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#at least it's not the t*e*r*f*s getting ahold of this every so often
gravedangerahead · 4 years
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We stan
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berserk-jewel · 3 years
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SFW ALPHABET with SAGE LESATH
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He'll tease you for showing any affection and vehemently deny being soft on you. He shows affection to you by trying not to run away and (reluctantly) letting you know more about him. He'll also headbutt you and slow blink (like a cat) but completely refuse to acknowledge it.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Sage is the kind of person to always be around or at least show up quickly if you're down. He's not good with the feelings thing but he'll at least take you on a bounty hunt to distract you. If you just need to vent or cry though, he'll sit still for you.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He loves cuddles. I headcannon that this many is super clingy. He's always touching you and leaning against you or wrapping his tail around whatever limb of yours he can reach. He'll also drag you away to nap in a good beam of sunlight in the middle of the day.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
He's so nervous about getting close to anyone and doesn't think he'd be husband material. He wouldn't mind you sticking around though as long as things don't sound too serious. He's very bad at chores though but will help you if you give him very detailed directions.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Very reluctantly! He doesn't want to hurt your feelings and he doesn't want to express his own.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Like I said, commitment makes him nervous. He's definitely not opposed to the two of you living together or being together, just as long as the 'M' word doesn't come up.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He's usually gentle with you and will settle down immediately if he's being rowdy and you ask him to calm down. He's not as gentle emotionally but he'll never go out of his way to hurt your feelings; he's just clumsy with his words when it's time to get serious.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He loves hugs! He loves hugging you! Especially if it's an opportunity to tease you. He hugs tightly usually but he'll also just hug you loosely just to be close to you. If you'd let him, he'd constantly be holding onto you in some way.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Good luck getting him to say it but when he eventually does, you know he really means it. He'll show that he loves you deeply in other ways though.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
He gets very jealous but hates to show it so he'll usually just sulk. Unless you look uncomfortable or he's in a bad mood, he won't intervene. But when he does, he usually just comes up and lurks behind you or pulls you in for a kiss.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
He kisses your head all of the time or he'll kiss you just to distract you. His kisses are always passionate when he's serious though. He's probably taller than you so he'll lean down, but he loves being kissed on his nose or any of his scars.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Sage is surprisingly good around children. Felix and Anisa are both too awkward but kids love having Sage essentially throw them around. He also let's them play with his tail and pull on his ears but you can tell he doesn't like it.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Sage will refuse to get out of bed if it's cold. For a man who doesn't wear a shirt, he's a big baby when it comes to being cold. He'd rather bundle himself under blankets and hold you then out on a shirt.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
When Sage isn't hunting bounties, causing trouble, or drinking, he's hanging around you at night essentially getting underfoot until you drag him to bed.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He's very hesitant to let you or anyone else learn anything important about him. He trusts you though and knows you won't judge but he's still reluctant to admit anything or any of his problems.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He gets frustrated easily and very rarely explodes in anger. He's the type to get into a bar fight and by the end of the night, he's sharing drinks with the other person.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He remembers everything, even things you don't remember telling him. With details about earth, he might not understand what you were talking about but he'll remember.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Literally everything. But probably the first time you stopped him from going berserk. It really made him realize that you trust him not to do anything rash unlike Felix and Anisa.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He's very protective of you! Even if you prove yourself to be capable, he'd prefer to have you close or safely behind him in fights. Essentially, he'd like you to protect him from himself.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Sage's gifts are usually random like a shiny rock he found but he looks so happy when he gives it to you, that you end up liking it too. He's the type to try and think of something significant to get you or do for dates and anniversaries and fail miserably.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Closing you off. Sage's walls are very high but he's slowly letting you scale them bit by bit.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Sage is attractive and knows it but isn't concerned about his looks. His hair is long probably because he's too lazy to cut it. And he keeps it braided because it'll stay out of his way more that way than a simple ponytail.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
If you left for any significant amount of time, Sage will sulk around and be short tempered until you returned. He won't realize he missed you until you returned.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Sage is actually a lot smarter than people give him credit for. I bet he'd be good at puzzles.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Being told what to do. He likes it when you tease him to get him to do something or stop him from going berserk but he hates orders.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
I bet he kicks his feet like he's chasing down a bounty. But my strongest headcannon is that he takes ahold of you at the start of the night and won't release you until you drag yourself from his grip.
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macybeckham7 · 4 years
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Fluff Alphabet - Ben Chilwell
A- Attractive
He thinks you are the full package, he thinks you are a complete worldie, no other girl coming close to you.
B- Baby
You are both young, but you can both see yourself starting a family with eachother, but right now you are enjoying your lives. And getting the practice in for the baby making in the future.
C- Cuddle
Ben is a big cuddler, he loves being in your arms, whether it’s you laying on top of him or him squashing you laying on you. He loves wrapping an arm around you and engulfing you, not letting up until you cuddle him back.
D- Dates
You both aren’t big date fans, but when you do make an effort it’s always something that brings the competitive side of you both and always having bets, which the loser has to do.
E- Everything
‘You are my rainbow’ when he is going through a tough patch, or a bad day you are always there for him at the end of the day. Bringing some colour and some light to help him through and get back on the path.
F- Feelings
When he realised he didn’t care about anything else, he found himself counting down the hours until he gets to see you. Feeling lost when he’s not by your side, it scaring him how much he’s fallen for you so quickly.
G- Gentle
He was the biggest softie, always giving you a gentle lingering touch making sure you are alright. Bringing you into him and engulfing you in a gentle hug, and a tender kiss which always manages to clear your troubles away.
H- Hand
In one way or another Ben always has his hands on you, whether it’s when you snuggle on the sofa and his hands get lost in your hair. Or when you are sat next to each other his hand always find themselves on your thigh. Neither of you are big hand holders but he always grabs ahold of one and shoves it in his coat pocket on cold days. He just loves his hands on you in one form or another.
I- Impression
When he first met you, he couldn’t help but realise how different you were from the other girls. You weren’t afraid to make a fool of yourself and you went with the flow. He finding himself intoxicated with you, hanging onto every single word.
J- Joker
You are always joking, many inside jokes that you mutter to eachother making you both howl with laughter, leaving anyone around you completely dumbfounded about what was funny. Neither of you are big about pranks but you are both willing to do something stupid to make the other laugh.
K- Kisses
He loves peppering kisses over your face watching you squirm underneath him as you try to get away from him. He is always craving your lips, getting needy when he knows you are leaving he tries to squeeze in as many as possible.
L- Love
You are both shy to say it first, you both stepping around the word ‘love’ but telling you both how much you adored each other. But now you both are comfortable saying it, you both bicker about who was the one who said it first. You both telling eachother that you were the romantic one in the relationship.
M- Memories
Last summer, the two of you travelled a lot and made a lot of memories. You went on a few city breaks in Europe, a few places in England and then going on a big holiday to Dubai. The two of you just enjoying each other’s company and being in your own little bubble. You teaching him how to surf and you both trying to speak the language and failing.
N- Nickel
Ben likes buying you gifts, whether it was your favourite treats, going out for dinner, or just buying you some clothes that he saw and thought you’d look nice in. You hate him buying you expensive gifts but when they’re small gifts he knows you’ll love it makes you feel even more loved.
O- Orange
Green. Not only is it colour of your toothbrush that you leave at his house, it’s the only coloured sweets you ever eat, always making him leave the green starbursts for you. Even when he is away from you,he always brings you back the handful of sweets that are green that always makes you happy.
P- Pet Names
Neither of you have your go to pet name, mainly just mixing it up depending on the mood. You both call each other ‘fox’ which seems to be your favourite, as you always come back to that.
Q- Quaint
Boardgames, he loves having games night at least ast once a week and puts all the technical devices to the side and just spends the evening the two of you being competitive over a game of monopoly or scrabble, which usually ends in an argument.
R - Rainy Day
You both liked to get into comfy clothes and baking, having the two of you dancing around the kitchen rapping and singing along loudly. You both then snuggling up on the sofa watching Disney movies and a lot of napping, which you both snap photos of each other and putting it on social media.
S- Sad
Your cooking always cheers him up, he eats your famous cookies and cuddles up to you as you play with his fluffy hair. You giving him the best pep talk and make him feel better about himself.
T- Talking
The two of you can talk about everything, you can go from lightly bickering about something stupid, then to something more serious like where you see the two of you going and where you see yourself in the next 5-10 years.
U- Unencumbered
Your voice, he just likes to listen to speak no matter what you are saying. He can just feel himself get more relaxed the more your calming voice talked to him.
V- Vaunt
You, he is beyond proud of you and everything you have overcome and achieved. He loves having your arm around you and kisses your cheek just to show everyone what a masterpiece he has on his arm and how you are fully his.
W - Wedding
He knew pretty quickly that he could see himself marrying you. He managed to work up his courage, he takes you on a weekend break and on the first more he drops down to one knee and pops the question over breakfast. Which you instantly cry as you say yes before pouncing on him.
X- Xylophone
Anything with Lewis Capaldi, when you first started dating you used to dance around the living room together and whenever it came on the radio you always blasted it up with you both singing at the top of your lungs.
Y- You
‘The Kermit to my Miss Piggy’ you are always joking about how you are both made for each other. Or whenever you are around James he calls you ‘the cheese to my pickle’ just to make you both gag.
Z- Zebra
You are both more cat lovers more than dogs. So it was natural for you both to get yourselves two cats, choosing Persian cats naming them Cappuccino and Milkshake which end up on your social media’s with everyone fallen in love with your new family members.
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lethe-rpg · 4 years
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Joseph Thomas, they named him. Joseph first, because he was the older of the two grandads, and because it was broadly agreed that he’d been a lucky sort of man. The Finedays wanted their son to have that, and all the drive, the grace, whatever it was that kept Joe walking the right way. Thomas second, because he was a good man, a good brother and husband and father, who got in trouble and made trouble and struggled and lost and struggled and won. And that ought to be honoured, too. Joseph Thomas Fineday - or J.T., because Joseph Thomas was the sort of thing you called somebody when they were in for it, and a mouthful besides - didn’t get to know his grandfathers well. Didn’t get to know a lot of things well, in fact, as his mom worked her way around the oil patch, far away from the rez he’d been born on, back in Saskatchewan. Leaving wasn’t an easy choice. But with his dad in the forces, gone for months on end, mom took the chance. For the family, for her son. The money was good; she pushed through night school along the way, set up a contracting business, made more money, made jobs. And when she had to, she could pick it all up and head to the next well. J.T. understood, but he didn’t always want to. Not when he had to get used to new schools and new towns, over, and over, and over. He knew he’d have his mom, and his dad, at least for a while, until the next tour. But mom worked so hard, and the two of them only got so much time together, too - asking for more, for him, seemed ungrateful. So he should just get friends of his own, hey? Only, most of those places they stayed, scattered through the prairie backcountry? Didn’t have too many kids to choose from. And most of those were white. Being one of the few brown faces in the room - or the only one - for a year here, two years there, and so on, putting up with all the bullshit that came with… it wore on him. First, he drew away into books. Tore through tiny libraries and battered secondhand stores. By his teens, that stopped working. Those rare visits home had dried up, cut off by loss, distance, and so on. Those once-precocious grades started sliding, fast. Those “friends” got worse, and J.T. got worse with them, trying to see who he had to be to keep ahold of the few connections he had. It was all sliding apart,  faster and faster - until a dingy school-lunch drama club in northern Alberta managed to hold that shit together. J.T. hadn’t expected it, to say the least. Fought it, for a while. But the lure of bringing something to life, stepping into a story, exploring people and moments and feelings… he couldn’t turn his back on that. Not for long, anyway. And that was just the start. Theater - the act, the history, all of it - became J.T.’s place to be. Wasn’t always easy. The same barriers his dad hit while serving, all the obstacles his mom ran into around the rigs, those homegrown Canadian prejudices, were waiting. But for that feeling, up on stage? J.T. told himself that was worth anything. And he told his students, too, as he somehow fell into teaching, one university improv group and community theatre club at a time. Along the way, he reached out into film, into art, into a world he’d never pictured himself as a part of - and he found that part, became it. Even if his parents didn’t exactly like all this, as a career path, they could love how much it did for their son. And, eventually, J.T. loved it for how much he could do for others, especially kids like he’d been. 
He’d still be doing that, if it weren’t for an exceptionally bad weekend. Exceptionally. A faculty trip out to the interior, a bit of backcountry hiking and so on, that’d sounded like a good time. Be nice to get out of the city, leave Vancouver behind for a couple weeks. So far as risks went, he’d anticipated busted ankles and blisters. Nobody mentioned wolf attacks. The ride to the hospital was long, and bloody. And fucking painful, to say the least. But if he’d gone to pieces, as much as his arm was, well, everybody would have lost it. So J.T. made sure they managed a few laughs, got some real road trip photos, yeah? He kept it up after the stitches went in, after he breezed his way back to work. While trying not to twitch every time he heard a dog growl. Or heave whenever he passed that hellishly nasty staff microwave. Or… there were little things, strange things, that sent him back to the doctor. Until he stopped bothering, because after a few scans and tests and so on, all the man said was that he ought to talk it out with his counsellor, and all his counsellor could do was listen and ask and miss what he meant, which sounded crazier and crazier every time he tried to find a not-crazy way to explain it. So those little things kept piling up, day by day - until it all fell down. Two months ago. Full moon. 
Now, you meet all sorts, in the theatre. Between students and colleagues, J.T.’s collected quite the odd mix of acquaintances - odd enough that somebody was able to suss out just what, exactly, was going on. Lycanthropy has some pretty predictable patterns, after all, and a fresh werewolf has some particular quirks, don’t they? Quinn Cameron, of course, had some personal experience to work from. They were friends - you’ve gotta be decent to whoever’s building your sets - just professionally, maybe, but between that and how jittery J.T. was, he listened when Quinn came around. To actually have someone put a name to it, make it real, was strangely earth-shattering. Or, more accurately, it… ripped the tape off, maybe. That first full moon had cracked J.T.’s world to pieces, broken rules, bent sense and story inside out. By sheer force of will, he’d kept his shit in order. More or less. Held the reality of it at arm’s length, because he had to. Because it shouldn’t be happening. Because it couldn’t be happening. But it was. It was, and he didn’t have any answers, couldn’t even imagine where to look. And as it pressed in on his life, as it tugged and tore at his body, J.T. started to feel something familiar: anger. At circumstances beyond his control, like when he was a kid, pushed around and pulled from place to place. He’d never liked being angry. It was something he wanted less of, wanted to beat and be done with. Hearing the reason, the truth, said - werewolf - didn’t help. What the fuck was that really supposed to mean, anyway? For him? For his plans, unraveling around the full moon, the days next to it, the days further, as he found himself tearing through his apartment night after night, unable to just will away this thing that had chewed its way into his schedule. A busy schedule. At this point, as he arrives in Lethe for what he hopes will be a short stay, J.T.’s trying to see this ridiculous, impossible situation as a temporary inconvenience. If the world’s weird enough for this B-movie bullshit to exist, it better be strange enough for an easy fix to be out there. And, based on what he’s been told, Lethe should be able to supply something like that. Right?
As for his thoughts on Lethe, well, J.T.’s still at the first impressions stage - he’s literally just arrived, and the walk from the inn to city hall has left him a little doubtful, to say the least. It’s weird how weird this place isn’t, given what Quinn told him. As for the Riverborn, or the Council’s shaky standing, or the recent and unfortunately relevant upheaval in the local pack, they didn’t get to that in any detail; at the moment, J.T. isn’t giving it much thought. He has his own problems, and, frankly, he’d like his life to get less strange sooner than later. Should be easy. Sure.
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onegayastronaut · 5 years
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NSFW Alphabet List (Sara Lance)
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Requested by @subjectx17
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Sara loves to cuddle. You’re pretty much a human heat generator, so she loves cuddling to get warm. She also likes just having you in her arms because she gets to feel strong and make you feel protected.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Sara really likes her abs. And her arms. She has always been an athletic person, but the last few years have really toughened her up in terms of having rock-hard muscles. She loves how physically strong she is and how she can protect you no matter what.
Sara loves butts, especially yours. She loves training with you and seeing you work out in tight pants and how she can touch your butt whenever she wants. Sara just loves your butt more than she’d like to admit.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
When the two of you first start dating, Sara enjoys making you cum multiple times per night. She loves seeing you weak for her. As time went on, she’ll let you in on what she likes to do in bed, and will occasionally let you get on top.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sara had a dirty dream about you that hadn’t left her mind. She has had a fantasy of having you bent over the Waverider’s main table and having you right there, but she’s had to stop herself because anybody can walk in on the two of you. Also, she doesn’t think she could do Gideon dirty like that.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Sara has more than her fair share of experience. When the two of you started dating, it took a long time for you to believe that you were the only girl on Sara’s mind. But as time went by, you realized that Sara was truly devoted to you. When it comes to learning what you like, she is a fast learner and does not hesitate to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)
Sara has a lot of different moves that drive you crazy, but she loves taking you from behind. She knows that you love it whenever she takes out her strap on, and she uses this to her advantage. Sara uses both of her hands to wrap around your waist just hard enough to leave marks for the next day as she pounds into you.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Sex with Sara is rarely serious. She loves making you laugh during sex, and it turns her on to be the one to make you so happy. It’s usually lighthearted fun and can last for hours. But if you get put in danger during a mission, post-mission sex is usually hard and rough. She can’t bear even the thought of losing you, and she makes sure that you know it.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Sara has always had her grooming on point, so that has never been much of an issue.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
During the beginning of the relationship, Sara had a lot of intimacy issues that stemmed from her never having a “real” girlfriend to come home to. But as time went on, she realized that being romantic had its perks. She loves showering you with gifts and things that reminded her of you from every time period. Sara also loves showing you off to the other Legends, and you know that she’s always thinking of you.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Sara has gotten used to masturbating, being on a time ship couldn’t solve all of her problems after all. It felt okay, nothing too special. She has always preferred the real thing, and that’s what she got when she met you. There were times when the two of you are in different places, but she knows she’ll see you in a couple of hours anyway. Sara will always try to get ahold of you first before taking matters into her own hands.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Oh Captain, my captain. Sara loves it whenever you call her your Captain when you’re about to have sex. She has been a fairly dominant person for the majority of her life, but seeing you helpless under her gives her a thrill that she has never felt before with anyone else. She also loves it when you turn the tables on her and top her from time to time. The fact that you show her how much you’ve been wanting drives her crazy.
She loves choking you along with some other kinks that involve you being at her mercy. Sara loves being in charge and having power over you. She loves seeing you helpless under her, and she’ll definitely draw things out before giving you what you want. Being able to make you happy is the most important thing to Sara.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Sara is one of the horniest people you’ve ever met, so she’s willing to do you anywhere. Whether it be on the Waverider, your apartment, pretty much any time period, Sara is willing to do you. Sara loves sex in your room at the Waverider because everything looks and smells like you. But she also loves having sex at her room because then she gets to be as loud as she wants without anyone accidentally walking in on the two of you.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
If she catches you wearing anything that she owns (shirts, sweaters, etc) it turns her on beyond belief. She loves being able to sneak up on you and touch you under your clothes. It surprises her how much you genuinely care for her, and she’ll do anything to make sure you know that you’re the only girl on her mind. Being able to touch you in an intimate way in public is how Sara lets you know she’s ready for some private time with you.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Sara is willing to try anything and everything in the bedroom, and she’s tried almost everything people have thrown at her. However, she still hasn’t tried everything with you. She already knows what she likes, and she wants to know if you like what she does. So she’ll usually be the one to introduce you to something that you haven’t even heard of to see if you’ll be willing to give it a try and if it could be enjoyable to you both.
O = Oral (Preference for giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Sara has a lot of experience in terms of giving girls what they like. She knows exactly how to make you feel good and how to make you beg for her to give you relief. When you moan and beg for her, it’s a sign for her to continue doing what she’s doing. Sometimes she’ll stop in the middle and smirk at you as you pout at her and whine. Sara is such a teaser and she pulls all the stops to make you feel good. There will be times when Sara takes her sweet time to make you beg for your Captain.
Whenever Sara is feeling extremely horny, she loves the way you look at her as you’re eating her out. She loves gripping your hair and pushing your face closer to her because she cannot get enough of you. Sara also loves the fact that you will not stop until she’s trembling. It’s your way of getting back at her for making you cum so many times almost every night.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Sara loves being gentle with you, especially when she has been missing you for a while.  She’ll make sure that you know how special you are to her and makes sure to drag everything out before giving you what you need. There are times when she’s feeling especially horny and she’ll be very rough with you. She’ll grab your hips hard enough to leave bruises and gently trace over them when everything is done.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Sara is not above quickies anywhere and everywhere. If she needs you, she will not hesitate to press you against the wall and take you right then and there. She’ll make sure to lock the door and have her way with you, and then walk away like nothing happened after she’s done. Sara loves smirking when she leaves you with messy hair and wobbly legs in between missions, and will innocently ask you if there is anything else she can help you with.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Sara is down to try almost everything with you. As long as both of you are down for it, she’ll be down to try it at least once. But being the role model for the team that she is, she’s not really down to do anything in public where anyone can see her with you. Sex is reserved for just the two of you, and she’s just not comfortable sharing that with anyone else.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Sara is a super assassin who can go all day and all night. And you have when the mood takes you two. Some days are soft and slow where Sara tells you how beautiful you are. There are also times where Sara is rough and dominant and doesn’t stop until your legs are shaking. She can also hold out on herself for a very long time. It isn’t until you’re out of breath that she allows herself to climax along with you.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Sara loves teasing you and making you shake with want for her. She’s an expert in tying people up and blindfolding them, and she uses that experience with you. She loves using vibrators with you, and she’ll watch you fall apart as she plays with you with the vibrator. Sara will turn the vibrator off just as you are about to cum. Even though she loves watching you moan and writhe using toys, she wants to be the one to make you orgasm.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Sara is one of the biggest teasers you have ever met. In public, she will drag things out in the most agonizing way possible. She’ll have a hand very high up your leg, and then she’ll leave like nothing happened. If she can tell you’re turned on, she’ll touch you everywhere and then leave just as you bring your hips up to her. Sara knows how much she turns you on whenever she winks at you from across the table, and will usually whisper in your ear the things that she wants to do to you in private. Sometimes she forgets to turn off the earpieces and the entire team hears something that they never wanted to hear coming from their captain.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Sara loves it whenever you’re loud for her. It shows her that she’s making you feel good, which is the most important thing for her. Sometimes she’ll make little sounds too, but you’re definitely the louder one.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Even though Sara may seem like she loves to just have fun, she also loves it whenever the two of you are being domestic. Whether it be sitting in bed cuddling and watching a movie or surprise kisses during missions, she loves it whenever you remind her that you love her. Captain Lance is so in love.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
Sara’s six-pack and (very) toned arms can take care of everything, especially when it comes to making you feel good.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Sara is ready to go anytime, anywhere. Even though she knows that there is a time and place for everything, there’s no denying that whenever Sara sees you, she pictures you being bent over just for her.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Sara has always been a really light sleeper, but she finds out that being with you helps her fall asleep quicker. Simply feeling your warm body pressed against her makes her eyelids droop, and before she knows it, she’s out like a light. You, on the other hand, has never really had an issue with falling asleep, it’s just that after five rounds with Sara, you were pretty sure you could never walk right again. But you were going to be the last person to complain, since making Sara happy has always been your top priority.
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vronnica · 5 years
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‹ ・ 。 ☾  [ blackpink vc ] hey boys. soz for missing plotting hour and opening… my bf wanted a cheese and wine night, so y’all know i was knocked af for like 12+ hrs. but now i am back and ready for action ! HENNYWAYS,,, i’m acacia ( she/her ), i’m twenty years of age, and i hail from the pst timezone ! i love kpop ( specifically got7 and blackpink. however, my ult bias is vernon from seventeen. if you know, you know. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  ), milk tea, and mac and cheese. sooo sorry you’re all trapped in this rp w/ me. but y’all will learn to adore my 3am messages and casual spam on the dash. with that being said, under the cut you’ll find out more about my piece of shit baby angel, ronnie ! if you want ur muse to be friends with the stereotypical rich bitch. keep on readin bbs ;) psa: if you like this then you’re obligated to plot with me srry but i don’t make the rules. ( i’m jk please like this or i’ll cry. ) i’ll either slide in your IMs or you can contact me on discord @ mlilk#3162
jennie kim & cisfemale • hey, isn’t that veronica moon? she is that twenty-two year old that’s been living in conyers farm for twenty years. did you know her family is worth $18B? no wonder she is so ingenious & haughty. she is known around the estates as the aesthete, after all. 
                                Q U I C K   G U I D E   O F   V E R O N I C A
PINTEREST BOARD
STATISTICS PAGE
RELATIONSHIPS ( WANTED CONNECTIONS )
                                    H E R   D A I L Y   R O U T I N E
in veronica’s dreams, she is the epitome of a morning person. in reality, she’s a two in the afternoon kind of person. however, her schedule does not allow her to do that. so she does everything possible to transform herself into a morning person. new white rays shine through the window as she lies in her queen sized bed. she lifts up the aqua colored silk eye mask and the warm ball of light filtered through her thin eyelids. it takes her a moment to adjust but eventually her eyes flutter open to reveal the exhaust in her chocolate brown hues. she extends her arm out to her bed side table, grabbing ahold of her phone. she clears out the notifications that do not automatically appeal to her and checks the ones that do. after five minutes of procrastinating, she finally slips out of bed.
ronnie trudges her feet against the hardwood floor, making her way over to her bathroom. with a flick of a switch, the bright light from the crystal chandelier fills up the room. she runs herself a bath. filling the tub with lavender and jasmine bath salts. her le soir silk night slip pools around her feet as she climbs into the warm water. she’s completely and utterly relaxed. the time passes too quickly and she’s back on her feet. she wraps the fluffy white towel around her small frame and walks into her closet. winter, her favorite time of the year. she picks out a classic veronica moon outfit. a light orange and black tartan patterned dress paired with her wool cashmere burberry coat. and with a single spritz of her chanel no.5 onto her chest, she’s ready for the day.
                                              B A C K S T O R Y
moon jisung, ( chairman and co-owner of urban place resorts / hotels ) met vanessa ross ( retired model, turned fashion designer ) back in 1995 at one of vanessa’s casting calls. that, of course, was being held at urban place’s gangnam location. it definitely was not love at first sight. vanessa’s serious aura made jisung think she was a lawyer. jisung’s spazzy persona had vanessa thinking, “ this man is the chairman ? ” their relationship remained business. until one day jisung accidentally texted the designer one letter, “ q. ” from there, the relationship blossomed.
october 29, 1996, veronica moon was born, the moon family was complete, and they’re absolutely perfect. two years after she was born, jisung and vanessa decided to make a permanent home in conyers farm. therefore, veronica grew up in a really nice household. nice cars, designer clothes, and every day was a vacation. she was constantly spoiled. always given whatever she wants, whenever she wants. and of course, she’s used to getting her way all the time. ultimately making her: bad and boujee. her family is loaded. ( duh every1′s is. ) and she’s always been surrounded by lots of love and luxury.
being the only child, ronnie never had any consequences. in school, she became sort of a bully. she was very ruthless and cold. she had that, “i’ll do anything to get where i need to be,” personality. and if it meant paying someone to transfer the other student threatening her valedictorian spot, then yes, of course she’d do that. people either hated her or loved her. there was no in between. she kept her clique small. ( yes, a clique, which indeed was very exclusive. invite only. think of regina george or blair waldorf. ) she ran her school and she liked to keep it that way. 
once she graduated she became more of an adult about things. but, old habits die hard. therefore, some of those traits she developed in school still linger with her til this day. just a little more filtered. ( truly, just a tad bit. ) she got accepted into almost every ivy league college. her mother gave her the option to just pass on college. her father on the other hand, encouraged her to go to school to have the major under her belt. ultimately, she decided to go to yale and major in art history. ( she chose yale because it was only a little over an hour away from conyers. ) though, now, most of her classes are being completed online.
present time: veronica is currently taking a semester off school to really think about what she wants to do after she graduates. at the moment, she spends a majority of her time working on her art. growing up she always had an artistic eye. vanessa ( being a fashion designer ) taught her all the techniques when it came to drawing for fashion. though eventually, veronica steered away from the clothing industry and found herself drawing more intricate works of art.
                                           P E R S O N A L I T Y
too long; didn’t read: an angel with a halo unbalanced with horns, not a devil but not a saint either ?? kind yet has a backbone. softer than what she seems like. humorous and witty though understanding. mistrusting but willing to let loyalty speak. wealthy but tries not to depend on her family. stays away from the king glitterati lifestyle and fronts as if she’s just a normal gal livin’ in conyers etcetc.
she has that tell it like it is personality. she just calls it likes she sees it. even if she’s not exactly right. she’s literally drowning in her riches. making her materialistic af. some people might think she’s that dumb bimbo rich bitch. but she’s actually very VERY smart. witty and intelligent to be exact. 
super particular when it comes to most things. ( high maintenance queen. ) she wants things done correctly. so she often runs by the quote, “ if you want things right you gotta do it yourself. ” she absolutely despises like relying on others to get things done when she knows she could do it faster and better. a little bit of a ocd queen. 
her instagram = her job. it’s filled with ootds, selfies, food pics. but most importantly: her art. it’s the platform she uses to show people she isn’t just a pretty rich girl. she has talent. ( *insert "the kardashian's have no talent" - proven wrong in 7 minutes vid.* ) 
she’s very dedicated to her work, thus making her very goal oriented. she’s very creative and she’s actually a very good artist. she’s one of those people that set their mind to something and goes through with it until the end. i’m sure she picked up doodling and bullet journaling while growing up. *plays boss ass bitch vine.*
too long; didn’t read pt. 2: she’s slowly growing out of her tough head of hair and morphing into a young woman so beautiful over the years, but also at times, terrifying ?? self destructive ?? even if she’ll never let anyone see her deteriorate her insides sigh. she’s a hot mess. but she tries her best to hide that shit. yeye sweg.
                                            R E L A T I O N S H I P S
FRIENDSHIPS: she has plenty of friends, at least in her head. in reality, she just knows a lot of people through her many connections. so she has many affiliations. but never real friends. she’s very particular with the people she associates herself with. she believes that those around you reflect who you are as a person as well. therefore, she only surrounds herself with the best of the best. she may not be the best person to tell your secrets too either because she’s quite the gossip queen. but she can probably persuade you to trust her. rip. however, if you are a close friend of her’s, she’s very loyal to those who are loyal to her. which means she’d never do you dirty. but that’s only if she really cares about you. she’s a really great listener and she’s willing to give advice to those are willing to take it. plus, she’s the type to spoil the people she loves. so expect the best christmas gifts ever if u rollin’ with her. 
honestly, she really does need to surround herself with good people with genuinely good intentions. so please, someone teach her what loyalty is. 
bonus points if they’ve been friends for awhile. displays loyalty.
ENEMIES: she was bully in high school. so you know this girl has more than enough enemies ( and haters. ) she uses people, she pushes people around, etc etc. like she has some very evil intentions. she’s vengeful and irrational. she puts fuel to drama and loves to see people crash and burn. why ? she wants that reassurance that she is flourishing above all. she never wants to be belittled and will do anything to remain on the very top. however,,, ronnie does have some good intentions. she leans more to the chaotic neutral side. ( maybe tilted a bit more towards evil, but still. ) deep deeeeep deeeeeeeeeeep down the girl is trust issue central when it comes to letting people in. she can’t help it. she’s like that one rihanna meme, them: you can’t just cut people off. ronnie: *holds a pair of scissors* she doesn’t have problem with letting people go. so people think she’s a bitch because, “how could you just drop our five year long friendship like that.” and she’d just shrug. but really, she’s hurting beyond repair and will go home crying while eating a thing of ben & jerry’s chunky monkey.
there’s always that possibility where a friendship just didn’t work out. maybe they just stopped having time for each other and now it’s just mad awk. whatever it is, an enemy would b beaut.
veronica absolutely needs enemies. give her many. plenty. an abundance please.
LOVERS: i have a feeling she’s dabbled in the dating world. she’s had a few boyfriends, dates, etc. but most likely nothing LONG TERM. possibly because she doesn’t see the point unless it’s for marriage. just like her mom and dad. she has this [ beyoncé vc ] independent woman facade going on right now. which makes her seem like she doesn’t want anyone. but she’s secretly a hopeless romantic. this girl would love to be loved. and she truly needs it. she’s probably read tons of books about love and fluffy shit like that. it’d be a hard mission to win this girl over. but not impossible. she just has high expectations when it comes to relationships. so someone rlly needs to come here and treat this girl right. 
100% dabbles in the quick hook ups for the sake of fulfilling those needs. 
though, if the right person were to come along… she’d be loyal to them, completely devoted to just them.
CONGRATULATIONS ! you made it to end ! if you read all of this… i love you. i only ever write so much bc… it gets me in character lmao. also, i wrote all of this literally the moment i woke up so pls excuse any mistakes. i would really love to plot with everyone. so just slide into my IMs and we can get things started !! luv u *blows a kiss*
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themanicgalaxy · 3 years
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SPN 5X19 Hammer of the Gods
dear LORD I ate too much
ok we're back on track whee
oho creepy plant
this poor guys is DEAD
oh it's an angel?
ooo a nice motel?
boy they look so wrecked haha
ah the PIE
there's something off here, right?
RIGHT?
Sam's not sleeping either oof
"night off" uh are YOU SURE aBOUT THAT
"I'm young at heart" HAHA
well that was quite the THUNK
"the elysian fields" wait
right so they're greek
basically a nice garden, it's like the afterlife
this feels like that one hotel in percy jackson
the same nick as Dean hm
heh the disappearing elephant
ah of course she's evil
~you can check out anytime you like BUT YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE~~
"please be tomato soup" *sees eyeballs*
the unison grimace was fun
ah yes the ages old "somebody behind me"
oh lovely it's gods
there's NO Way this goes poorly
"gods?" AHAH
oh yeah you're screwed
ah they don't want the apocalypse either, because they get fucked over too
THEY ARGUE OVER WHO'S APOCALYPSE IS RIGHT AHAHAHA
that was a good effort guys
you try reasoning with angels just try it
GABRIEL!!!
HE SHUTS THEM UP SO HE CAN DO THE TALKING I LOVE HIM
Baldur..OH THE GUY HE KILLED
THEY'RE SO SHOOKEN UP OH MY GOD AHAHA
AHAHAAH
Gabriel is such a little shit
him and Dean are fun
"I don't care" ha sure
OH WAIT T H A T ' S KALI?? THAT'S THE KALI FROM THE FANFICS??
KALI THE D E S T R O Y E R ?
yeah ok no she's SO hot
ah he's trying to save her
ooo LEVERAGE
boy they're so chill with him
aw Gabe gets his romance
ah she got him Damn
the GHOSTFACERS? WHAT THE F UC CK?
is this..Gabriel processing? what the fuck?
WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS W H A T
WAS IT AN ACTUAL CW AD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE EPISODE?
Gabriel...oh god ur so screwed
all of you are so screwed
"you're the youngest religion, what do you mean you're tearing the world apart"
NO
NO GABRIEL NO
SAM IS PANICKING TOO
yeah this is clearly supposed to be the end
ah summon into the vessel and then kill ok
hey at least he got them out
GABRIEL!! HE'S ALIVE
I am way too attached to this fucker
GABRIEL AND DEAN! SAME COPING MECHANISMS!
"they're your family" o p e
oh there's lucifer
boy he does NOT Look good
...of course he doesn't like the pagans
jesus christ Lucifer is actually iNCREDIBLY THREATENING
rights are taken not given huh
oh jesus Baldur's fucking dead
KALI! FIRE POWER!
GABRIEL
L U C Y
I love squad
you puritanical BASTARD
"I love you but BOY DO YOU SUCK"
..that'S DEAN'S LINE HOLY SHIT
the "they're flawed but a lot of them try to do better instead of covering it up" is SO COOL
"I'm loyal to people" YES GET EM GABRIEL
"don't make me do this" "no one makes us do anything"
no NO NO COME ON NOT AGAIN
NO THE WINGS
no THAT MEANS IT WORKED NO BUT HE COMES BACK?
THERE ARE FIVE MORE MINUTES LEFT?
oh
oh it's Gabriel's recorded DVD version
w h y
he hid it
"if you're watching this I'm dead" and it doesn't even feel like that cliche
THE RINGS A H
he gives them the intel
THEIR FACES
pestilence and death huh
Death's the big boss so it's pestilence next
new flu virus huh
yeah this one isn't gonna be pretty huh
e w
his license plate is sick n tired
lovely
ok
1. GABRIEL and Dean! Ok so I feel like they have similar responses to family, or something like that. Like Dean's a lot better at understanding the dealing with complicated relationships with family members, and both mask it with jokes and they both care about a lot of people but are bad at expressing it. Like ok, back to Dean's charisma. He's got like...no social skills, but he has faith in...people? the concept of family? and that wins people over. It got Gabriel to repeat the words and stand up to his family at least. (also yeah could be lazy writing but I feel like they're written to be similar on purpose?)
2. religions. Ok yeah, I feel like there's something to be said about the other religions, and about how judeo-christianity kinda tried to take everything over, and how there's a lot of stuff still there. Hell, you can make everything a Tulpa and say that they're no longer as believed in so that's why they're so weak. And they clung to the vestiges of their power, while the other guys managed to get ahold of power and Spread.
...huh that "take power" line really escalates huh.
3. I feel like siblings in there. Like that idea of "I love you but you SUCK." the sibling bickering, the "grow up." like...I don't know, that death scene was painful, and a lot of it feels(is) sibling rivalry. Like that's what pushed the angels to this, but since they refuse to accept that they can get better, they never change. I think that was Gabriel's point.
4. something about the horsemen. Like this is just a classic Chekov's gun thing, but also the way they've stylized every horseman is...like Very Supernatural, but it's interesting. Like it's very clear what they're doing and I can even see the good omens inspiration(red vehicle for War is the best example) but it's interesting to see how the vibe of the show impacts their visual style. Because they're there to be antagonists and not much else, so it's vibe we go for I think.
5. GABRIEL. I LOVE THIS CHARACTER! TRICKSTER ARCHETYPE THAT KEEPS RUNNING AWAY! HE HAS ALL THESE IDENTITIES! HE EVENTUALLY EMBRACES THE OTHERS BECAUSE THEY TRY AND CHANGE AND ADAPT! HE STANDS UP TO HIS BROTHER! TELLS HIM TO GROW UP! TELLS SAM AND DEAN INTEL AND GIVES THEM A CLEAR GOAL TO FOLLOW THE REST OF THE SEASON WHEN THEY HAD NO PURPOSE! GODDAMN I L O V E GABRIEL!
6. The way they weren't able to deal with the pagans at ALL, and how they panicked, and the cool as hell visuals with the name tags. God I want more pagan imagery, that shit was COOL, and it makes sense! all these different cultures in America, where are the pagans? and then of course they got taken over because apocalypse
also funny, this episode was funny
actually
7. you can tell this was the planned final season. Gabriel dying, the pagans being introduced to establish stakes, the just...sheer...done-ness of the characters. Everything's being wrapped up in it's own way. Also, it makes me sad we didn't get any before this. There's so much stuff there.
EDIT: OK I FIGURED OUT WHAT I WAS TRYING TO SAY WITH THE PAGANS!
Other than like…the same reason for Dean and Sam, and then ig cas but that’s mostly daddy issues, we don’t have any non nebulous ideas as to why apocalypse bad. We see all the angels give their two cents, and all with varying degrees of belief in that cause(or just going absolutely batshit), and then here we had the pagans(and Gabriel) giving clear, tangible reasons as to why not, they had their own two cents to give, and they were their own form of compelling/washed up. Like…one of them! Maybe kali shows back up again! They were a new perspective, that clearly said no apocalypse, like Gabriel but slightly not! It would have been cool!! They had an interesting plot that ties in with the themes of abandonment, and there wasn’t enough in there! More Gabriel and the pagans would have been Epic!!
This is incoherent I'm sorry
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HoA 07
H E A R T _ O F _ A R S O N
Ulfric has faced many years since the Great War but there is a face that has hung in silence in his mind since then. All those years later, finding that face again would draw new memories to be made in the wake of the war he waged against the claws of the Empire. And the matter of other claws that would sink into the very flesh of Skyrim itself brought its own problems, along with a mysterious stranger. The path of the future was not certain. But the fresh return of that face in his mind brought questions. Ones he felt needed to be answered.
START, PREVIOUS, NEXT
TW: Sexual Themes
               Ulfric stared at his housecarl through half-lidded eyes as he listened to the man give him various reports from all the Stormcloak camps that had come in during the last few days. More dragon sightings but so far the Imperials seemed to have more losses by dragon attacks than Ulfric’s own forces. It appeared that Tullius had not given any of his men the order to move closer to shelter, stand their ground and fight back, which gave the Jarl a bit of an edge.
               He could count on both hands how many soldiers he had lost to dragons and most of them were part of patrol in various towns and Stormcloak-sided holds that had come under attack. Tullius however was losing men by the handful.
               Arson had said that death only made his problem stronger, that dragon he was supposed to stop from bringing about the end of the world, and Ulfric wondered if having some inconspicuous people among his forces send out advice to the Imperial camps might help Arson’s case. If he did and those inconspicuous individuals were found out to be Stormcloak allies, the Imperials would likely think that it was an effort to trick them and only cause more death.
               Ulfric rubbed his mouth.
               Perhaps sending a letter to the Dragonborn for further advice would be in his best interest.
               Arson’s at least. Not so much for the Stormcloak leader.
               Divines only know how long it would take for it to make it to the Dragonborn from the way he liked to occasionally disappear into hiding. Or the more likely thing was he was taking off his disguise and being his actual self as often as he could. That might be why no one could find him.
               But still, it was worth an effort.
               From what he had heard, the only person who had somewhat easy contact with Arson was the Jarl of Whiterun. A stream of contact rather than going by courier. The letter gets handed off to one person to another to another to another until it reached the Dragonborn. Perhaps it was in Ulfric’s best interest as well to find out just whose hands the letters were passing through to get in touch with Arson faster.
               He would send a courier out first, see how that worked out.
               Hopefully it would reach Arson quickly.
               “Send an extra shipment of provisions to the camps. I would prefer they wait out a dragon attack in the shelters rather than fight back against the beasts,” Ulfric instructed his housecarl before he uncapped his ink well and picked up his quill to start forging a letter to Arson, a simple but short request asking for his presence in Windhelm.
               As he placed the last punctuation and signed his name, the thought of a particular bard crossed his mind.
               That had been happening a lot lately since he and Loriel had their long talk two weeks ago.
               At first it was only once or twice, just an absent image of that elf would flash through the forefront of his thoughts and would be gone just as fast, but now he had gotten to the point of stewing on the thoughts a bit.
               He enjoyed Loriel’s company. He was witty. And funny. Smart. And Passionate.
               Admittedly, he liked him for more than just company.
               Ulfric liked listening to the elf just talk.
               A lot of people liked to listen to the elf, especially when he sang.
               Elda was having a lot more income on the slow nights and the New Gnisis Cornerclub was bordering on being packed on the nights he came to sing.
               Loriel knew songs from all over Tamriel, songs from the Summerset Isles, and High Rock, and Hammerfell, and Valenwood, and Elsweyr, and Cyrodiil, and Black Marsh, and Morrowind, and Skyrim.
               He knew songs both new and old.
               The Bards College must have suffered greatly with the loss of the bard.
               And frankly Ulfric was glad to have almost horded the presence of the Altmer to Windhelm.
               He hadn’t heard of Loriel staying at any other city aside from just passing through when adventuring or staying a couple nights. And he never ventured far from Stormcloak territory.
               The bard was starting to become widely known among the Stormcloaks too, and with so many guards knowing him by sight, it also meant that Ulfric could get to hear more rumors that came back to him while Loriel was off exploring.
               But he liked the elf more than just his chatter.
               He liked him.
               His presence made a war in his chest yet at the same time he felt peaceful.
               That rush from running under dragonfire and the calm of watching over Windhelm from the view of the nearby mountains.
               All at once.
               It had been just over four months since he first met Loriel back at Helgen.
               And now there were moments where he thought of the elf and almost felt starved.
               He didn’t know how to explain it.
               Loriel’s presence was like a drug.
               A narcotic like sleeping tree sap.
               Addictive.
               But at the same time it helped ease the worst of the pain.
               He wondered where Loriel was now.
               Five days ago he had left the city in his traveling cloak and Ulfric had been so busy with his business with the war, keeping his men alive, and governing a city that he didn’t have a chance to see the Altmer more than once every couple days, often in brief passings.
               The market.
               The docks.
               The Hall.
               But Loriel never visited the palace.
               He never visited Ulfric.
               And he quietly wondered why.
               He put down his quill and watched Galmar speak to Yrsarald calmly against the war table.
               The two of them were arranging the shipments to be sent out to the soldiers.
               And Ulfric wondered if the needs of his soldiers could be met. He was putting a lot of stress on the local farms, but you couldn’t make food grow faster by ordering it to.
               At this rate, he would have to reach out, make some trades to keep his soldiers alive under dragon attacks.
               He hoped that Arson would be able to remedy this dragon problem so he could be able to relax his safety net over his soldiers.
               Tullius was probably wondering why Ulfric hadn’t made a move yet.
               Arson’s request was the reason why.
               And he knew that his soldiers were getting antsy for a fight.
               It would have to wait.
               Dragons posed a bigger problem than the war.
               Winning the war meant nothing if the dragon infestation was not put under control like any pest problem.
               And Arson was the only one who could take care of that problem.
               The war wasn’t his to fight. It wasn’t his circus, it wasn’t his skeevers, it wasn’t his problem.
               His problem could destroy the world though.
               And that problem was everyone’s problem too.
               It was a lot of responsibility to go on one man’s shoulders.
               And he prayed to Talos to protect Arson on his quest.
               By the Gods he needed a drink.
               To get out of the Palace too.
               The stone walls almost felt too confining and he just wanted to breathe.
               And he thought.
               Hadn’t some of the guards mentioned that the Black-Briar Meadery sending up a brand new brew to Candlehearth Hall?
               Black-Briar Reserve is what Maven was calling it.
               Frankly, if it was as good as the rest of her works, Ulfric could go with a taste.
               And Ulfric left the war room and the palace to go sample.
               Maven seemed to be growing quite smug with herself, taking over the Honningbrew Meadery in the last two months after finally convincing Sabjorn to make a partnership with her. The man had been holding out for a better business deal and they had finally come to an agreement on the asking price. With the expansion of the Black-Briar Meadery, there was certain to be better prices on Maven’s regular stock.
               Ulfric could smell the lunch that Nils was preparing as soon as he entered the Hall, and he blinked in surprise when he spotted Elda sitting on a stool behind the bar, her cheeks resting on her fists, dozing a little. She looked tired.
               “Elda?”
               “Hm?”
               Her eyes fluttered open and when she saw him, she bolted upright.
               “Ah! Hello, Jarl Ulfric!” she greeted, startled.
               He restrained a small smile.
               “Good morning, Elda. It’s unusual to see you so tired.”
               “It’s nothing, just feeling a little under the weather.”
               “Perhaps you should take a few days to relax if you are not feeling well. Nils could look after the Hall,” Ulfric suggested.
               “I suppose I could, although I have to admit I trust Lore more than Nils with the numbers,” she admitted.
               “I heard Loriel left a few days ago.”
               “He got back late last night. Said he had a contact in Whiterun who was able to get ahold of some books he wanted.”
               Ulfric blinked in surprise and felt some relief sift into his chest.
               Loriel was back.
               “He’s usually awake by now,” she noted, sounding a bit curious, perhaps to why the elf wasn’t out and about yet, and he watched as she rubbed her eyes.
               “How about I go rouse him and tell him to take over the bar while you go get some rest?” Ulfric suggested.
               “You don’t need to do that, Jarl…”
               He shook his head. “Which room is his?”
               Elda was silent for a long moment before she sighed. “Second on the left.”
               The Jarl gave her a small, comfortable smile before he went down the hall to knock on the door with two light taps.
               “Two seconds, El!”
               So Loriel was awake.
               “Baby, move,” he heard Loriel say softly before the door opened and Ulfric found himself face to face with a man who looked like he had just barely rolled out of bed before the Jarl had come to his door.
               Loriel’s long hair was tousled and wild and stuck up in odd spots from sleep, part of it skewed in front of his wide and wakeful eyes and a couple strands clung to those lips of his, and an oversized miner’s shirt was slipping off one of his shoulders, the dark gold of lightning spell scarring trailing up the exposed skin of his shoulder and throat, an amulet around his neck but he couldn’t see which one. The shirt was so large on the Altmer’s frame that he probably could have worn it by itself as a nightshirt.
               “Did I wake you?”
               “No actually. What can I do for you? Come in, I hope you don’t mind if I finish arranging myself,” he said in absence, motioning Ulfric in and as he turned back around to retreat, Ulfric allowed his eyes to drop lower on the Altmer as he followed.
               Beneath the long edge of that shirt, Ulfric could see deep brown pants that looked like they weren’t made of cloth but rather… leather. Very, very soft leather. His feet were bare on the wooden floor, long toes splayed with every step.
               He took a deep breath, stilling some teasing thoughts that he wanted to entertain, and closed the door after him, giving Loriel some privacy while he finished dressing.
               “Elda is a bit under the weather,” Ulfric started.
               “I told her if she needed me to take over the counter I would,” Loriel interrupted with a sigh, pulling the huge shirt off over his head, the pants just barely hanging onto the bony edges of his hips, the muscles of the Altmer’s back strong and tight like a well strung bow. He could see the shift in his shoulder blades with every movement and the curve of his spine. He was long and lean but not as thin as Ulfric had thought he had been back in Helgen, with a hook shaped scar settled below his ribs and various punctures from arrows dotting his lower back. A thick line of scar tissue followed the top of his shoulder but that was all he saw.
               Or perhaps he just hadn’t been observing as closely as he was now.
               It was all Ulfric could do to tear his eyes away from where the leather met the rest of his skin when he heard the soft mew and watched Loriel lean over at the headboard where an orange kitten was proudly posed, little ears wiggling proudly and tail straight up in the air.
               “When did you get that?”
               “I found him while I was in Whiterun. Poor little guy was hungry and cold. Fed him a bit of my lunch and he wouldn’t stop following me. So, I brought him with,” Loriel answered, giving the kitten a few strokes and kissing it on the head, the kitten purring loudly and squeaked.
               Ulfric didn’t know if he should laugh or not.
               “Does Elda know?”
               “Yes, Jarl of Windhelm, your innkeeper knows I now have a cat. She also knows that I am responsible for any messes this wee babe makes and I will pay her to take care of the beastie if I’m ever out of the city,” Loriel said, turning a bit to look back to him.
               The lightning scar that started at the right side of his incredibly toned abs went all the way up his chest and fine lines trailed along his neck and across his shoulder, a single branch ending at his bicep, and below that sharp collarbone of his, a polished Amulet of Akatosh rested on his sternum. A distance below that, punctures of arrow wounds dotted his abdomen and a line of fine blond hairs dipped down below his navel and disappeared into his barely laced pants.
               Talos help him, the sight of the half-dressed Mer was making him lose his mind…
               Loriel gave him a curious look in silence before he shook his head with a smile.
               “You seem distracted. Something bothering you?” he asked.
               You, Ulfric wanted to say.
               “It’s nothing, it’s been a long day.”
               “It’s lunch time, Ulfric,” the bard said skeptically.
               Alright, Loriel was making it a long day.
               Ulfric casually averted his gaze from Loriel’s and looked to the desk.
               A stack of books sat on the surface, two of them open and there was a roll of paper pinned beside it. It looked like Loriel was trying to translate something, and Ulfric curiously stepped over to the desk.
               He blinked when he recognized the first book. It was Songs of Skyrim. The second book was a book on dragons.
               The page the song book was on was a song Ulfric recognized, for the song was written in the Dragon’s Alphabet in one of the scrolls he had seen back in High Hrothgar as a boy.
               The Dragonborn’s Song.
               “You’re trying to translate this?” Ulfric asked.
               “Yes. The only word I recognize is the word everyone heard from the Throat of the World. Dovahkiin. So I’m assuming that it is in dragon’s tongue.”
               Ulfric scoffed, reading over the words, “Well you’re not wrong.”
               And Ulfric read the song’s Dovah-Zul aloud.
               “Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin,
               Naal ok zin los vahriin,                Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!                Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,                Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!                Huzrah nu, kul do od, wah aan bok lingrah vod,                Ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do fin gein!                Wo lost fron wah ney dov, ahrk fin reyliik do jul,                Voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal Krein!                Ahrk fin zul, rok drey kod, nau tol morokei frod,                Rul lot Taazokaan motaad voth kein!                Sahrot Thu'um, med aan tuz, vey zeim hokoron pah,                Ol fin Dovahkiin komeyt ok rein!                Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,                Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!                Alduin, Feyn do Jun, kruziik vokun staadnau,                Voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!
               Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok,                Fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz!                Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot,                Dovahkiin kos fin saviik do muz!”
                 It had been a long time since he had spoken so much Dovah-Zul all at once. The Greybeards were the only ones more fluent in the language than he was, and there were moments where he had to pause and recall the correct vocal tilt in some words.
               For the song though, he didn’t sing. He knew the words, but there was no tune. He really didn’t have the voice for singing, either. Not like Loriel.
               When he looked back to the bard though, he blinked in surprise.
               The Altmer was staring at him with his jaw slack, completely flabbergasted, the sheer amount of shock and awe that he managed to make appear on the Mer’s face made him feel rather proud.
               “Can you do that again?” Loriel blurted out, his voice pitched with excitement as he came over to the table, still shirtless, the ties of his pants barely done up, and he snatched up his quill and opened his ink well.
               “I couldn’t figure out the pronunciations, this is amazing,” he gushed.
               Ulfric blinked in surprise, a smile on his mouth that he covered with his hand.
               “If you’d like, I can also tell you the translation.”
               “You are a linguist’s dream come true! Yes! Please!”
               Ulfric wetted his lips and leaned over the book while Loriel leaned over the paper. And they began.
               Loriel’s quick, neat scrawl was a bard’s pride, nice enough to maybe go into a published journal released to the public, and he wrote down the phonics of every word in Dovah-Zul with the translation to each line following, looking absolutely ecstatic with every verse. It took some pondering over the proper meaning for some of the lines, but Loriel and Ulfric figured it out.
               “I could kiss you, I really could,” Loriel told him as he finished the last line and Ulfric almost wanted to ask him if that was an offer. But he didn’t. He felt his face flush though as the startling image of himself pressing Loriel back against a wall flashed through his mind for the briefest of moments; mouths pressed together in eagerness, hands in each other’s hair, those hands smelling like ink and parchment, and the elf warm body pressed up against his and-
               And Ulfric had to stop himself.
               He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.
               “You should get dressed and go help your host. I think I have delayed you considerably,” he managed to verbalize.
               Loriel blinked.
               “Shoot, you’re right,” he noted and went back to the bed where he had shirt draped over the edge of the bed, waiting to be pulled on. He tucked the hem into his pants and laced the leathers up before wrapping a wide belt around his waist, making him look well put together. Then, he plopped onto the bed and went to pull on some boots that went up to his knees, the heel on the boot looking a bit thicker than most shoes would have. While he was jerking the laces tight, the orange creature climbed up Loriel’s back and peered over the edge of his shoulder, tail high and proud in the air.
               The Altmer glanced to the kitten and cupped the creature with his hand to give it another kiss on the head.
               “You behave while I’m gone,” he told the cat before picking it up and plopping it back down on the bed, then standing and he came over to the desk again, moving things so the fuzzy creature wouldn’t knock them over and he pinned the paper with a thick leather needle straight to the wall so it could dry without getting chewed on.
               And then he turned to Ulfric, his hair still a mess and he grinned.
               “If you need me for any reason, I am in your debt for this, I truly am,” Loriel told him before opening the door.
               Ulfric ended up leaving in such a hurry he had entirely forgotten the reason he had gone to Candlehearth Hall in the first place until after he was halfway up the steps to his room.
               Damn the mead, what he really wanted a taste of was that elf’s mouth!
               His heart was in his throat as he closed the door behind him and dropped himself onto the edge of his bed, allowing himself to flop back and stare up at the ceiling.
               Damn that elf.
               Damn those gleaming eyes and that wicked smile and that sharp collarbone and…
               Oh for the love of Talos, he was losing his mind.
               And he spent the rest of the day pouring over his paperwork, trying to keep the thought of that bard out of his mind, and he was successful until the moment his head met the pillow and he was back to that small room in Candlehearth Hall.
               In his dreams, he pinned one slim wrist above Loriel’s head to the wall with one hand and the other felt along the muscles of his torso, mouth against mouth. Gods, his skin under his hand almost felt like it was burning him. Loriel’s free hand tangled itself in Ulfric’s hair, eager and needy and he heard Loriel moan against his lips and-
               Ulfric woke up feeling downright euphoric.
               He felt hot and breathless and he didn’t have to look down his body to know that he was standing tall beneath the blankets.
               “Fuck,” he groaned and rubbed his face.
               He needed a cold bath.
               And the Jarl of Eastmarch Hold ended up needing several the next four days.
               The day that the Argonians started cleaning up the Grey Quarter to prepare for the craftsmen to come, the bard spent all afternoon down in the area, singing for them and his voice could be heard all the way to the doors of the Palace of the Kings.
               It was downright maddening for the Jarl, hearing that voice every single time someone came in or out.
               And it was like that every day for the next two weeks as Loriel sang for the craftsmen as they came to take care of the outside of the Grey Quarter and every day when the craftsmen came in to give the Jarl an update on the progress, they commented on the bard who would sit on one of the barrels outside of the Used Goods store and sing.
               The pretty Altmer with the pretty voice.
               Some of them wanted to know if he could be hired out.
               Ulfric told them to take that up with the bard.
               Every night was another dream of that bard and that mouth and those eyes and those hands and by the Gods what he would do to drink him in.
               Every morning was the feeling of euphoria and tented bedsheets and a cold bath.
               He was grateful for his strength of will to avoid the temptation to touch himself, knowing that giving in to the desire would only make it that much harder to not want the elf in his bed.
               There were a few reasons why he didn’t.
               The first and foremost was because there was a war going on.
               He never let himself take up a lover during battles that there was no foreseeable end in sight, it was too easy to get hurt as a result if that lover was captured and tortured. Having a lover during wars was also distracting.
               The second was that he didn’t think he would ever be able to keep him away from the elf after taking him just once.
               Once was a sampling bite of a feast he wanted to gorge himself on. He might have intended for it to only being a one-time thing but he knew he would end up longing for the elf as a lover.
               The third was that the bard was a wanted fugitive.
               If he got too close to Loriel, got emotionally attached, and if the Thalmor came and snatched him up, took him away, tortured him, killed him, Ulfric would feel wounded as a result.
               And the fourth was that he didn’t know if Loriel felt even vaguely close to the same way.
               So over all, Ulfric couldn’t.
               He had to focus on his people and the war he was leading.
               He couldn’t allow himself to think on Loriel for too long.
               It would only lead to trouble.
               The last day that the craftsmen were supposed to be down at the Grey Quarter was also the morning Loriel headed out of the city wearing his traveling cloak again. And when the last craftsmen left, Ulfric decided to go down and see the fruits of their labors.
               Even before he reached the Grey Quarter, although perhaps it could go back to being called the Snow Quarter again, Ulfric could hear the sounds of music and laughter, seeping up from the stoney section of the city. Children were racing about outside with sweets and treats and adults had bottles of Dunmer alcohol broken out just for the occasion. New flags had been posted up and Dunmer lanterns hung lit in front of every doorway.
               Everyone was celebrating.
               The air of joy in the Quarter was well worth the coin Ulfric had put out.
               The place looked a lot better now.
               Ulfric made a note to keep hiring the Argonians to routinely clean the Quarter.
               It would put more coin in the pockets of the Argonians, making them happier, not living in squander would make the Dunmer happier, and making both of those races in Windhelm happier would in turn make Loriel happier as well.
               That wasn’t the original intention but that elf was just making a domino effect all across the city.
               He had seized the heart of the less fortunate, had the admiration from the Nords, and Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak himself was doing his damnedest to not lust after the Mer all because he had seen the man half naked before lunch.
               He supposed he had been longing for him long before that though.
               Like lit tinder, the rest of the wood caught back in that room in Candlehearth Hall.
               Then, he heard that bright voice, loud and the edges of it as curved as his handwriting from drinking.
               “I’m telling you, the stuff you need is vintage brandy. Vintage brandy! Auri-El be blessed, what I’d do to get a taste of that stuff again, it’s got to have been at least thirty-eight years. No, no, not that long. Twenty? Twenty sounds right.”
               “Vintage brandy huh? Sounds expensive.”
               “It is but it is so very worth it. A bottle of that stuff hits like a horse though. Auri-El save you if you drink a bottle on your lonesome and don’t have friends sticking around to make sure you don’t do something stupid. You’d wake up halfway across the Isle missing half your clothes and feeling like you got kicked by a giant too!”
               At the words, the Dunmer laughed and Loriel was laughing with them.
               Ulfric had never heard Loriel laugh like that before, and he liked the sound of it greatly.
               The Jarl looked ahead as a pair of children ran by him, the two looking up at him in awe for a moment before going back to playing, and he watched Loriel as he walked backwards, his face red from drinking and he was chattering with excitement to a pair of Dunmer, occasionally stumbling and the other elves would occasionally reach out to keep him from falling on his ass.
               They were all so preoccupied they didn’t even notice Galmar Stone-Fist’s intoxicated younger brother coming towards them, a bottle of mead in his hand and he looked seething.
               Loriel walked right into him and Rolff gave him a hard shove.
               “Get out of our city, knife-ears. This is Nord land.”
               The two Dunmer caught the Altmer before he fell over and Loriel turned himself to look at him.
               “You’d think you’d learn your lesson after the first few times but no,” he heard Loriel drawl, righting himself.
               “Lore,” one of the Dunmer said, imploring him to not do this.
               “I’ve got this, no worries,” the elf said, waving off his friends.
               “You think you’re so high and mighty, high elf? Go fuck yourself. You aren’t worth piss here in Windhelm.”
               Ulfric wanted to approach.
               “You think you’re better than me? Fight me then. I think we both know who will win.”
               That was all the encouragement Rolff needed to lunge at Loriel and the elf’s stance immediately changed, cocking a fist back and slammed it into the Nord’s jaw, sending him off kilter.
               Ulfric blinked in surprise as he watched the brawl go on, Rolff’s drunken anger making him an easy target for Loriel’s drunken skill and Loriel taunted him, making him make mistakes before he caught the man’s wrist and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and threw him.
               The Nord landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and groaned in pain.
               The effort it took to pull off that move left the bard staggering a bit before steadying himself with a hand against the wall, shaking his head to clear the drunken haze from his mind, and Ulfric watched him smirk, turning back to the pile of drunken Nord.
               Then, Ulfric observed as he slowly wandered over to Rolff and stood right over him, those long legs splayed wide, and leaned over, his hands on his knees.
               It was a fantastic view of the Altmer’s backside in those leather pants of his.
               It was certainly distracting enough that he almost, almost missed what Loriel said.
               “Correct me if I’m wrong, Stone-Fist, but I’d say you’re a bit in love with me. After all, you keep starting all these fights with me and letting me win.”
               “Go suck off a Dunmer,” Rolff spat.
               “Now there’s an idea. Unfortunately though,” Loriel drawled, straightening himself slowly, “None of these fine gentlemen seem to be available. Pity.”
               And he stepped over Rolff and started his way towards Candlehearth Hall, calling back over his shoulder to the Dunmers, “Later, boys!”
               Rolff snarled as he sat up and the Dunmer stood leaning against each other, watching Loriel’s retreat and the Nord made it to his feet before trying to start after the Mer.
               Ulfric stepped around Loriel’s company and caught the Nord by the collar before he could make it too far after the bard.
               He had lost the fight fair and square and taking cheap shots in the aftermath weren’t going to change the fact.
               “I think you need to sober up,” he told the drunk before he made eye contact with one of the guards who was descending the stairs past Loriel. “Escort him to the bloodworks. I’m sure a cell will help sober him up. The city’s in a fine mood tonight, I would hate for it to get ruined.”
               Rolff squawked in protest when the guard took him under the arm and lead him away.
               Ulfric had told Galmar what would happen if he got caught again.
               Rolff had been told too.
               And now it had happened and Ulfric wasn’t going to tolerate it.
               And now with the drunken Nord taken care of, Ulfric went to check on Loriel’s progress in making it back to the Hall.
               He hadn’t made it very far though, just halfway down the stairs to the lower path, and he had paused to lean his forehead against the cold wall, collect himself and keep himself steady before he either fell over or passed out or both.
               “Need a little help?” Ulfric asked and Loriel lifted his head to look back to him.
               And Ulfric drank in the sight of that slow smile that could only ever be described as sultry on those lips, those eyes half-lidded and almost glowing.
               The expression made his breath catch.
               “You, my wonderful friend, are a miracle man,” Loriel said, turning before his foot slipped out from beneath him and he went down hard and fast, his hip colliding with the cold stones and he hissed sharply.
               “Owww fuck…” he moaned as Ulfric came to his side.
               “Think anything’s damaged?”
               “My pride maybe?”
               The quip made Ulfric chuckle and he leaned down to pull one of Loriel’s arms over his shoulders and held onto that wrist, his other hand going about the elf’s torso and he hauled him up.
               Even with the cold around them and the thick shirt the bard wore, Ulfric could feel the muscles beneath his hand radiating heat. Long and lean and toned. His hand slid a little lower down his waist absently, only stopping when he felt the elf’s hand over his.
               Just lightly resting on it.
               The contact left Ulfric feeling like the sensation was being seared into his skin.
               “I take it you like what’s been done to the Snow Quarter,” Ulfric stated as he made Loriel walk, using Loriel’s superior height to his advantage to keep him steady.
               “Snow Quarter?”
               “The proper name of the Grey Quarter.”
               Loriel smiled and laughed, his head thrown back.
               “It’s amazing. I’ve never seen the Dunmer so happy.”
               Ulfric could only think of one other time he had seen Loriel so happy, and it had been back in that little room of his, the two of them side by side over paper and ink and quills and books.
               That happiness was beautiful on the elf.
               “Hopefully this will suffice until after the war.”
               Loriel gave Ulfric’s hand a squeeze and Ulfric glanced at him as they made it up the stairs they opened the door to Candlehearth together.
               The elf greeted Elda brightly and she shook her head at his state, thanking the Jarl for bringing him back because goodness, what would the city think if the bard was found passed out drunk from his one night off that didn’t include adventuring.
               She opened the door for Loriel’s room for Ulfric and when the kitten dashed out underfoot, Elda went after the cat before it could cause any trouble, and Ulfric brought Loriel inside and dropped him onto the bed.
               The sound that Loriel made went through him like lightning, the loud, low, heady moan as his head lolled to the side against his pillow. “Oh by the Divines…”
               He inhaled slow and deep and was promptly asleep.
               Ulfric swallowed down a lump in his throat and was almost startled by Elda when she came back into the room to deposit Loriel’s pet on his chest. The creature stood and looked up at the two Nords and gave a long mew at them before it started kneading the elf’s chest, purring loudly.
               Elda looked to the Jarl and smiled, and he gave a small, odd smile back.
               And they left the room.
               And Ulfric retreated to the Palace of the Kings.
               And dreamed of a feast of gold, and those long, strong, sunlight kissed legs wrapped around a sturdy waist, and the curves of that body beneath large hands, and the sound those lips made with teeth at his throat, and the sensation of sunlight on skin.
               And the euphoria he woke up to in the light of the early dawn was only punctuated as he gave into desire and when higher brain-function started to kick back in in the aftermath, Ulfric promised himself that once the war was over, he’d act on that desire.
               Arson better get his ass moving when it came to those dragons because Ulfric had a war to win.
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