + A LESSON

Hi guys! sorry for the delay there was a reason for it

I fucked up my files and lost all the work I did over the few months for the chapter 2 rewrite...like all of it, im really bummed out about it. and like an idiot ive been playtesting the wrong, unfinished outdated chapter 2 lol

im ngl I did have a pretty long cry earlier which is why I took a while...and im crying now writing this lol

I know it's a wip and these things happen but I worked really hard on 200k+ words of chapter 2 to see it improved and to see it all gone and fucked up really really sucks. I value infamous really highly and am pretty hard on myself so when I dont feel like I deliver what I want to deliver it's really hard for me to move on from that. I was really excited to have this all out at once and now I feel completely disheartened. I know I just have to pick myself up and just get back to work and rewrite chapter 2 but right now im just really upset

anyway, sorry to kill the mood this is probably the worst vibe killer ever lmao I hope everyone is excited! I said I was going to release chapter 3 for band tier and thats what im doing. You'll play the prologue + chapter 1 but will have to input some variable stuff for chapter 3. I hope having chapter 3 can make up for the loss of chapter 2

Chapter 3 is 140K words.

What to expect:

perform the first week and see the outcome

quality time with ROs

drama

angst

there is an explicit scene with an RO (it's skippable) so be mindful of that !

forgot to mention that I am completely rehauling the stats (again) as well due to the new flavor text options in chapter 1 because I feel like the stats still dont encompass the broad range now that there's different canonical types of MCs but yeah not like it matters rn since you'll just input it in aha!

I find chapter 3 to be the most lighthearted of all chapters for me so I hope you guys like it. if there's any inconsistencies (there might be due to lack of chapter 2 context or whatnot), errors, passages missing etc etc.

ill be around to fix any bugs and stuff but I think im going to take a day or two to refresh because im really fucking sad lol

hope you guys enjoy it!

available for band tier

[watchmegetobsessed]

BEHIND BARS

A/N: this fic is my coping mechanism with my own shit and im more than eager to read your thoughts, because it would help me knowing im not alone with these thoughts. so this one goes out to all the big girlies who struggle with loving themselves!

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: You get stood up by your Tinder date, but at the same time you run into a man who works at the bar and seems to be into you. Or that's what you think when you read his message he wrote to your receipt, asking you to return to the bar the next day.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You harbor the delusional thoughts of your date getting caught up in something… anything, just a tad more, just so that the heartache comes a few moments later. It stings, probably more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but you can’t help it. 

Sitting on the barstool in the dimly lit bar you glue your eyes onto your pornstar martini, the second you’ve had since arriving an hour and about five ‘Where are you?’ texts to Brannon before. All of them sit delivered but unread in your messages. You reach for the glass and finish the drink in two big gulps, the alcohol bringing an almost numbing sensation to your closed up throat, but it fades rather fast. 

What hurts the most is that this is not a first date. He met you just three days ago on the coffee date you two arranged once you were over just exchanging messages on that awful dating app you always swear to never download again but end up back on it at one point. It’s not like he would have walked in tonight and could have a shock about your looks, that you do in fact have quite some extra weight, your thighs are thick, curving into your ass that might look good on a better day, but only if it’s covered, because every time you look at it the only thing you see is the stubborn cellulite you can never get rid of. He saw that you’re miles away from having a flat stomach, you weren’t blessed to be the kind of big girl who has a slim waist and beautiful round waist. You often stop in front of the mirror to assess how big your arms look if you wear something sleeveless, how your collarbones only show if you put your hands to your hips and force your shoulders forward to bring them out. 

He saw all of these. Yet he suggested meeting again, pulling you into a ridiculous dream that he might be different and you could finally have the burning, passionate love you’ve always dreamed about.

Now it feels more like a nightmare. 

“Another one?” 

The bartender appears in front of you, one hand on the counter, the other one on his hip as he looks at you with a questioning look. You glance up at him, then at the empty glass and decide to just fuck it and get drunk before going home and raging your fridge for whatever comfort food you can find. 

“Sure. Bring a shot as well.”

“Vodka, tequila, rum or…?”

“Vodka sounds fantastic,” you breathe out as you square your shoulders and run a hand through your hair.

The guy nods and then disappears again. While he is making your drink you decide to have a trip to the bathroom. You wave at the bartender to let him know you’ll be back and when he nods you make your way to the back. 

You chose the bar for tonight, it’s a nice place, feels intimate and… hot, maybe that’s the word you used when you were here with your girlfriends a few weeks ago. It was the perfect spot for a girly night, but the vibe of the place definitely doesn’t limit it to a strictly feminine spot. There were plenty of men around even then and one mysterious man sent over a whole round of drinks, he remained unknown but he was probably enamored by one of your friends.

You were convinced Brannon would like this place and you could see the two of you curled up in a booth, finally overstepping the awkwardness of being around someone you met online. 

Once you’ve done your business you stop in front of the massive mirror next to the sink and have a moment to look at yourself in the overhead lights that bring out everything about your body that you usually fight hard not to think about. You hate it how one inconvenience can make you feel so… ashamed. Hopeless. Worthless. 

Truth is, you’re tired. You’ve had enough of these experiences, though it’s only your second time getting stood up, but it goes under the same cases of going completely unnoticed by men in a social setting, ending up instantly in the friendzone no matter what you do, getting the talk of ‘but I see you as a great friend, I hope we can stay friends’ whenever you dare to come clean about your feelings for someone. It sucks the life out of you and you’re not sure if you have any more left to keep trying. Because the chance of ending up alone anyway has been looming over your head for way too long to ignore it and if it ends up being your reality, you’d rather not waste any more time and energy on trying. 

When the tears start stinging your eyes you turn on your heels and head out, not wanting to have a full blown breakdown in the middle of a bar. Stepping out to the hallway you’re just about to march back to your previous spot to chug down your drinks shamelessly, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside the door, so you collide into someone just as your heels hit the carpeted floor outside the restroom. 

It’s not at all the gracious kind of collision, where the man scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest to stop you from falling. Out of reflex, your hands do find the guy’s chest, but you push yourself away from him fast and panicked, your back hitting the door that just closed behind you and you’d bet a good amount that your expression reeks of shock and the sadness from previously, which is not a gracious combination. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you exhale sharply as your eyes take in the man in front of you. 

Tall, well-built in a black, fitted suit with a black silky shirt underneath the jacket, the first few buttons are left undone, teasing a glimpse of tattoos and a thin necklace with pendants hidden from your vision. His brown hair is trimmed, but not enough to conceal how the strands curl and swirl. Pink lips curl into a smile and you can’t decide the color of his eyes because it’s too dark here, but they appear to be light, even despite how big his pupils are as he is staring back at you. He is holding up his hands in front of him, as if he is readying himself to catch you if you decide to fall anyway. 

“In a hurry?” he asks and his velvety british accent caresses your ears. You blink at him for a couple of moments dumbly before finding your voice to reply.

“No,” is all you say, to which his smile just widens and you catch his eyes dip down, running along your body before they return to your gaze. 

“Be careful then, Angel.”

“Sorry,” you breathe out, finding your balance again as you’re unable to look away from him. 

He is the kind of man that catches every female’s attention upon walking into a room, who could easily just cherry pick who he wants, because women line up in front of him just to earn a glance from him. He looks elegant and lively at the same time, but you instantly feel a sense of mystery and darkness linger around them even despite his warm smile. He is nothing like the men you ever dealt with and he is… way out of your league. 

Lifting your chin you spare him with one last look before walking away, fighting the urge to look back if he is still there or maybe you just imagined him. 

Your drinks are already waiting for you by your seat and you down the shot before you could climb back to your seat. Given the fact that you came with an empty stomach, the alcohol has started working its wonders on you. You feel a low buzz in your chest, a slight numbness in your head and you know the martini in front of you will be your last drink if you want to make it back to your place. 

Your thoughts are still circling around the man in the hallway when you spot him again from the corner of your eyes. Down at the end of the bar, he is talking to the bartender who’s been serving you. His jacket is gone, so you see the silky shirt hanging elegantly from his frame, the fabric shimmering in the light that comes from behind the bar, illuminating the wall of expensive bottles showcased. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing that his left arm is heavily tattooed, but the other one has something as well, but half of it is hidden underneath the shirt. 

He is helping the bartender unload some bottles into the fridge that’s underneath the counter as the talk. When they are down to the last one he stands up and runs a ring-clad hand through his hair and his eyes move up and catch your gaze before you could look away and pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Your cheeks burn up right away as you snap your eyes back at your drink in front of you. With silent prayers that he won’t come closer, you busy yourself with the only thing you can do: drinking. But just as you lift the glass to your lips you see a black form walk up to where you’re sitting and you can’t stop yourself from looking up at him. 

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks with a charming smile, his hands planted onto the counter in front of you, giving you the chance to see the veins running underneath his smooth skin and for a split second you can’t help but imagine what it might feel like to be held by those hands. 

“Um, no, I’m good. Thank you.”

“Good,” he repeats, but it drips with something else, something more, something… heavy. “Waiting for someone?”

His question came out of the blue, you weren’t expecting him to strike up a conversation and start it with that. Your muscles tense and suddenly, after being so drawn to keep looking at the man in front of you, it becomes your priority to avoid his gaze at all cost. 

“No,” you say shortly and take a sip, no, a gulp from your drink. 

What you don’t see is how his face darkens. The smile fades and his eyebrows draw together as he lets his hands fall from the counter and move to cross over his chest. 

You expect him to move away from the rather tensed and awkward scene, but he remains standing in the same spot until you notice him turn around, but just to grab two shot glasses, he fills them up with something that could easily be vodka again, but you wouldn’t know because you don’t see the glass he pours from. Then he turns around and places the shots onto the counter, pushing one a little closer to you. When you look up, you see his head a bit tilted, waiting with a questioning look and an unknown sparkle in his eyes that are green, now you’re sure. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t… Um…”

“Just this one. As an apology on behalf of the piece of shit who is too blind and idiotic to see what he missed out on.”

Your breath is caught in your throat as you stare back at him. For a second, you let yourself believe that there’s more behind his words, that there’s attraction, lust and desire. For you.

But then your usual mechanism kicks in and your mind is quick to turn it around and convince you it’s not at all like that. He just feels sorry for you, it’s only pity, because a man like him would never be interested in a woman like you. 

“Sure,” you whisper with a nod and take the shot. He takes his and holds up, waits for you to do the same. 

Then he gives you a nod with a charming, crooked smile and your eyes remain locked on each other as you both take the shots. It’s vodka and it burns, but you don’t even flinch as you put the glass back onto the counter and watch him snatch it away. He is just about to say something when the bartender calls out for him from the end of the bar, but because you weren’t listening, you miss what his name is. He looks back at you once more and then walks away. 

You don’t see him for the rest of the time you spend there. Finishing the drink you ask to close your tab and then you’re getting ready to leave when the bartender slips the receipt over to you. At first you don’t even pay any attention to it, but then you notice something is different about it. You grab it from the counter and then read the words scribbled onto it with a black marker.

Please come back tomorrow.

You feel like an idiot all day. Trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning and cooking, no matter what you do you always find yourself looking at that damn receipt, reading the words over and over again. Since you left the bar yesterday until this moment, you’ve thought of every possible scenario why he would ask you to return. Realistic ones, ridiculous versions, you thought of them all, but somehow you always ended up settling on the same one, even despite the fact your mind has been fighting hard not to let you believe he could want anything from you. 

It grinds your nerves all day until you decide to act on it. You put on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt with your trusty sneakers, nothing extra, very far from looking fancy and then head back to the bar before you could talk yourself out of it. 

It’s the afternoon on a Sunday, it’s no surprise the place is deserted when you walk in, only a handful of people are lingering around here and there in contrast to the buzz it had yesterday. You try your best to settle the uneasy feeling in your gut as you walk up to the bar. There’s a woman standing behind this time who you didn’t see last night. She’s drying glasses with a cloth since there’s not much to do without anyone sitting on the stools. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks with a bright smile as you walk up to her. 

“Um, I was wondering if the guy who worked last night was working today? Brown hair, tattoos… I don’t… know his name.”

It’s an understatement to say you feel awkward asking around about the guy even though he practically asked you to come back. At least he could have given you his name to avoid appearing like a stalker. 

The woman furrows her eyebrows as she purses her lips, tilting her head.

“I swear I’m not here to make a scene or anything,” you add with a nervous laugh. 

“Ah, I was just thinking. Because I know for a fact that Nico was working last night, but he for sure has no tattoos.”

You swear you saw the tattoos on his chest and arms, you did not just imagine those, but now you’re doubting yourself.

“He, uhh, he wore, like, a black suit and a black, silky shirt… Rings…” This is as far as you can go describing him without adding details you’d rather keep to yourself. Like how his hands looked delicate but rough at the same time, the way his lips curled when he smiled could push all the air out of your lungs and his smooth, velvety voice was like you were wrapped into a warm, soft blanket whenever he talked.

Luckily, you see her face light up at the last few details you just said.

“Oh! You must be…” She doesn’t finish it, just lets her smile stretch wide as she squares her shoulder. “Let me grab him for you,” she then winks and before you could get another word out, she disappears. 

Laying your hands flat on the bar top you start drumming nervously as you wait. A thought flashes through your mind that it was a mistake coming here, trying to convince you to just leave before it’s too late, but you fight it and shove it to the back of your head, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you pull your hands back and start rubbing your palms against your thighs. 

A few seconds later the woman appears from the back with the same wide smile and just when you start to think the man is not here, he follows her out, turning your sanity upside down with just a simple look. 

He is wearing a black t-shirt this time, short sleeved, putting his previously mentioned tattoos on perfect display. The shirt is tucked into a pair of gray dress pants that hug his waist so well, you’re drawn to stare at his body for a few moments as he moves closer behind the bar. 

The bartender woman passes you while the man stops in front of you, a cheeky, but genuine smile tugging on his lips as he leans onto the counter just like how he did yesterday, only this time you see his muscles flex from the movement thanks to the short sleeves. 

“What a pleasure to welcome you back.”

Your knees threaten to give up for a second from hearing his voice again, as if it’s proof that you didn’t just make him up last night, he is not just a mirage. 

Reaching into your purse you pull the receipt out and slide it over to him. 

“You invited me back.”

“I did,” he nods, not even glancing down at the piece of paper, like he doesn’t need to be reminded of what he did. “But I didn’t know you’d actually return.”

Unsure what to say, you allow yourself to assess him, take in his perfectly carved features, the unruly curls, the rings adorning his inviting hands. If you were on your own, just looking at a picture of him, you’d definitely tell yourself it’s too good to be true that a man like him would ever pay you any attention. But having him standing in front of you, feel his burning gaze on you, this magnetic pull that vibrates from him, you’re battling yourself harder than ever.

“I was curious,” you admit at last. 

“Then I’m happy to satisfy your curiosity. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the booths by the wall.

“Won’t you get into trouble?” you ask, but he just gives you a toothy smile as he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about that, Angel. Go ahead and sit, I’ll make us a drink.”

Once you’re turned away and walking towards a booth you let out a long, shaky breath. 

“Get a grip,” you tell yourself as you slide into the booth and try to get comfortable. It’s frustrating a man could have an effect this powerful on you after barely even talking to him. What kind of black magic is he practicing?

A few minutes later you see him walking over to you with two drinks in his hands. One is obviously a pornstar martini for you, the other one you don’t know. It’s in a simple, short glass, one big cube of ice, the drink itself is a nice amber color, you spot a curl of orange peel and some fresh rosemary in it. 

He slips into the booth with ease and moves closer to you than you expected as he places the drinks to the table. 

“Might be best if we started with our names,” he suggests. “I’m Harry.” 

His name rolls off his tongue so ravishingly, you have to stop yourself from repeating after him. He holds out a hand for you that you take. Your skin starts tingling the moment it meets with his warm touch.

“Y/N.”

“Such a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he nods, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it go. 

While you feel a bit awkward, trying to find a way to sit beside him, it appears he is quick to find his place, crossing one leg over the other, his arm closer to you is stretched over the back of the booth, his hand falling somewhere behind you, but it’s not touching you. His other hand is gently playing with his drink, twirling it between his fingers. 

“I know it’s probably not the best thing to start with, but I just have to ask. Last night, were you stood up?”

All your blood rushes to your head and your palms start sweating as you turn your head away embarrassed. You’ve been so caught up in him that you kind of forgot about what Brannon did. 

“Yes,” you whisper, hands dropping into your lap as you nervously fidget with your fingers.

The hand that’s been behind you moves to the side of your face, his knuckles gently brushing across your cheek, just enough to make you turn your head and look at him. 

“Don’t even think for a moment his behavior lessens your worth.”

“I’m not so sure if there’s any left of that to lessen.”

The words leave your mouth before you could even think them through, surprising you with their bluntness. You’re not one to share such personal thoughts with a stranger, not even your closest friends. 

Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression and you half expect him to just let it slip and not acknowledge what you said. But he sticks to that in a way you never experienced.

“I would give an arm to have the chance to show how much I see just after spending only minutes with you.”

You’re speechless and from the hidden smile you notice in the corners of his mouth you assume he finds it entertaining, witnessing the effect he has on you. He grabs his drink from the table and you watch him lazily take a sip before placing it back and leaning forward, getting closer to you, but still not quite crossing an invisible line between the two of you. 

“Y/N, I know this is very straight-forward and I’m aware that we are very much just strangers at this point, but I’m more than eager to change that.”

“Why?” you hear yourself asking in an airy, weak voice. “Because you’re sorry for me?”

Now it’s his turn to be taken aback. The way he frowns almost makes you want to apologize even for asking. 

“Sorry is the last thing I’m feeling right now. And it wasn’t what I felt when you bumped into me last night or when I wrote that message to your receipt. Or… when I sent over that round of drinks to you and your friends not long ago.”

“You what?”

“You were here, maybe a few weeks ago, with your friends, right?”

“I-I was, but…”

“The round of drinks. I sent it.”

“Why?” you ask again and notice the amusement in his look.

“The same reason I wanted you to return today. Because take my breath away and I never give up on the chance to get to know whoever has that effect on me.”

You stare back at him blankly, a million thoughts racing in your head while also not able to put together a coherent one. It is everything you ever wished to experience, but it also feels incredibly odd and… wrong. 

“What kind of twisted game is it you’re playing?”

Harry furrows his eyebrows slightly.

“None. Why are you questioning my intentions so passionately?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you say with a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grab your drink and take two gulps, hoping the alcohol might help you untangle the mess in your head. 

“How is my interest in you ridiculous?”

“Because it is. You cannot sell me that you spotted me among my friends last time, that I was the one who caught your attention and that when you saw me last night again you just had to take your chance to lure me here again so you could talk to me. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

He stays silent and you don’t look at him for a bit, trying to calm your rocketing pulse. But his silence starts to drive you mad again, so you turn to face him and see that unreadable expression on his face again. 

“You’re invalidating my attraction just because you haven’t received it before.” 

It’s like he is reading you like you’re an open book, he looks at you and you can feel him raiding through your mind and you can do nothing against it. 

“It’s actually sad but also exciting to be the first one to give it to you.”

“But why me?” you keep pushing.

“Why do you like pornstar martini?” he asks with a cheeky smile and you decide to ignore how erotic that sounded from him. 

“What?”

“You choose it because you like it, yeah? Why?”

“Because… I don’t know, it tastes… good,” you answer, complete confusion taking over you. 

“See, that is why you. I don’t know it just yet, but I just know that…” He doesn’t finish, but you can hear the rest.

I just know you taste good.

The all too familiar pulse between your legs is making you cross your legs underneath the table, but Harry catches the movement and his grin grows wide, but he doesn’t comment on it, just takes a sip of his drink. 

“We took it very intensely quite suddenly. Let’s just talk and we can return to this matter a bit later,” he suggests then softly, losing that tiny cockiness from his voice for now. “What is there to know about you, Y/N?”

You need a bit of time to recover and actually start telling him about yourself. He asks you about your job, your family, your hobbies, what you like and what you hate, all while giving you his full, undivided attention. Even though he has made it clear he is interested in you, somehow you end up taking the situation with even more caution than usually, but slowly and almost unnoticed, it eases from your gut. 

“Now it’s your turn,” you say, once you’ve had enough of talking about yourself. Just as he is about to start talking, the bartender shows up at the table and you’re convinced she’ll ask him to go back to work. 

“Boss, the supplier was on the phone, they need confirmation until tomorrow morning.”

Boss? 

“Thanks Jenny,” Harry smiles up at her warmly. “I’ll take care of it.” The bartender, Jenny as you learned, nods and then disappears. When Harry looks back at you, it’s apparent he was expecting the questioning look from you. 

“Boss? Did I hear that right?”

“Absolutely did,” he chuckles. 

“So you’re…”

“I won this place. Along with another one downtown and two more over on the West coast.”

You click your tongue as you turn away to have a look around, though you’ve examined the place enough before. It’s not the kind that screams ‘this is my first business, it’s doing fairly well’, but rather one that screams wealth and business. The bar itself is definitely high end, but it’s also connected to the hotel above, so it drives in some great traffic from there as well and of course, it’s a five star hotel, so the guests are usually not the kind who shies away from paying for a nice drink. Adding just the thought of three more places similar to this to the picture is just plainly mind-blowing to you.

And yet, just minutes ago you were convinced he’s a bartender here. 

“You knew I thought you were staff when I asked if you’d get into trouble.” Harry nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because that would have immensely changed the dynamic.”

“No, I–”

“Yes,” he fights back with a meaningful look. “You had a hard time believing I could be interested in you when you thought I was a bartender here. Had you known I owned this place you would have never let go of the power imbalance that comes with the judgment of my position in my business.”

You want to protest, but you can’t. Because you know it well that he is actually right. 

To ease the sudden change in the mood, Harry starts talking about himself and the business as he can tell you’re curious how he ended up as the boss. He tells you how it all started in college, he and a few of his friends came up with the idea of opening a bar and once they graduated he and the one remaining friend who was still into the idea decided to act on it. Niall, the friend, earned a great amount of money from his trust fund after graduation, which they used to the last cent to open the place ten years ago. Feeling guilty that he couldn’t bring as much money into the business in the beginning, Harry tried to make up for it by working twice as hard. As time passed and they opened the second place three years later, Niall started to wander to different fields and only remained a silent partner in the business, letting Harry take over fully. The expansion on the West coast happened just two years ago, but they are already thinking about the next location.

“Are you still friends?” you ask him.

“With Niall? Yes, absolutely. He has his own company in IT security that he actually started from the money of this business. It’s more his world than this now, but we try to meet at least every month when we are in the same city. And I still need his signature on some stuff,” he adds with a chuckle. 

“That’s great it didn’t ruin your friendship. Working together can be risky.”

“I know. We had our ups and downs for sure, but nothing we couldn’t talk through.”

It was amazing to see him talk about it so profound and passionately. It makes him so… humane. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out, he sighs quietly. He ignores the call, but when he looks at you again you know he has to go.

“Y/N, we need to revisit what we talked about earlier, because I have to go soon.”

Your cheeks heat up instantly as you roll your lips into your mouth. 

“What about it?”

“Most importantly we need to talk about when we can meet again.”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes and can’t hold back a smile when you see his cheeky grin as he sits turned towards you, his upper body angled to face you completely. 

“The most convenient would be tomorrow,” he adds shamelessly.

“So soon?”

“I wanted to say I would love to see you in about three hours when we close, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager.”

That makes you laugh and Harry gifts you with a proud, crooked smile.

“Are you sick of this place?”

“Why?”

“Because you could come here tomorrow and I could teach you how to make your drink,” he says, nodding towards your now empty glass. You actually love the idea of that, doing something new in a not so new setting. 

“I can be here by seven.”

“I’ll be waiting for you behind the bar.”

You have never been this eager to put down work at five finally. It doesn’t matter that you still have a few unanswered emails in your inbox, you decide they can wait until tomorrow. 

You haven’t stopped thinking about Harry since you left the bar yesterday. You can’t even remember the last time you were like this, probably in high school when you had a crush in junior year. It’s ridiculous, honestly, but it’s also quite exciting. 

You walk into the bar for the third time in the past three days. You would have guessed that a Monday evening would be just as eventful as Sunday, but apparently a lot of people like to go out for drinks on the first day of the week. It’s not like on Saturday, but about half of the tables are taken. Crossing the place you’re heading straight to the bar, searching for one particular tall figure, but you don’t see him. 

Nico, the bartender from Saturday, is on shift again, though as you reach the bar he doesn’t seem to recognize you. 

“Hi, what can I get you?”

You’re just about to ask him to tell Harry that you arrived when the familiar, velvety voice speaks up right behind you. 

“I have the lady covered, thanks Nico.”

Turning around you’re met with Harry’s warm but cheeky smile as he stands just a couple of feet away from you. Today he is wearing a pair of black dress pants with a black long sleeve, but the sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. There’s a light stubble darkening his jawline, he surely skipped shaving this morning, but you’re not mad about it, it adds a bit of roughness to him. 

“Welcome back, Y/N,” he nods at you.

“Hi,” is all you manage to push out of yourself. He is very much aware of your nervousness, but it just widens his smile. 

“Ready to master the pornstar martini?” he asks as he steps closer and places a hand to the small of your back to usher you behind the bar. 

“Absolutely.”

The two of you settle at the end of the bar so you’re not disturbing the actual service with your little scene. Harry hands you a black apron and he puts one on himself as well after helping you tie yours behind your back. Then the learning starts.

Harry is actually a great bartender himself. As he gathers everything you need for the drink, he tells you how he learned to bartend after opening the place. They had a few times when they fell short on staff and he needed to serve, so he figured it’s best if he just learns it fully rather than just clumsily mixing up the drinks whenever help is needed. 

“What’s your favorite to make?” you ask as you’re cutting the passion fruit in two on a cutting board and Harry examines your every move like a good mentor.

“I think it’s Rum Martinez.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s a Japanese cocktail, pretty smoky and kind of complicated to make. I’ve had it twice, it was always served with a cigar. I only made it once though, but it was fun.”

Harry truly meant it when he said you’d learn how to make your drink. He doesn’t touch anything in the mixing process, only instructs you, clear and patiently as you add the right amounts into the shaker. When you put the top of the shaker on however, he moves behind you and as his arms come round you to grab the shaker along with you, for a few seconds you definitely forget to breathe. 

This close you can smell his cologne, the warmth of his body is melting you against him and when you lean back just the slightest bit he pushes forward to tighten the physical connection between the two of you. 

“Alright. Now, this is how you shake it properly,” he murmurs, his face right next to yours as his hands cover yours on the shaker. 

You let him take the lead as he starts shaking, his warm palms holding your hand against the cool shaker, moving it up and down, left and right in a controlled, rhythmic way. He is giving it quite the force, you feel the ice inside tumble harshly as you keep shaking. 

“Okay, now take the cap off.”

He lets go of the shaker, but remains standing behind you as he instructs you. You do as he said and he reaches past you to bring the glass closer for you. 

“Carefully, but with confidence” he murmurs, one hand moving to cover yours when you start pouring, but too slowly, so he helps you to tilt the right amount. The beautiful yellow liqueur fills up the glass with a perfect layer of foam on top. 

“And finally, the passion fruit.”

He points at the fruit on the cutting board and you take one half, gently dropping it into the middle and watch as it stays afloat with pride. 

“There. You just made your first pornstar martini.”

Harry steps away from behind you and you almost protest, eager to feel his warmth behind you as he comes into your view again, watching you bring the drink to your lips. You take a sip and once you taste it, you can’t hold your smile back.

“It’s amazing.”

“All yours,” he dips his head a bit with a bright smile and you can’t look away from his sparkling eyes. 

The foam of the drink sticks to your upper lip so when you put the glass down you run your tongue over, licking it off and you catch him watching your mouth with obvious hunger, as if he is ready to have a taste from the cocktail, but only from your lips. 

The moment burns and you feel it deep in your chest. Almost unnoticed, you both inch closer and you feel an irresistible pull towards him. Your heart is drumming in your throat and the muscles in your torso tense even at just the thought of kissing him. 

But right when you are about to cross the line Nico’s curse pops your bubble and Harry’s head whips around in alert.

“Shit!” you see Nico jump back from the counter, one hand wrapped around the other, a cutting board with lemons and a knife left behind.

“What happened?” Harry asks, grabbing a rag as he steps closer to assess the situation.

“I wasn’t paying attention and cut my finger,” Nico hisses and you step closer just in time to see him showing the cut. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s bleeding quite heavily.

“Go and clean it out. I’ll cover the bar.”

Nico mumbles a quick thanks as he rushes back before he could bleed on anything behind the bar. Just as he exits, two women walk up to Harry, who switches into bartender mode pretty fast. He gives you a quick ‘I’m sorry’ glance as he takes their order and starts mixing up their drinks. You just give him a reassuring smile and focus on your drink, patiently waiting. 

At first you don’t even pay attention to the conversation the two women strike up with him. But as Harry starts serving a man who walked up to the bar after them you notice how they stayed there and it makes you wonder so you turn your attention to their sugar coated voices. 

“Oh, then we feel honored to be served by the big boss,” the blonde one chuckles, leaning forward just enough so that his shirt tugs down, teasing the view of her cleavage. 

“Just… helping in,” Harry gives a tight-lipped smile, barely even glancing at her as he makes the cocktail. 

“See, I told you it'll be worth coming here on a Monday,” the other one giggles as she gently sways to the soft music that’s playing through the speakers. 

It’s a sight that’s an easy trigger for you. They did nothing wrong other than flirting with a man they find attractive. And you know Harry barely even acknowledged their efforts, but still, it was enough to let that evil little voice out of its cage in the back of your mind. 

They are gorgeous and you’re nothing like them. They are thin and looking around you already see a dozen men looking at them. You can never be like them. 

Deep down you know these thoughts are worthless, but once they take over it’s hard to fight them, to see yourself in a better light. Not when you’ve struggled with this for so long and spent long years to convince yourself it’s all that matters. 

There’s nothing left of the free spirit you were just minutes ago. When this happens you simply close off and want to disappear as fast as possible. For a moment you think of just leaving while Harry is not paying attention, but you’d hate to walk out on him like that so you stay there, trying to take up as little space as physically possible as you finish your drink. 

Nico soon comes back, his left ring finger bandaged up, ready to get back to work, which means Harry is free from bar duty again. He doesn’t hesitate to walk away from the two women and return to you, but you’ve let your spiraling thoughts win by now.

He notices something is wrong the moment he sees you avoid looking into his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, dipping his head to try to get you to look at him. 

“Nothing,” you shake your head, but it’s a weak attempt to mask just how uncomfortable you’re feeling.

“Y/N, I know that’s not true. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” you push, then take a deep breath to help you swallow the bitterness in your mouth. 

There’s a few seconds of pause when you’re convinced he’ll say to end the date and then you already see yourself never coming here to avoid ever running into him. The voice in the back of your mind is already working hard to convince you it’s for the best, that it would have never worked, you’re way too different and sooner or later he would see you the way you see yourself. 

But it never happens. Instead, he silently packs away everything you used for the cocktail and when he’s done, he gently takes your hand and starts to pull you towards the door that leads out to the hotel’s lobby. Confused, but curious, you follow him and don’t say a word until the two of you stop at the elevators.

“Harry, where are we going?”

“Up. To my suite.”

“You have a suite here?”

“I do. Comes with the perks of owning the bar that’s part of the hotel.” 

His hand is still holding yours, warm and gentle, but still confident, especially when he tightens his hold as the elevator arrives and he pulls you inside, pushing the button of the 18th floor. He doesn’t let go of you as the elevator starts moving, you just stand there next to each other without a word until it arrives and the doors slide open. 

Harry once again pulls you with him, striding down the carpeted hallway to the door with the number 1804 next to it. He fishes out a card from his pocket and taps it against the lock that clicks silently, letting him open the door and that’s when his hand falls from yours, letting you walk in first as he holds the door open for you. 

You haven’t been to a hotel this elegant, not as a guest at least. You’ve attended a few conferences but you could only see the lobby and the conference rooms during those, not the rooms or in this case, the suites. 

You walk into a spacious living room  with a minibar, dark purple couches facing the TV mounted onto the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows giving an impeccable view of the city lights. There’s a door on the left and the right, one is probably leading to the bedroom, the other one must be the bathroom and though the doors are closed, you can imagine how good they must be designed.

The suite is definitely not untouched, you see signs of Harry here and there, the envelopes on the coffee table, the single used mug next to them, some sort of hoodie thrown over the back of one of the armchairs and a Macbook lying on the desk next to the TV. 

“It’s permanently reserved for me. I spend so much time at the bar, it’s easier if sometimes I don’t have to drive all the way home and can just stay here,” he explains as you walk further inside, stopping by the window to have a look at the view. 

Slowly, you turn around and look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Why are we here?”

He is standing a few feet away, his hands hidden in his pockets, but his stance feels welcoming and open even despite your closed off behavior. 

“To be alone. I don’t want the circumstances to bother you. I know things can get overwhelming sometimes.”

You remain still, not sure what to say or do. It really has been overwhelming, but only because sometimes your own mind turns against you and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets and cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, but still leaves a bit of space between the two of you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks so softly, it almost makes you want to cry, because he doesn’t feel real, nothing does when it’s about him. You’re so set on how unmatching you feel around him that it’s almost impossible to think otherwise now. 

“I don’t see it,” you reply in a whisper.

“See what?”

“I don’t see what you see in me. I only see my version of myself and it’s… not good.”

The tears are stinging your eyes. You have probably never said these words out loud, but somehow, you feel safe enough with Harry to bring this side of you out, though the fear that he might get fed up with it is still strong in the pit of your stomach. 

You have no idea what kind of reaction you were expecting from him, to be honest you couldn’t imagine a version where he stands his ground and doesn’t agree with all the awful things you harbor about yourself. 

But then he steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face in them as he angles your head so you’re looking up at him, holding you like that, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I want to show you. How I see you.”

His hands slide down to your neck, his thumbs are underneath your chin to keep you in place, his gaze dipping down to your lips a couple of times before settling on your eyes, waiting, silently asking for permission and though you don’t say a single word he understands you.

His first kiss is brief, but confident. His lips press against yours and they open slowly, just enough so that his tongue can tease you before he pulls back, though he doesn’t move far, his nose is still brushing against yours. Opening your eyes you find him looking at you, his otherwise light and bright eyes are now several shades darker, lust dripping from the curled up ends of his lashes as he waits for you to make up your mind whether you want to go further or not. Somehow, his black magic must have worked enough on you to mute that evil voice in the back of your head, the absence of it giving you the chance to give yourself into the moment. 

You push up against him this time eagerly, open mouth meeting his and he’s quick to react with just as much passion. 

One of his hands moves down to your waist and when his fingers dig into the soft flesh you can’t hold back a moan that’s immediately swallowed by him. You fist his shirt, desperately trying to pull closer even though he is entirely pressed up against you. 

Blindly he starts moving, pulling you with him, your kiss never breaking as you move around the couch. Then his lips leave yours and you’re forced to open your eyes just as he sits down on the couch, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he pulls you between his knees and he kisses your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. Out of reflex you try to pull away or avert him somewhere else, but his hands squeeze your thighs as his eyes snap up to meet your gaze.

“How I see you, remember? Let me show you,” he reminds you and though every inch of you is screaming to pull away, you stay.

Harry pushes your shirt up and unbuttons your pants before his hands grab you by the waist. He twists you around and pulls you down on him, so you end up lying half on top of him with your back pressed against his chest. 

“Harry,” you gasp when his right hand starts to slip into your pants and then under your underwear, but his other hand falls to your heaving chest as if he could calm your jumping pulse with just one touch.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to push anything on you.” His lips are by your ear that brushes against them when you nod and just let him do whatever he wants. 

When two of his fingers slip between your wet folds, your lips part with a sigh, your head rolling back to his shoulder just from his touch. He is gentle but determined, starts off by just moving those two fingers up and down, gently applying some pressure at the perfect spots before keep moving. Then they settle on your clit and start drawing circles in a slow pace, playing with the pressure once again, setting your nerves on fire. 

You keep moaning and gasping as you still lie on top of him, his other hand moves underneath your shirt, but it doesn’t go further up just yet, only remains flat on your skin. You can’t stop your body from falling into a rhythm, hips buckling, spine arching with certain movements, especially when he starts to gradually increase his pace. 

When a tiny shock rides through your body with a rougher movement one of your hands grabs onto his thigh by your side, fingers digging into his muscles, earning a deep grunt from him that rumbles right underneath you. 

Your other hand snaps to his wrist as you completely lose control over yourself and push his hand a bit further, showing him where and how you need him the most and he is quick to pick up on the clues and add to the sensation. 

“Y/N, Angel, let go for me,” he whispers into your ear and while his hand between your legs doesn’t stop for a moment, the other one finally inches up and cups your breast, kneading it sensually. 

“Harry, I–Ah!” You’ve lost your ability to voice a coherent thought. You have none, the feelings Harry is making you feel have taken over you entirely. 

“I know, I know,” he murmurs and when you turn your head he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips in a deep kiss and while you’re eager to return it, you lose control over your movements when you feel your orgasm tipping you over the edge. It stretches and teases and then it washes over you like a tidal wave. 

Gasping for air, your back arches and your nails dig into his wrist and thigh, you hear him say something but his words are tuned out, you hear or see nothing, only feel.

But you feel everything. 

You have no idea how long it takes for you to calm down and come back to real life. When it happens you realize Harry’s hand has moved away from between your legs and both of them are placed on your stomach, his fingers gently brushing against your skin in a slow rhythm. 

When you find your strength you wiggle around until you’re lying on your stomach, facing him. Even though you were the only one who benefited from the scene you just experienced, you see a deep satisfaction etched across his face as his lips break out into a smile. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you chuckle and pushing yourself up you stretch your neck until your lips meet his. This kiss is different, it’s gentle and slow, but just as meaningful as the ones before. 

“So,” he starts as he reaches up, running his fingers down the side of your face. “Did you see what I see?”

“I… felt it,” you say, part of you afraid of his reaction. But as you watch him, all you see is that same sweet, charming smile you’ve seen from him so many times before.

“That’s a start.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m more than happy to work on it until you really see it.”

Staring at him, you search for something. Anything that gives away the slightest sign that gives away that he is not being genuine, but you find none and it feels heavier than if you did. Completely touched by his words the tears start dwelling in your eyes. 

“Where have you been?” you ask in just a whisper.

“Well…” he breathes out, locking you in his arms. “Behind bars the past ten years,” he says and there’s a heartbeat of silence as you both realize what he just said and the duality of it. 

You both burst out in laughter at the same time.

“Not like that!” he shakes his head.

“I guess there are a lot I don’t know about you, that’s fair.”

“And do you want to know more?” He challenges you. Your laughter fades into just a soft smile.

“I do. Do you want to know more about me?”

“Everything. I want to know everything.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[muli-wam]

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background info: You have been working for Zenin Industries for 2 years now. You started off working as an errand girl, getting coffee for people around the office and whatnot. But one day you suddenly got promoted to being Toji's assistant. And he just happened to be the founder and CEO of the company. You never even met the guy but suddenly you started working right alongside him. Toji had seen you though, unbeknownst to you, and he wanted you by him for some unknown reason. You were oblivious to his motives and he didn't want to reavel his true intentions until now...

Pairings: CEO!Toji x Assistant!Fem!Reader

Cw: slight suggestive behavior (kissing), "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, reader is a nervous wreck, almost getting caught, reader has a pet bunny, Im pretty sure thats all

Wc: 2.7k

A/n: okay reader is kind of a nervous wreck in this chapter so thats why shes acting the way she does, just forewarning. She WILL NOT be like this throughout the entirety of the series.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 chapter 3

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The sound of heels clicking across tiled floors echo throughout the narrow hallway.

Try and focus on your breathing, y/n, You say to yourself.

You grip the to-go bag harder, paper crinkling in your hand as you inch closer to Toji's office. Your breath hitches slightly as you take a deep breath in, before slowly exhaling.

You feel sweaty, and for a moment you wonder why you're feeling this way. Toji always called you to his office so what made this time different?

You ponder on that thought and recall your previous conversation with him over text. He seemed so desperate to see you, which was unusual of him. Especially him.

The heel-clicking stops as you arrive in front of Toji's office door.

You knock once. twice.

Silence.

Until a booming voice sounds through the door.

"Come in," Toji says.

You take a deep breath in before opening it

"Mr. Zenin, I have your lunch," you say, voice cracking in the process.

You make your way to his desk that was situated in front of monsterous tinted floor to ceiling windows.

Plastic plants and abstract nude portraits fill in empty space in his office along with papers and old coffee cups from earlier this morning. The rest of it is taken up by guns still in their casing and knives displayed on empty shelves.

You make a mental note to throw away the cups before you leave.

You set his bag of food onto the glass desk and step back slightly, wiping your clammy palms on your pencil skirt.

"Sit," Toji gestures to the black couch chair that sat in front of his desk. You hesitate for a moment before finally sitting down.

"Did'ya bring lunch or were ya just lying ta me?" Toji questions while taking the contents of food out of the bag.

"I uh... I already ate," you mumble. You slightly wince in pain from rawness on your thumbs due to the amount of skin you picked off the sides of them.

Toji looks at you knowingly before rolling his eyes and pushes over his last onigiri.

"Eat." He demands, and you can't help but comply.

A tense silence fills the room as you chew on your food slower than normal. Your eyes roam anywhere but his as you feel his intense gaze on you.

Toji clears his throat, "So how've you been recently?"

"Seemed pretty backed up with that project you were working on," he says.

"Uh... yeah it was pretty time consuming..." you mumble.

Jesus why did you agree to this. And why were you being so awkward? You're pretty lively around the office any other day but Toji's behavior recently has kind of thrown you off.

"So do you have any pets?" He says after a brief moment.

Your lift your gaze to him and your eyebrows raise slightly, confused by the random question. "Yeah, actually I do. I have a bunny."

Toji seemed to notice your change in behavior and decided to keep going on the topic.

"Hm...whats their name?" He asks while fiddling with a pen. You were about to answer, your rabbits name sitting right on your tounge but your mouth stops in its tracks when your eyes fix your gaze on Tojis attire.

Yeah, you saw his face and yeah its stupidly pretty but you didn't look at him look at him. You didn't take the time to admire him in those suits that were definitely two sizes too small like you usually do- what who said that?

your eyes fix on the sleeves of his button up. They're rolled up to his forearm and damn was that look sexy on him. His muscles looked like they would tear the fabric with even a slight movement.

Your eyes trace the vein that makes its journey down his arm all the way to his hands. You think your drooling at this point.

"Like what you see ma?" Oh shit. He caught you staring. Your eyes widen as you look up at his face to be met with a glowing light that framed his face, making him look ethereal, and his hair was... wait, where did the wind come from?

"Come get a closer look, dollface," Toji says slowly in an over exaggerated, dreamy tone.

"Come on," he prods.

"Come on,"

"Come on,"

"Come-" the light and sparkles dissapear.

"L/n?"

"Y/n." Toji says while waving a hand in your face.

"Hey, ya there?" He questions, smirking slightly.

"What?" You snap out of your daydream of...whatever that was. Did you really just hallucinate that?

"Lost ya there for a sec. What were you thinkin' about, huh?" he asks while manspreading on his chair.

"Uh.. just uh- you know.." you stutter, eyes frantically searching the room but all you see is Toji, Toji, Toji.

He raises an eyebrow. "Me?"

Your eyes widen.

"Wh-what? No what are you talking about...?" You look down, fiddling with the corners of your skirt, until you notice that Toji is standing up and making his way over to you.

He leans against the front of the desk, his leg brushing yours as you peer up at him.

His looming figure leans down, cupping your chin in his hands and tilting your head up.

"Don't be shy, doll." He whispers. Your face heats up and your head feels dizzy and your thumbs are probably bleeding now and you're sweating profusely and You hate sweating.

Your eyes quickly dart from toji's lips, to his eyes, and back to his lips. I should not be doing this, you think to yourself, your mind already thinking of what would happen if you two were caught like this.

Those thoughts get interrupted by Toji's voice.

"Y'gonna answer my question?" he whispers, his face mere inches from yours.

Your body seems frozen in its place as you look at Toji like a deer caught in headlights. But your mind was racing at a mile a minute.

"I-I uh... I wasn't-" you don't even hear sound coming out of your mouth when you speak.

"Were you thinkin' about me, doll?" He rasps.

"Thinkin' about me kissing you?" No, you were not thinking about him kissing you, you were thinking about the fate of your job and future if you give into his seduction, but same thing right?

his thumb moves to your bottom lip, dragging it down and letting go as he watches the way it flicks back into place.

He moves his face closer, his other hand coming to cradle your cheek. Your heart rate picks up and your eyes close, expecting a kiss, and then it happens.

He kisses you.

His soft lips move against yours at a tantalizingly slow pace. Passion, want, and lust fueling Toji's mindless actions.

His large hands come down to grip your blazer, pushing it off your shoulders and onto the floor.

Your head feels dizzy as you hum into the kiss and your lips move in sync with his. Your eyelashes flutter against his cheeks from your close proximity.

Two trembling hands come to wrap around his neck, about to pull him deeper into the kiss as your tongue chases that addicting taste of his lips but-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You quickly get sucked out of your trance when you hear the knock. Swiftly, you pull away from Toji and stand up, smoothing out your skirt and trying to fix your slightly disheveled appearance.

Before Toji even gets the chance to react you are quickly walking towards his door to leave. When you open the door you're met with-

"Hey sweets."

-

Taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @itsmisspoopie @cottonlemonade @tojiswife007 @the-fignewts-ate-aria @ourfinalisation @esmedelacroix @phantomremi

[14dayswithyou]

no way you dropped the biggest river lore in the tags and moved on like it was nothing 😭 can i ask if this is still your intentions with him? bc it sounds like you changed your mind halfway 🤔

im ngl though i really enjoy how ren and river are similar and different to each other, but does that mean river would hurt his angel but leave our friends alone the same way ren would never hurt his angel but would unalive all of our friends? since they're suppose to be each other opposites. i really hope this makes sense 😬 my final question is what is ren doing on thursday? i want to go on a cute pier date again 🩷🌸

@secretkoa asked: and can i hear more about what unsent memory is suppose to be about or is that off limits? idk if i asked this in my previous question so ignore me if i did! thank yuo and remember to drink lots of water 🐸🌱

⌞♥⌝ For those who haven't seen the original post, I want to quickly clarify once more that while River was originally my OC, he's since been picked up and revamped by my friend Jesse/@unsentmemory!!

However, now that Jesse has stepped away from the yandere community, River's fate (and da fate of Unsent Memories) has kinda been put on the sidelines for the foreseeable future.

‼️ Massive Unsent Memories and River spoilers under the cut ‼️ CW for: mentions of gore, torture, mutilation, self-harm, etc.

With all of that being said, yes, Jesse's original intention for River was for him to be your standard "serial killer-turned-yandere once he accidentally catches feelings for his latest victim (Bunny)". The only main difference is that I originally planned for River to be a generic murderer first, whereas Jesse had him become a yandere right off the bat.

You also asked to know more about Unsent Memories, and I think giving a general synopsis(?) would be fine?? ^^ But basically... After getting involved in a car accident, Bunny wakes up with amnesia and gets tricked into thinking that this random guy — whom they've never met before — is their loving, supportive boyfriend named River. In turn, he convinces Bunny that staying in their shared home would be more beneficial than staying in the hospital as it might rekindle some old memories, he'd be able to take care of them, and it would be easier for them to recover at their own pace. But surprise!! River is actually a frequent patron at the Murderer Motel™ and now has trapped Bunny in his Torture Basement®!!! <3 He also maaaay or may not've been the one who hit them with Ren's car as well... ^^ Oopsie daisy hehe

And yeah!! Similar to what you've said, River was also supposed to share (somewhat of) a narrative foil with Ren!! I personally wanted them both to have similar, complimenting vibes with each other — all while having completely different/separate motives and incentives when it comes to the object of their affection. I'm glad to see it was conveyed well enough; even after Jesse's additions to River's characterisation :3 I know I already shared some examples in the previous tags, but I can share a few more:

Where Ren puts Angel's feelings and opinions above his own, River purposefully ignores Bunny's and does everything for his own personal benefit. Essentially, "I'm doing this for you" vs "I'm doing this for me".

While Ren would never dream about harming Angel in any capacity, he's perfectly happy to kidnap, extort, torture, and kill everyone else... In contrast to River, who's accustomed to torturing and brutalising others for his own twisted enjoyment and sees it as a way to show his interest in Bunny.

Kinda silly how Ren claims to be a freelance programmer (but is actually a hacker) and how River claims to work at a music shop (it's a coverup for his second torture chamber lmaoooo).

[CW: implications of SH] Ren is willing to go as far as mentally and physically hurting himself if Angel asks him to, whereas River is willing to physically mutilate Bunny if it means keeping them by his side. [end CW]

With that being said, you can assume that Ren is easily swayed by Angel's words, opinions, and emotions, whereas River can easily sway and manipulate Bunny due to his own feelings and emotions.

This is something I've actually mentioned before, but Ren always prefers things to be tidy, so he often cleans himself up after disposing of his victims. Compared to River, who casually wears the bloodstains with pride and blames it on getting a bit rough with someone else during a boxing match.

It's no secret that Ren is willing to change every aspect of himself to earn Angel's love, and River is willing to change his serial killer ways to return Bunny's love. Da power of friendship and repressed childhood memories gksdgjh T_T /silly

Ren pretends to be a Normal Guy© with tons of empathy to spare, whereas River pretends to be a Regular Person℗ with the heart of a himbo.

I could go on but you get da point lol

So, yeah!! This is essentially the vibes we had planned for River (and Unsent Memories) before Jesse stepped down /pos ^^ I feel like talking vaguely about UM is fine since River only has a small cameo in 14DWY — and I'm sure that if Jesse ever returns from war (/silly), they'll give River muuuuch more justice than I possibly can :3c

[soularsss]

Drawing Likeness: with Tem!

okaay since a few people actually showed interest in me sharing a bit of what I've been doing to figure out how to really capture likeness, specifically Temuera Morrison, I figured id do my best to write it out

I am also going to entice you with some of my recent clone art! (oooh some of it is unreleaaasedd)

I am putting the whole thing under the cut because I have a feeling its going to be long:

Read more!!!

a couple disclaimers before we start

-This is not some definite post about how everyone should be drawing clones, nor is it in any way claiming that this is the right way. This is just my musings as I stare at a mans face for way too long and try to replicate it

-I am inexperienced. As kind as you all are to me, drawing real people is relatively new to me, capturing a persons identity through their features is difficult for anybody, and I am no different. I have watched many a video on likeness and had my share of classes, but If im being honest, i rarely put it into practice successfully. So there'll probably be errors in this post or things i will come back to in a few months and wish I had said/done differently

ANYWAYs you guys get my vibe im just here to ramble and today we are rambling about mr copy paste. I am doing this for Law, my clone boy, because I plan on delving further into oc fanart and I want to put effort into representing him correctly!

SO LETS BEGIN

Before even deciding what specific pose of a person I want to draw, I tend to grab a bunch of references and compile them like so

(all of these can be found on my pinterest)

Why so many? Well, we are about to delve into facial features, so when we are dealing with photos we have to take into account that there are an abundance of circumstances that will influence how a persons face will appear, some of these include:

focal length: All of these are taken on different devices, and focal length can play a big part in distorting faces

age will play a part, your face changes a bunch throughout your life!

lighting, while not as major, can muddy the waters and make it difficult to interpret facial planes and features

SO, to make sure we get a proper grasp of what's really going on, I like to make sure we have lots of options to compare and contrast with.

Next up! What I like to do is block out the main facial features with colour on different layers, the features I block out usually are the general face shape, eyebrows, eyes, nose and lips. But what you are looking for is the defining features of a person, so that could include other things! Maybe a scar, or some particularly prominent cheekbones.

I dont have any rhyme or reason when it comes to picking my colours, all that matters is you can see all the shapes clearly.

Now I may be biased, because Ive been staring at these for 4 hours, but notice how it still looks like Tem? :D

Anyways, now we can break these parts down, and you'll see what I mean about compare and contrast:

We'll start with isolating the facial shape, putting all these next to eachother you'll notice they arent exactly the same (partly because of my shoddy work) But the distinguishing features run through each shape! Namely the very soft rectangular shape I sketched out in the bottom right there. Along with his soft, wide jaw structure.

I did the same for the rest of his features!

You'll notice I highlight the prominent shapes and ratios,

When drawing anything, it is important to start from the very base shapes and build up.

When drawing something you want to look like someone, those shapes relative to other shapes is what makes it look like them.

I didnt use the same technique with his eyes and lips, but I wrote out some helpful info for them! More importantly for his eyes.

When drawing eyes, I find the most important part is where exactly I draw the creases, (along with the overall shape of the eye itself) it is important to understand where those will present themselves with hooded eyes.

NOW, with an understanding of his facial features in place, lets take a detour to colours:

before I start, a couple things to note:

-Temuera morrison versus the clone troopers in the animated shows:

While I love the animated shows they don't exactly stay close to their source material. Im going to link here to an excellent post discussing whitewashing specifically in relation to the clones.

Temuera is Māori, of Te Arawa (Ngāti Whakaue) and Tainui (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Rarua) whakapapa, and also has Scottish and Irish ancestry.

The Māori people are the indigenous Polynesian people of mainland New Zealand (Aotearoa). Māori originated with settlers from East Polynesia. Māori people often vary in skin tone, Skin colour doesn't determine ethnicity. There's often a correlation but it's not a requirement.

But that is a tangent! What we are aiming for is to stay true to Temuera.

Bringing back my reference photos from before, Ive colour picked a buncha values and theyre all over the place. Why doesnt this work?

Similarly to earlier, you have to take into account the photos themselves. Many things like lighting, colour grading (when it comes to filmography) and makeup, can alter how a skin colour presents in photo.

You can attempt to get true to life by swatching from certain places on the face. Here I've tried to pick some photos with good lighting, and I've also tried to avoid overly lit/shaded areas.

Tem has a very warm, tan skin tone, Instead of colour picking I tend to try and replicate it myself, but I do often bring in references to make sure Im staying true to the source!

a brief intermission to talk about colour theory, something I myself struggle with alot. Often, when putting in flat colours without a background, I will forget to make sure the colours i intend to use will work with the skin tone i have picked! (something that is apparent in older works of mine, not just in relation to clones, but in general, the colours I end up with stray largely from their original sources and it is something I am doing my best to keep in mind and improve in! Although I don't think i am nearly experienced enough in the topic to say I have succeeded yet lol.)

anyways back to Tem :))

Now we can put all of that into practice! Things to keep in mind when drawing out a piece next to a reference like this:

the distance between the eyebrows? how far down his face does his nose go? Basically just, in relation to eachother, where do all those shapes we found earlier, sit?

The screenshot above is from before I did it myself, but instead of directly tracing from the reference, a handy trick I use it to complete your sketch first, and then overlay a traced version to see where your inconsistencies are! Alternatively, you could move your sketch over the image, but I didnt do it that way so!! uh!! im sure it works exactly the same!!!!

When it comes to a final illustration, or any sketch that isnt a direct study, of course you can push and pull and stylise! You'll see below that I'm not exactly 1:1 to my reference photo either.

The important thing with stylisation, or at least my own personal understanding of stylisation is that you need to thoroughly understand the thing you are stylizing! "You need to know the rules to break them" and all that. While shapes, lines and rendering can change, when it comes to drawing someone, and making it look like them, you have to make sure to keep their core features true to source. Caricature can capture a persons vibe whilst drastically exaggerating features, but it will only look like them if you KEEP THOSE FEATURES!!!! SHAPES!!! AHHH!!

But that is just my perspective on the discussion of style versus realism, please dont take is as Law, I dont know what Im on about half the time!!

anyways, after fixing your sketch, add local colours!

I rexified him because why tf not! But this is where you can go crazy with that clone personalization!

And then here is a very very barely rendered version (if you guys want me to explain how i RENDER that would need to be a completely different post, and I havent had anyone ask about it yet so who knows! maybe one day) But I digress, hopefully you learnt something new through my ramblings! It has certainly helped me organize my thoughts and I have also found some areas I would like to focus more on in the future to improve my own art!

TLDR: In order to understand an object, be it a face or a building or literally anything, you have to break it down to its simplest forms, understanding LARGER shapes will help you immensely in the long run

If you guys like this sorta content do let me know! I'd be down to do similar things for armor/anything really, I am very anti gatekeep so really anything at all you want to know! Send me an ask :))

also if you see a spelling mistake.. i don’t know how that got there

[not-rigel]

Always take care of you

Rating: E

warnings: butch4butch, brothel, smut, switch sevika, fingering r! recieving, cunnilingus r!recieving, edging, praise kink, use of "good boy", riding, emotional sex, aftercare, lets hope i'm not missing anything important

A/N: this is written to be read as butch4butch but i tried not to use many descriptors for reader. butches i love you sm and you deserve a sweet treat

WC: 6.1k!!!! (im sorry i got so fucking carried away)

It’s been weeks since the news of Silco’s death spread across Zaun. Silco's death left a massive power vacuum in the Undercity, displacing several people in the following turf wars, yourself included. You moved deeper into the Undercity, following the demands for your services. Where there's power, demand for sex is right behind. 

Your line of work is rewarding, monetarily and emotionally. It was something that was suggested to you long ago. Not quite in the way some of the other workers you've encountered were. You had always liked to support and service others. You liked validating people in ways they never understood they needed. If you could help someone through their struggles and be told “I needed this. Thank you.” you were happy. So when a friend mentioned that sex work is another way to help others, you didn't need much time to think it over. 

It took a few days to find work again at The Gardens. The atmosphere was a little different than your original brothel but a brothel nonetheless. The clientele here was more diverse. You were surprised at the range of people who walk through the doors. There would be couples looking to spice up their love life. Released prisoners that struggle to transition back into life and dating. Even overlords who are overworked without time for dating. It is beautiful to see all the people coming in, bonding over sex. 

Despite the clientele being diverse, the workers weren't quite as varied. Even with having several men working at The Gardens, you were the most masculine person working there. All the men were pretty, long eyelashes and high cheekbones. All the women were showstopping, dressed head to toe in sparking fabrics and adorned with accessories. And it is fine with you to not be “pretty”. You preferred the masculine pet names and compliments. It ended up working to your advantage, attracting femme clients. 

You're ten hours into your shift with a little over two hours left to go. You have a new client that paid for a full hour and your final hour is still unbooked. It's all fine by you, having made more than enough money tonight. 

The time you have between sessions passes quickly and you smooth over your clothes before walking over to your designated room. All you know about your next client is her name, Sevika, that she is trying to band the Undercity together and is rumored to be phenomenal at sex. Naturally, gossip occurs at brothels so it's not uncommon for you to know a few facts behind each name. 

You arrive at the curtains that separates the room from the hall, pinching the fabric and pulling it open enough to enter. Her aura is what you notice first. She sits legs spread on the sofa. It's a power pose, dominant and in charge. The more you take in her appearance, the more excited you feel. There have been several times you have found yourself attracted to your clients and she was incredibly attractive. She's the most masculine woman you've had as a client. Sharp jaw, short hair and thick eyebrows. For a moment you wonder if she is aware of who she's booked. You attracted the femme crowd exclusively. 

She looks you over, hand coming up to cover her mouth. There's a glimmer of a smile in her eyes, a sparkle so quick you almost miss it. So maybe she is aware of what she's paying for.  

To Sevika, you were a dream brought to life. It was how you dressed, how you held your posture, your hands, your expressions. Small little things that gave the masculine vibe. Babette wasn't fucking kidding when she told Sevika she'd “recently hired someone that was just your type.” She's been a regular at the brothel for years. Each pretty, glittering face blending together over the years. Your face couldn't blend in even if Sevika tried. 

You take in a breath to ask her how she wants to proceed but she beats you to it “I want a contract.” she says simply, cutting straight to the point. 

You pinch your eyebrows in confusion, “What?” 

This was an odd request. Contracts, or sexual agreement forms, were usually reserved for workers with regular clients. When clear boundaries needed to be placed for the complex dynamics in a long term relationship. They leave no space for uncertainty. Knowing exactly what your clients want also rids the need to ask every time. 

Sevika shakes her head, breathing out a little laugh-like huff through her nose, “A contract. Where we'll go over preferences then agree and sign.” 

“I know all that I am… confused. You're not my regular,” you explain.  

“Gotta start somewhere. Don't see any point in waiting. I want a contract with you,” she says it so sincerely, looking you right in the eyes as she does. 

Your heart flutters a little. It seems like she is attracted to you, unless you're misunderstanding her demand for a contract. Everyone at The Garden's told you contracts were a big deal but Sevika will be your first. 

“Okay. Um, I have to get them from Babette's office. Will that be alright?” you ask, not wanting to leave her alone while she is paying for your services. 

“Go, I’ll be here,” she grants, nodding toward the curtain.

“Alright. I'll be right back.” 

“And bring two,” she calls out before you leave.

“You need an extra copy?” 

“No.” 

You want to ask what she means but with each minute that passes without servicing her, the more guilt settles in. You leave the room, rushing to Babette's office to complete Sevika’s request. Babette is shocked to see you when you draw open the curtain to her office. 

“Aren't you booked with Sevika, hon? No one comes to my office during her sessions. Is everything alright?” Babette asks. 

“She requested a contract. Asked for an extra copy too” you tell her. 

Babette is taken aback, not shocked for the same reasons you were. She expected Sevika to take a little longer with you from nerves. 

“I honestly thought that girl would take a few visits to make a contract with you. I told her she'd like you,” Babette rambles as she retrieves the documents from her cabinet. She hands you the papers with a couple of pens.  

“Good luck, hon. She's got a lot going on right now. But I'm sure you can handle her.” 

You don't question what Babette could be referring to. Leaving the room, you thank Babette from over your shoulder. You rush back to Sevika’s room, hoping you can still make the most of your limited time. 

“I hope you weren't waiting too long,” you say as you reenter the room. Sevika smiles at you, not hiding it this time. It's a crooked smirk, confident and laid back. The only thing giving her away was her picking at her cuticles.

“Not at all.” She pats the vacant spot next to her on the sofa.  

You take a seat, leaving about two inches of space between you and hand her both contacts. You usually avoided initiating physical contact with your clients, letting them make the first move. You wanted your clients to be comfortable and initiate on their own terms. Sevika scoots over to close the small distance between you, pressing her thigh against yours. You return the press, leaning your shoulder into her as well. She is incredibly warm, heat diffuses from her skin into yours. The heat spreads past your shoulder and thighs, dissolving across your entire body with electric buzzing. 

“I should be honest and say I haven’t had a client with a contract so this process is new to me. I promise that I’ll do my best to service you accordingly” you tell her. 

“I kinda assumed you haven't had one before. With you being new here and all. I'll walk you through it.” 

You chuckle, “You shouldn't have to. It's my job.” 

“It's our contract. We'll do it together. First page,” she counters, clicking her pen. She hands one of the contracts to you. Using her thigh as a writing surface, she prints her name at the top of the page.  

“Answer for yourself. Not what you think I'll like,” she says, filling in her dynamic preferences.

“You mean…?” your words trail off. This is an odd request. Contracts were meant so the workers always know what their clients want. Your wants aren't meant to me on the contract at all. 

“I want you to fill out your wants and your boundaries. More than that, I want you to not think about my wants,” She taps her pen against the page before speaking again, “You probably get it… people assuming that we're automatically tops and dominant because we're butch. I don’t know about you but I sometimes feel stuck in a box.”

You do get it. The assumption that your masculinity automatically translates into authority. The assumption that you didn't need softness too. The feeling that all people see when they look at you is a woman trying to be a man. You're beginning to understand her, what being at The Gardens means for her. The first piece of the puzzle has been set on the table. 

“I get it,” you snort and smile at her, “I completely fucking get it.” 

You make a show of clicking your pen and printing your name at the top of the page. The sexual agreement is several pages long, listing roles, acts, kinks and terms and conditions.You fill out your forms together. It's the calmest you've felt in a long time. 

“You finished the first page yet?” Her thigh pushes against yours again. 

“Yup.” you turn over to the next sheet and nudge her back.

You've made it to the second to last page of the contract, checking off the last box in the fetish section. The bottom of the page says all involved parties must review the agreement together before proceeding to the final page. 

“Ready to review?” you ask, even though you heard Sevika flip her contract back over to the first page two minutes ago. 

“I'm ready. And just cross out anything you don’t like. I won’t mind.”

You swap contracts, and you work on memorizing all of her preferences. Sevika has checked off switch and masochist in the dynamics area. As for sex acts, several of the options have been checked off. The ones you make an effort to commit to memory are vaginal intercourse, anal intercourse, fingering, body worship, cum eating, finger sucking, edging, orgasm control, bondage, sensory deprivation, nipple clamps, biting, scratching, hair-pulling. All checked for receiving and giving. You write a slash through anything you don’t want to do. 

“Can I get you to fill this one out a bit more?” Sevika hands you back your contract, where she’s circled ‘praise kink’, “I want you to add some phrases or what you like to be called.”  

Sevika works fast, on the kink and fetish page already. You take a break from reading over her contract to amend yours. You write “good boy” “perfect” and “you’re doing so good” into the margin. She takes the contract back, eyes widening as she reads what you’ve written. She risks a glance at you, seeing that you’re watching her. 

“You probably haven’t made it to that page yet but… we got a lot in common,” she chuckles. 

“I can’t wait.” 

Sevika doesn’t look away, and you let her hold eye contact. 

“Can you sit on my lap?” She requests, it's spoken in a whisper. Like she is afraid to ask at all. 

“Yes. Anything,” you assure her. You stand from your spot, slowly moving to settle onto her lap. You sit on her thigh and she hooks her flesh arm under your knees and rests them onto her other thigh. Her mechanical arm supports your lower back. You read over the kinks and fetishes page as her head rests on your shoulder. She was right to say you have a lot in common, every kink is aligned with yours. You see at the bottom of the page, where there is a bit of black space, Sevika has written in “Aftercare is necessary and non-negotiable.” You put a little checkmark next to it. 

“Finished. Anything you want to discuss before we sign?” you ask. 

“What were your no’s?” 

You tell her where your preferences did not align and she takes the news admirably well. She made no changes to your contract. Together, you flip to the final page, filling out your names on both copies. Sevika uses your thigh as a surface to sign. When you’re done she takes your contract and sets them somewhere on the sofa. 

“Well there's about ten minutes left in my hour. We can just sit here,” she lays her head onto your shoulder, face nuzzling your neck. Somehow she has even more warmth to offer, hot breath melting past your skin and muscles and bones. Warmth moves through you in a way that doesn't feel physical. 

“I dont have anyone booked next hour,” you groaned. You cupped the back of her head with one hand, feeling the soft, buzzed hairs of her undercut. You pull her face in closer, so she can warm you even more.  

“Is that flirting or good salesmanship?” she whispers against your skin. 

“Flirting.”  

“Thanks,” she laughs, “But I won’t be able to tonight. Tight schedule.” 

“Then what do we do with your time?”

She cups your jaw, your chin resting in her palm. You lean your face into her hold, waiting for her to make the next move. Her fingertips twitch, another tell that she’s nervous. Another piece of the puzzle clicking into place. You look into her eyes, trying to find her. To know her. 

“I want you to kiss me,” her voice trembles as much as her fingers on your cheeks. You hear the meaning in the words. It's not that she wants to kiss, it's that she wants to be kissed. 

You nod, slanting your face closer to hers. You feel the tingle, that bit of warmth only Sevika gives you when you touch, as you close the distance. You lips meet hers in a soft kiss, her hand that was on your jaw trailed to the back of your neck and her thumb strokes the nape of your neck. You reposition your legs, swinging them over her thighs to straddle her. Sevika moans and pulls you closer, closing the space left between you. Her breast presses into yours, pushing into you with each breath. 

You want to make her melt beneath you, kiss her until she knows softness like she’s never known it before. With the hand that’s cupping her head, you card your fingers through the short strands of her hair. Each tender press of your lips against her made her shudder and sink into the sofa. Each kiss gave you more pieces to the puzzle you’ve been fitting together all night. There are still pieces missing but you start to see the image. Sevika is soft. Sevika is emotional. Sevika is passionate. It's a passion that's been simmering, waiting to be reheated to the boiling point. 

“Sevika,” you whisper against her lips, “All that beauty you have inside… Let it out.” 

She trembles as she pulls you back to the kiss. She let out a soft moan as her eyes fluttered beneath her lids, your kisses making her skin prick with goosebumps. Your fingers running through her hair felt so comforting. Sevika loved giving pleasure for years, something she knows she's good at. Something she used to box herself into doing for years. 

With Zaun on course for war, Sevika lost so much. It's why she went to the brothel in the first place. Needing somewhere to go to make Piltover stop existing. But somehow during the years she dedicated her life to Silco, she became so focused on one goal to see her through every decision she made, all her other wants got pushed away. She forgot how long it's been since she’s been shown tenderness. She forgot how long it's been since she was something other than a brute. In all the years of coming to the brothel trying to escape the knowledge of her life, she never escaped being Silco’s goon. But right now she is in your arms and you are kissing her with tenderness and care and beauty. You’re kissing her the way she deserves. 

You’re startled by a bell, the timer on the wall meant to let you know your session has finished. Against your wants, you separate yourself from her. You cannot begin playing favorites and go against the rules for Sevika. 

“I’m sorry but after the bell I cannot service you any further. But I can walk you out,” you offer, not quite ready to depart. 

Sevika is catching her breath, staring at you with soft, sparkling eyes. It's the look you always strive for from your clients. The look that someone’s felt intimacy after having lost it. She's so beautiful it makes it so hard to follow the rules. 

“Come on. Gotta get you outta here or I’ll have to start charging you,” you urge. 

“Sorry” she stutters, still panting. 

“It’s okay. It’s my responsibility to keep track of the time and give you time to recover. This is on me,” you tell her. 

Sevika stands, struggling to maintain balance. She walks to the curtain, turning to give you one last glance. 

“That was perfect. Wouldn’t want my hour any other way,” she thanked.

“Good. You’re welcome, Sevika.” 

You walk with her to the door and watch as she disappears into the streets. For the first time, Sevika leaves the brothel without at least some level of grinding. This was the least sexual encounter she's had to pay for. But it's the most fulfilled she’s ever felt afterward. She feels whole and at peace. 

It's been almost one day since Sevika’s first session. Almost 24 hours since you kissed her like she is the most beautiful person in the world. The day was slow for you, just three clients so far. Most of your day was spent planning outfits and reviewing your next week's schedule. You sigh as it looks like you'll also spend your last two hours trying to pass time when Miguel taps you on the shoulder. 

“Your last two hours have been booked,” he informs you, “Sevika.” 

Your heart reacts before you do. Outwardly, you nod and thank him. On the inside, you can feel the ghost of Sevika's warmth. 

“Is she here now?” You try not to sound excited but Miguel sees through you. It's an expected reaction, he's even seen girls jump with joy when he tells them they're booked for Sevika. 

“The gold room,” he says, tilting his head toward the hallway. 

You thank him again and speed walk down the hall, shoving the curtain open when you arrive. Sevika is sitting on the circular bed in the middle of the room, fingers tracing over the quilt. 

“Hi,” you say awkwardly. She reaches her hand out, and you walk over to her and take it.  She pulls you in to straddle her lap, needing to recreate the moment from last night. She is even warmer than you remember. Her head buries into your shoulder and she swears it's remolded to fit her head perfectly. 

“I left here the best I've felt in a long time. I need that feeling again,” she confesses into your shoulder. 

“I'll do everything to give you that feeling again. Is there anything you want specifically?”  

“I want you. Wanna see what happens in the moment.”

You support her jaw in your hand and tilt it toward you to pull her into a kiss. Sevika immediately pushes into the kiss, lips desperately moving against yours. There's something different today, something that begs for more than tenderness. You kiss her, trying to pull away at what she wants. 

Sevika groans into your mouth, and your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her. You don't push far, waiting for her reaction. She grabs your hips with her right hand. She seems to favor it, which is understandable considering her mech hand is a giant claw. She flips the two of you over, pressing you down into the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and Sevika climbs over to straddle your hips. 

“Sorry I just… I want you so much,” she groaned, leaning down to trail her lips across your jaw before moving down and kissing your neck. Then a soft bite, followed by gently sucking on the skin she bit. She needs you. 

“Never apologize. I want this just as much,” you moan beneath her, loving the switch between needy Sevika that pleads to be kissed and desperate Sevika that takes what she needs. You tangle your fingers into her hair, holding her against your neck. She continues to lick and kiss at your skin, switching back and forth between firm and soft kisses. 

After a few minutes, her fingers dig under the hem of your shirt, pulling it from your skin. You part from the kiss to give her a nod, lifting your back off the bed so she can pull your shirt off. She stares down at you and her mind is at war with itself. She wants to jump right in with you, know what it's like to feel this closeness paired with the euphoria of sex. She also wants to savor kissing you. 

“Sevika, finish what you started please,” you shiver, dissatisfied with only having your shirt off while she stares at you with hungry, lustful eyes. 

She complies, stripping off the rest of your clothes, kissing the skin she exposes as she removes each garment. All of her kisses have left enough intimacy and warmth to last you a lifetime. But your night is far from over. 

“Strip me,” Sevika gasps, hauling you up off the bed to stand with her. You carefully remove her clothes, peeling back layer after layer. Sevika is covered in muscles, her skin barely restraining them. Scars split her skin, some cutting into her skin. Others discolored and raised. All of her is exquisite. Even though you’re the worker and she is the client, you find yourself needing her. You need her to touch you. 

You grasp her hand and lead her back to the bed. You guide her so the two of you kneel at the center of the bed. You guide her hand, sucking two fingers into your mouth, wetting them before trailing them down your torso. You trace her wet fingers to your cunt then release her hand and  she feels over your folds. Her fingers pass over your clit before moving down to enter you. She slides one long finger into you and you grip her shoulders, whimpering for her. Her finger pumps inside of you, against the sensitive spot within, and she feels you flutter and clench in response. Each pump wettens her fingers even more and makes an obscene, sinful sound.  

“Another,” you whine, needing as much of her as you can get. 

Sevika obeys and another finger enters you, sliding in easily. She moves her fingers in and out at a slow place, building the tension higher and higher. Making your skin grow hotter and hotter. Everytime she fully inserted her fingers back into you, you cannot help but gasp.

“You feel so perfect,” she praised you as she kept thrusting her long fingers. Your brain melts a little from the praise. Her fingers moved faster and you began to roll your hips desperately. You still moan in time with her thrusts, occasionally chanting out a little “uh uh uh fuck yes”. You feel your orgasm creeping up on you and so does Sevika. 

“We didn’t talk about it but.. Do you wanna cum now or can I edge you?” she gasps, still fucking her fingers into you. 

You feel a tingle run through your body, dizzying you with lust, “Yes. please,” you mewl. 

“Tell me when you’re close,” she huffs. She thumbs over your clit, rubbing the bud in circles as her fingers curl inside you. She reacts to each of your moans, thrusting harder when you choke out a gasp. Your orgasm continues to build, pleasure layering inside of your waiting to topple down. 

“Almost there, Sevika. Please,” you whine, grasping her shoulders. He quickens her thumb’s circling of your clit and it pushes you closer to release. 

“I’m going to cum!” you cry, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Sevika removes her fingers and you feel yourself being placed back on top of the cliff the moment before you fall. The tension she’s built retreats in a way you’ve always found addicting. 

“Good boy,” she coos, lifting her hand up to press her fingers to your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and you groan at the praise. With one hand you grab her wrist and with the other you cup her neck. You shove her fingers into her mouth instead, pushing her head further onto her hand.   

Sevika shuts her eyes, savoring the taste and feeling of her fingers on her tongue. You see her eyes roll back beneath her lids. She licks all of your arousal away, tongue swirling over her fingers. Too soon the taste is gone and she is left wanting more. You gave her so many things to want. 

She pushed you, your back hitting the bed. She spreads your legs and you quickly recover from being edged, ready for her again. As she lays down between your thighs, you grip her hair, leading her to your waiting cunt.    

Sevika wastes no time, burying her face between your thighs. Her tongue parts your folds, licking up to flick your clit. She lifts her head to reposition and you see the string of spit that connects you. She dips back down, sucking on your labia. The world tilts, leaving you hanging onto her for dear life. She explores you with deliberate slowness, licking over every twitch of your clit. Your hips push forward to get more of her mouth on you. She responds immediately, her tongue flicking in just the right way. Another orgasm begins to build as she sucks and kisses your clit. 

“I’m almost there,” you warn her, in case she wants to edge you again. 

Sevika doesn’t relent, and you try to hold on. You can feel it in her touch, each kiss to your folds, she wanted you to let go. She wants you to enjoy her, not as a client but as herself. Sevika felt the moment you relented, relaxing your hips so she could grab and pull you where she wanted. Your body trembles and your breaths are ragged as she builds you up again, carefully layering your orgasm up to be perfect. And it is. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth when you begin to wail. You back arches off of the bed but Sevika holds your hips in place. Your other hand leaves her hair to clap over your mouth, both hands muffling your cries. 

Your orgasm is like the tiny rays of light that manage to make it to the Undercity. The sparkling proof that life will find you in the oddest places. Tears pour from your eyes as the light consumes you. Usually your clients are the one that cry, the vulnerability of sex catching up with them. It was always beautiful to you, seeing their humanity come out. But you never experienced it yourself. The flood of safety and joy. You always told your clients that crying after orgasm is nothing more than a fleeting reaction. But this was not fleeting. The tears were just the tip of the iceberg of yourself that were begging to be explored.

When your orgasm ends and your body relaxes into the bed, Sevika crawls up your body, kissing you with your cum.  Her mouth and nose are covered in your slick and she spreads it over your face as she kisses you. She cups your cheeks and wipes your tears away. 

“Now you know how I felt,” she whispers against your lips. 

“Please, I need to make you feel that way. I need to give it to you,” you plead. She cannot give you the most beautiful orgasm in the world and not let you return the favor. 

“You don’t need to try. You already make me feel that way.”

“No. I need you to cum for me and feel it. It’s like you unlocked something in me. Let me do the same for you. Please Sevika. You deserve it.” Those words break her. Everytime Sevika thinks she cannot find something new with you, you prove her wrong. There’s still a part of her that needs to be held. A vulnerability that still needs to be reached. 

“Get the strap,” she pants, flopping over so she is laying on her back. As you locate the harness, a dildo, and lube, Sevika sets pillows under her back. You step into the harness and tighten the straps onto your hips before securing the dildo into the ring. You crawl over to Sevika, kneeling between her parted legs. 

She is beautiful, arousal dripping in beads past her brown folds. Thighs shivering as you squirt lube into your hand and stroke it over your dick. You lean over her, grasping her hand in one of your own while using the other to guide your dick to her cunt. 

“You do absolutely amazing things to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” she whimpers, tears already pricking her eyes. 

“You don’t have to know why. Just believe me when I say you do,” you assure her. You push your hips forward, entering her slowly. Sevika’s legs wrap around your waist, pulling you further into her. You try to pull your hips away to fuck her but her legs keep you locked inside of her. 

“Do you need a moment?” you ask her, stroking her cheek. 

Her eyes dart around, trying to find the right answer, “I think… I’m not ready to give in.” she bites her lip in shame and you pull her lip from her teeth with your thumb. 

“That’s okay. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. We can do something else. Can I pull out?” 

She shakes her head, “I still want this. I want you inside me I just.. I can’t give up,” she cries, tears falling from her eyes. 

“Hey hey hey, if you can’t give, then take,” you offer. It hurts you to see her falling apart after so much progress. But you wouldn't watch her retreat. When she releases her leg lock on you, you tell her you’re going to pull out. She nods and you slowly remove yourself from her, “What do you want? You don’t have to tell me right away. You still have an hour.”  

Sevika thinks for a moment, for how she can have you feel that vulnerability without handing it over too  quickly. It was a sudden scary feeling, the knowledge that she was right there. She felt ashamed for running from the feeling. How could she still be with you if she can’t relent? You said she could take but she was always a giver with pleasure. 

“Can I.. Can I ride you?” she asks. She honestly didn’t even know that’s what she was going to ask for, she just spoke from the heart. 

“Absolutely. Tell me how you want me,” you coax. 

“Lay down?” 

You lay on your back and she straddles your hips, she's still shivering from nerves. 

“Sevika, you don’t have to if you’re not ready,” you assure her. You couldn’t let her do something she didn’t really want. You have half a mind to safeword and just hold her the rest of the session. 

“I’m scared but.. I’m ready. I’m so fucking scared of what I’ll feel,” she admits, sniffling. 

“It’s normal to be scared. I’m right here, Sev. I made you a promise with that contract that I will always take care of you.” 

At your words she dives down and presses her lips to your, kissing you messily. She grabs your hand and places it onto her hip then takes your dick and aligns it with her cunt. Sevika whines as she sinks slowly, needing to take her time. 

“You’re doing amazing. Such a good boy,” you urge, and she whimpers as you praise her. 

She rolls her hips in experimental circles, getting a feel for how much she can take. When she lifts her hips, your dick slides past her g-spot and it helps her understand. It's a little taste of the feeling you had, and she wasn’t scared of it anymore. She drops her hips again and it coaxes a small moan out of you as the strap bumps your clit. She wants to hear more. Sevika lifts her hips and slams back down, your hips jerk up at the force of hers. She sinks over and over onto you, your hips bucking up to meet her. 

“Good fucking boy, taking your pleasure. Just like you deserve." 

Sevika groaned, “No, you’re my good boy. Making me feel special and whole.” 

“You’re so fucking special,” you moaned. 

Sevika grabs the back of your head and helps you sit up. You hold her face as she drops onto your dick, gasping out moans. 

For the first time. Sevika doesn't try to lose herself in the sex. She finds herself. When you hold her and tell her how perfect she is, how much you want her, she feels connected in a way she never has before. Before now, it was an act. Something she needed to do for release and settling for any face to fill her needs. She’d come for sex for years, but you gave her intimacy. While staring into her eyes, you find an agreement there. That no matter what, you're not going to let her go. You're all she has right now to hold onto the world. You hold her head, stroking her cheeks with your thumbs. Tears fall onto your fingertips and you smooth them away. Sevika reached up to hold your hand against her cheek. Sevika is shivering, every cell buzzing with need. But the need was beyond touch or feeling, it's a need of belonging. Every part of Sevika knew she belonged here, grinding onto your dick while looking into your eyes. 

“Don't look away. I need you to keep looking at me like that,” she pleads.

“No. Never. I need you too. Shit, I need you.”

Sevika cums, dripping down your dick and into your lap. It sticks to your thighs and mixes with your own arousal that's been leaking from you since she first sank onto you. Sevika feels like she could breathe underwater, surrounded by peace and comfort without a worry in the world. You watch as her body shakes with the overflow of emotion, feelings of trust and intimacy mixing with warmth and satiation from her orgasm. You feel her fingers tighten on your hand and you don’t let her go. When her eyes open, you wipe away each other's tears. 

She lifts her hips to release you from her and flops down on your chest. You kiss her hair and stroke her cheek. 

“Sevika, I’m so proud of you. Most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever seen,” you whisper into her hair. 

Sevika nuzzles her head into your chest, cuddling to you for more comfort. With that, the last piece of your puzzle is placed, and she becomes clear. Sevika is nowhere near loved as much as she should be. As much as Babette insisted that love has no place in the brothel, the existence of Sevika made the statement untrue. Sevika needed love so badly, and you needed to give it to her. 

“What do you want for aftercare, love?” you ask her, testing out a new pet name. Sevika sighs into your chest and wraps her flesh arm over you, deepening the cuddle. 

“Hold me and tell me you’ll always take care of me.”

You press another kiss to her hair and wrap your arms over her, “Sevika, I’m going to take care of you no matter what. Sexually, emotionally, any way you need. You need so much love and I’ll be here to give you as much as I can. I just hope it's close to what you need.” 

divider by @cafekitsune

[kalki-tarot]

Physical appearance of your Future Spouse - mini pac reading ✧˖°.

pick only one picture and allow me to tap into your energy, please.

pile 01

so! Just before pulling out your cards, i channeled an image of the famous singer "Arman malik" , so your fs may look like them if they are a male or they have those features. I also see that your fs may be blonde and they may have a bunny teeth and a significant jawline too ^^

they are young and athletic, they have a great, muscular figure. They seem to work out a lot or they are well involved in sports. They have a well maintained moustache too. They can be tall to medium height.

they have very soft features, very childike and innocent. They have a fresh look to them, neat and clean. They like to maintain hygiene with their body.

pile 02

your fs can be from a foreign or exotic country. they look different from how people usually look in your country, something about their appearance is unique.

im seeing they like wearing baggy clothes, it's just their style that im picking up. they have a silent and mysterious look to them, dark academia vibes is what i feel about them.

they have black curly hair, and may have soft freckles on their face. they are youthful and sensual. they may like showing off their body or sensual features.

pile 03

we have 3 kings straight in a row! They are someone very masculine and dominating. They look VERY masculine! They have fierce and rough features. A well maintained moustache too.

They come from a wealthy and powerful background and it shows in their appearance and style. They like wearing accessories, expensive perfumes and wrist watches.

Their skin color is tan and their hair are straight and brown. They have a strong aura and straightforward look. They are usually expressionless so it's hard to know what's going on in their mind. They look manly.

[sunkillerlovechild]

ive been thinking about this today and just feel the need to sing praises to it

the last stand fight is literally one of my favourites if not the favourite from D20

and, you know, its probably not the hardest or the most story important one, but god its just so good

like the fact that non of them dropped??? that they didnt even get that injured and yeah on some part it obviously was the dice as it often tends to be in dnd but it was also them showing how well they work together

i feel like they all play into their strengths very well it this fight and they even talk about it in the adventuring party like if it werent for spell casters with area of effect spell the fighters would stand no chance, but also noone else could probably tank all that shit from the purple worm like gorgug

and like the decision from emily axford to disguise herself as the proctor was so good and yeah again luck also played into that but if she didnt do it, there would be no chance at even having that luck

and also her spirit guardians (love that spell) delt so much damage, and adaine coming in with the scatter to move the proctor away, which leads to kristin coming closer to there, which allows her to see kipper whats her face and stop whatever she was about to do

and then theres the exams part which they fully blow out of the park, like im pretty sure there was at least one question from like freshman year like prompts to you for remembering, also them actually attempting the math and essay and the essay actually kind of making sense and being about something that the characters genuinely care about

even if we go back to the dice, fig is struggling it that fight (and honestly the whole season) but because of so many good strategical decisions that emily makes, the impact of the dice is not as big as it could have been, if she had done things differently

also everyones vibe is so good the entire fight, like this fight was not made to be easy, they were probably met to at least drop maybe even multiple times, but they are having fun with it, joking around about the rats and the jellies and honestly its a very on brand fight for the bad kids

i also just remember the amount of nat 20 zac rolled in that fight, like that was insane

[moviecritc]

legally blonde ⋆ logan sargeant smau

pairing: logan sargeant x lawyer!reader (fc: differents girls from pinterest)

summary: everyone casts you as a non-supportive girlfriend, but little they know that you were busy opening you're own law firm

warnings: hate comments

a/n: i've been wanting to write about logan for many many times, and im so proud of how this turned out. im loving writing smau sm

remember that requests are open <33

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

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yourusername im working late cause im a lawyerr

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user1 is this logan sargeants gf??

user2 yess

user3 NO WAY SHE A LAWYERR

logansargeant i'm so proud of you baby 💞

yourusername i love youu sm ��� user1 ok couple goals user4 couples that support each other >>>

user5 she is THAT girl

yourbff the seventh pic??? you're cheating on me??

yourusername i can explain i swear logansargeant back off she's mine yourbff you wish!

user6 yk everyone that's being so lovely in the comments were hating on her two days ago...

user7 SCREAM IT user8 everyone was judging her so hard and meanwhile she was opening her own law firm?? she's like a super hero to me

user9 she's truly an inspiration

user10 girl im going to hire you after i murder vowles for what he did with logan's car in australia

liked by yourusername

user11 she deserves a big apology from all of us

user12 and the people saying she dropped from college?? what the actual fuck user13 FR she literally graduated at fucking 21 user14 everyone who shaded her should feel ashamed

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logansargeant my soft spot and the strongest woman i've ever met 💞

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user1 CUTIESSS

user2 logan is your gf single?

yourusername ugh why i love you so much?

user3 they give major so high school vibes

user4 "you know how to drive, i know laws" or whtv they do in law firms user5 except logan doesn't know how to drive user6 STOP IT

user7 i just heard she studied in harvard??

user6 never beating legally blonde allegations