#undercurrent: ros

[undercurrent-if]

Hey author!

What do the ROs look like? What are their physical descriptions?

Hey there! :)

Wren:

She had sunlight-copper hair, thick curls always glinting with saltwater. Her eyes were amber-gold, full of life, always watching the horizon. Lean and wiry, like she's made of motion. Her skin was warm brown, with freckles across her shoulders and nose.

Cassian:

He has olive-toned skin, with light scarring across his forearms and knuckles. His black hair is kept short on the sides with a slight wave on top, damp from the sea. His eyes are steel-grey, soft around the edges. He's broad-shouldered, strong arms, built like a grounded swimmer than a surfer.

Imani:

She has intense dark brown eyes, shimmering with microdust. Her skin is deep mahogany, with gold undertones. She wears her hair in black locs, often pulled into high knots or left flowing down her back. She's tall, sculpted, commanding, yet she's soft.

Kye:

Lean and energetic. Has golden tan skin, often peeling from sun exposure. Has a couple of scars from reckless rides. They have electric blue eyes, with faint glow mods, when they're linked up with their neural link. Their hair is bleached blond(e), often with one side shaved or styled wildly.

Ash:

They have ash-grey hair, short and choppy (female), or flowing down their back (male), always clean cut. They have olive skin, with subtle body mods as in glowing ink and fingertips nodes. They are slim and graceful with one pale grey eye while the other is replaced with a silver cybernetic eye that adjusts to the light.

Thank you! :)

[yokedtablet]

don't hold back

first time posting Abby x reader so be nice! also trying to address the masc shortage (reader has a happy trail and boxers) (reader is slightly Ellie coded so do with that what you will) contents: Abby x masc!reader, college au, weed smoking, fluff, teasing, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), overstimulation, squirting wc: 1.5k

It starts as a lazy evening in her dorm—she’s promised to watch some dumbass movie with you for your film class. It’s in German, and very surrealist, and after half a joint shared between you, you no longer have a clue what it’s about.

And you don’t really mind, because time is slow and languid, and Abby is seated between your legs, absentmindedly massaging your ankle. Your fingers play at the edges of her scalp. 

“Ugh, more of that.” She tips her head back against your shoulder, and when you giggle against her, she adds a grudging “please.”

So you massage her temples, finding the tension there, feeling it slowly release. Your fingers comb through her hair, which falls over her shoulders easily. Even just catching the side angle of her face in the TV glow, you’re struck by just how fucking pretty she is with her hair down. It’s actually a crime that you’d only ever seen her with a braid until your third week of dating. 

You’re not paying attention to the movie anymore, just drifting, when you feel her squeeze your ankle tightly, whole hand wrapped around it, then release. 

“Abs?”

She heaves a big sigh, then begins the awkward process of twisting herself around so she can face you. You could make this easier on her by unwrapping yourself, but you’d rather feel her squeezed tight, shifting against you.

Once she does, she pushes herself up on one arm so she’s hovering over you, her hair tickling your neck. You touch her cheek, brushing over that pale scar—thinking about all the times in class you’d seen that scar and wanted to brush a thumb over it—and wonder how you got so goddamn lucky.

She kisses you, long and deep, the weight of her body sinking into you until it’s almost too much. Almost crushing. You’ve never gotten used to this—how soft her lips are, the warmth of her wandering hands, how breathless she leaves you. 

When she pulls away, she’s got a playful look on her face—something devilish in the undercurrent, and just a little shy. 

“Can I?” Her fingertips dip under your shirt, making you shiver.

“Yeah,” you nod, holding back the fuck yes, finally, please. 

Her hands move over your stomach, feeling the soft fuzz that she adores, then up, over your ribs. You shudder and shut your eyes, hips pressing up against her.

She watches you so carefully, studying the way you move and respond. A little smile curls the corner of her lips. You wouldn’t be surprised if she’s making mental notes to add to the very detailed sex diary she’s shared with you later. 

She loves seeing you squirm like this, noticing the moment her touch turns from something lazy and gentle to something more heated. 

Then her fingers are working at your belt. You’re already whining, and kicking yourself for falling apart so easily. But how can you not when Abby fucking Anderson is the one pulling your belt all the way out from under you so she can yank off your shorts, leaving you in just your boxers?

She settles between your legs, that same playful look on her face. She drags both her hands slowly up one of your thighs, under the fabric of your boxers, reaching the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, but going no further.

You kick your leg a little, trying to get more contact, but she’s got you pretty well leg-locked. And when she actually wants to use all that strength of hers, you’re pretty much fucked.

“Abby, c’mon. Don’t fuck with me,” you plead, trying desperately to sound like you’re not pleading. 

“You don’t want me to fuck with you?” She laughs, low and hearty, hands still moving up your thigh. This time, her fingertips brush heat and wetness—just barely.

It’s enough to make you jerk forward, hips rolling. 

She withdraws her hands, and you think you might actually lose your mind. 

“Abby, what the fuck?”

“I mean, if you don’t want—”

“Yes, I do fucking want, baby. So bad. You’re literally—”

You don’t have time to finish that thought, because Abby’s mouth is on your crotch—wet heat enveloping you. She finds your clit easily through your boxers, toying it with her tongue, and all you can do is buck and whine against the firm pressure of her body.

“Fuck—!” If she keeps this up, you’re going to cum already, without even getting your underwear off. How fucking humiliating. 

Abby knows this—so she tongues at you until you’re teetering over the edge, and then drags her teeth over you instead. 

“Ab—!” You almost leap off the couch. It’s sharp and almost too much, and you can actually feel your clit pulsing between her teeth—but she just holds you like that until your orgasm retreats. 

“I really hate you right now,” you pant through ragged breaths, muscles going slack.

“Let me be nice, then.” She lifts your hips easily, and slides your boxers off under them—in the process, hiking your knees over her shoulders like you weigh nothing. And there she is, breathing against your slick center, eyes never leaving yours.

You startle at the first brush of her thumb through your wetness, savoring a path from your entrance to your clit. She circles it, and you think you could probably cum right there—you jerk your hips—with just a few more—

“Easy,” she whispers, like she’s trying to calm a startled animal. 

Then she slips a finger inside you.

Just one is thick enough to fill you, to make you clench around her helplessly. 

“You’re so fucking wet, babe,” she says with hungry admiration. 

“That’s—” you gasp out, “—your fault.”

And she laughs, a low vibration, as she takes your clit into her mouth. 

You’re right there again. It’s fucking impossible not to be. No more teasing—her tongue flicks over your clit, suctioned between her lips, and her finger strokes you inside just where she knows you need it. Gentle at first, testing, and then harder, unrelenting. 

Your body tenses, thighs already shaking. You climb and climb and then fucking nosedive into the most intense sensations you’ve ever felt. 

She doesn’t stop. You cum and cum and then suddenly you’re on the other side of it, and everything is too bright and hot, and it’s way too much, and you whimper at her to slow down, please, you’ve had enough.

“Mm-mm,” she mumbles against you, which just makes it worse. Your thighs are clamping down on either side of her face when she presses a second finger into you. 

“Fuck, Abs!” You bite down hard on the palm of your hand, needing something, anything, to anchor you against this new onslaught—fingers curling, abusing swollen tissue, taking you apart so easily. 

Abby adjusts her angle, more upright, mouth finally leaving your clit with a wet pop. You think maybe she’ll let up, but this is even worse, because she presses down on your lower belly with her free hand, and her fingers inside you start to thrum like she’s starting a fire. 

“Abby-abby-pleaseIcan’t—” You curl against her, body quaking, a pressure building that’s so vivid it almost hurts. 

“Yes, you can.” The veins of her arm stand out against her skin, and her freckled forehead is slicked with sweat. This is what she trains for—being able to fuck you without ever slowing down. She doesn’t stop until that pressure reaches just below the surface, and your eyes shoot wide. You grip her bicep, half to stop her, half because she absolutely cannot stop right now. 

“Yes,” she says, demands. “Let it go.” And then you’re rushing, spilling warmth into her palm while she keeps going, and you literally couldn’t stop even if you tried—crying and gushing and probably leaving a permanent stain on her couch.

The second orgasm comes moments later, this time a firecracker behind your eyes that makes you blind and dumb for three literal minutes. All you can do is ride through the slowing rhythm of her fingers, clenching and unclenching around them, until she finally slides out. 

Through it all, her touch never leaves you. Her hands soothe over your thighs, your stomach, spreading wetness—and you don’t even care. You could not be less bothered to care. 

When her forearm brushes your clit, you cringe like you’ve been punched, body bracing. Abby just presses a kiss into your ribs, laughing slightly. “Sorry, baby. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

It takes several minutes before you can speak again, longer before you can form a coherent thought. Abby rests against your side, heavy arm draped over you, both of you sticky with sweat and breathing heavily.

“I don’t know what kind of witchcraft you just did to me, but if you ever do that again—”

She’s got your fingertips in her hand, kissing them individually—”you can pay me back for it later.”

You will. And you definitely, definitely, want her to do it again. 

-----

tags: @smellslike-updyke @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @cinnamonstrr @elliemulate @gardengnosticator @arabellyn @lovergirl-co @winestainedwhiskers (reply if you want me to tag you next time!)

[inkwitchgames]

I have a cute ask for today! what would the ro's reaction be to mc being like, "hey, could you hold something for me?" And its just the mc putting their hand in theirs

Just some fluff ✨

Oh I love this one 😭 I'm gonna answer this while eating pizza ^^

What would the ROs reactions be to MC saying "Hey, could you hold something for me?" and putting their hand in theirs?

He doesn't startle at the sudden contact—that in itself says a lot about the depth of trust he has for them. A grin spreads over his features; it's a very Ramón grin, equal parts cheeky and boyish yet void of the undercurrent of suffering that washed out his smiles at the Facility. He bumps their shoulder and makes some joke about how MC's outdoing his charms, in noticably higher spirits than just seconds before as he animatedly banters and teases MC all the way along to wherever they're walking. The memory of that little moment is what lulls him to sleep that night. He hopes they'll keep finding reasons to touch him.

At first Ry looks down at their hands, still in the mindset that MC is trying to pass him something. A frown knots his brow when nothing happens, and a dawning realization comes over him that has his head snapping back up to stare straight ahead. He regrets not wearing his cybernetic jaw attachment today, because it'd do a reasonable job hiding the slight rouge dusting on his cheeks. Ry isn't THAT easy to fluster, but there's something about such a mundane gesture of sweetness in all the shit they're dealing with that he did NOT anticipate. "Behave." He tries for chiding, but the hand-squeeze he gives them undermines it.

Dom snorts out a half-laugh/half-scoff. It'll be loud, probably louder than he intended. He often does things that catch him by surprise around them. "Cute. But you're not as slick as you think you are," he'll say, but he doesn't let go of their hand. If they try to pull away, he'll quickly tighten his grip and pull them in, pressing his lips to their temple/cheek, reluctantly endeared. Usually he'd follow up with a suggestive comment, something about letting the MC hold something of his tonight...but instead he just shakes his head and throws an arm around MC's shoulders/waist, walking on. He doesn't need to fuck it up every time.

Emery tries to pull away, groaning at the cheesy pickup line she played into perfectly. She's not used to this crap, this wacko sense of humor. Not when it's done to make her laugh. It's like she's burning up which usually makes her want to get the fuck out of a place, so why is she hoping MC will continue to laugh and cling to her hand, prolonging the moment of lightheartedness? "You're so dumb," she mutters, giving up her valiant attempts to escape and resting her forehead against MC's chest/shoulder. "I fucking hate you." Her voice is muffled now. "Dumbass."

Zoia leans back a little to look at MC's face, eyebrows raised with...well, a bunch of emotions flit by, some more heated than others, but the one it lands on is a playful kind of pride. "Hell, even I couldn't've pulled that off any better," she says seriously, lips quirking at the side before she lets out the laugh. She drops their hand to cup their cheeks instead. "Come on, spill. Which of Aura's NeuReels did you steal that little move from?" she teases. God, she missed this. She's spent so much time around serious assholes lately—she really needs to stop spending so much time around Dom at the Raveyard—that she almost forgot that jolt that feels like an adrenaline high. Who'd've thunk?—you don't need bullets flying at your head to have the time of your life!

Holy moly, that was smooth. Aura practically vibrates with happiness even as her jaw falls open in exaggerated surprise. "What was THAT?!" she giggles, batting them on the arm. They did THE MOVE! Aura remembers being just a kid, setting up a blanket and some snacks in a cubbyhole back in the Dead Drop and watching the old romance reels with wide-eyed wonder, wondering if she'd ever find anyone who'd want to touch the freak in the same way. And now...She gives them a peck on the cheek and starts tugging them along. "You're so watching more of those reels with me. I had no idea you were so impressionable—oh, the possibilities!"

[lightweaver-chosen-if]

You know how there's fight, flight, freeze, and fawn? Well imagine an MC who's coping mechanism is to fawn (i.e. people please) out of trauma. ROs responses upon realizing this? Maybe MC's terrified of confrontations and so when they sense one coming up they try to fawn over the ROs :0

I ended up writing mini scenes for this one. I couldn't help it, this was such an interesting ask . . . I hope you like them aa

J "Why do you do that?" J asks suddenly, their brow furrowing slightly. You blink, caught off guard by their unexpected question. "Do what?" "Always agree with everything I say," J clarifies, their gaze unwavering. "Is it because you're too nervous to disagree with me? Or you just don't care enough to argue?" The bluntness of their words makes you flinch slightly, fixing your gaze on the ground beneath your feet. You open your mouth to reply, then close it again as you search for the right words. "I don't know," you finally answer honestly. "It just seems easier than arguing, I guess." J gives you a skeptical look. "So you'd rather go along just to avoid conflict?" You nod reluctantly, glancing back at them. You're surprised to see a flash of concern in their eyes. "Isn't that better than fighting all the time?" you ask quietly. J hesitates, studying your face for a long moment before replying. "Not if it means you're living a lie," they say, their tone gentler now. You bite your lip, considering their words. You know they're right; you've been compromising yourself just to keep the peace for so long it's become second nature. But at the same time, you don't know how else to act—it's all you've ever known.

A "Are you always this… enthusiastic?" A asks, resting their chin atop their hand as they peer at you curiously. "You know you don't have to do that, right? Nod and smile when I say things." You feel yourself tense, your reaction nothing short of instinctive. "Sorry," you reply hastily, mind scrambling for what to say next. You open your mouth once, twice, then close it again. Finally, you force out an explanation, albeit feeble. "I just want to seem… likable." The words feel wrong the moment they leave your lips—not because they're untrue, but rather that you hate how vulnerable they make you sound. They aren't meant to be heard by someone else. But if A notices, they don't show it. They merely shrug, turning away from you to gaze thoughtfully at a cluster of birds flying through the courtyard. "I think I liked you better when you were all broody and quiet." There's no bite behind the statement. In fact, it almost sounds fond. You must have imagined it.

L L furrows their brows together slightly as they consider you for a moment. "You're doing it again." "What?" you say, suddenly self-conscious. "Saying yes to everything I say. Like you're trying to make me happy," L says softly, a look of concern passing over their face. "Do I make you feel like you have to do that?" "No! No, that's not it," you quickly reply, trying not to sound too defensive. "I just..." L watches you, waiting patiently for your answer. You scramble for words, but all you manage are some half-formed syllables before trailing off. Finally, you give up and sigh, staring down at the ground. "I don't know. I just don't want to bother people. That's all." When you finally gather the courage to glance at them, L's frowning in thought, their eyebrows pinched together in what appears to be contemplation. "Who said that? That you'd bother someone?" You shake your head frantically, struggling to find an explanation. "No, it's—I mean..." "Okay, fine. But you don't bother me. If they bother you, then I'll bother them back. And then they can bother both of us until everyone's bothered equally." L's tone is teasing, but there's an undercurrent of seriousness in their voice that leaves no room for argument. "Alright?" It takes you a few moments to register the meaning of their words, and eventually, your lips pull into a faint smile; the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. "Alright." "I guess we should probably start bothering each other soon, then," you concede, finally meeting their gaze. L beams at that, the corner of their eyes crinkling.

[lacunafiction]

Happy Birthday S. Dorran!

In honor of our compassionate Scholar’s birthday today, I collected some insights about them along with teasers from TFS: Book Two. 💙

_ _ _

Question/Prompt: How would S react to the MC being sick while in a relationship?

S handles this pretty well, modulating their worry about you being sick by performing actions that should hopefully make you feel better. They don't hover as much as the other ROs, but they're always within reach and become a consistent presence in the room. S will likely have a cup of tea ready for you before you can ask or will layer another blanket on you before you realize you're chilled. 🥰��� Observing and anticipating your needs is how they try to show their care for you.

_ _ _

🌲 TFS: Book Two Teaser 🌲:

Silas 

The quiet is comfortable with an undercurrent of something more just beneath the surface. It can be hard to tell with Silas. When he peers up from nimbly sliding on another ring, there is nothing 'pensive' or 'reflective' to how he's regarding you—taking time to exist with you—in this moment. He isn't lost in thought, but in you.

Sofia 

The quiet is comfortable with an undercurrent of something more just beneath the surface. It can be hard to tell with Sofia. When she peers up from nimbly sliding on another ring, there is nothing 'pensive' or 'reflective' to how she's regarding you—taking time to exist with you—in this moment. She isn't lost in thought, but in you.

_ _ _

To continue reading this public post on TFS Patreon 🌲along with more Book Two teasers, please go: here. I hope you enjoy these moments with S. Dorran! Thank you for your support. 😍

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

Feveruary Day 1

Here's some Colin and Julie, because they are one of my platonic soulmate pairs :)

------

Walking out of the pool facility, Julie’s surprised to see Colin’s shock of red hair, since he’d left a good while before she did. But nonetheless, there’s Colin, leaning against the grey stones of the building.

Something about it doesn’t sit right with Julie, and she starts to walk towards him, when she notices a puddle of vomit in the grass.

She frowns, stepping around it to reach Colin, just as he turns around and leans his arm above his head on the wall. He leans forward, and opens his mouth, letting out a sick-sounding burp.

“Hey, hon,” she says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in surprise, but still sends her a half-smile.

“Hey… gorgeous,” he answers through another burp.

“I take it that was you?” she gestures towards the puddle a few feet away, and Colin nods minutely, fighting against another wave.

Julie moves her head down to his back, rubbing softly, and ushering up a soft belch.

She glances around, relieved to find that they’re out of view of the pool windows, before focusing back on Colin as he lurches forward with a small heave.

It doesn’t take much more for him to be overcome with a heave, a rush of puke spilling from his mouth and landing in the grass between his feet.

Julie keeps rubbing his back softly, until he’s done vomiting, and he takes a deep breath, and spits, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.

When he stumbles a few steps to the side and slumps down against the wall, Julie follows, finally getting a good look at him. She tuts softly, her hand now checking his forehead for a fever.

“Aw, dude, you’re burning up,” she says, frowning at him.

“Yep.”

“How’d you end up like… this?” she asks, gesturing to him, and then the puddles.

 “Did I tell you a kid pulled on me the other day?”

“No, no you did not,” she groans, seeing where this is heading.

“Oh. Well, I was teaching, and this kid turned around and barfed all down my-” he turns his head to the side, biting back a gag, and blowing out a breath, before turning back to her, “all down my chest. Guess it finally caught up to me,” he finishes with a small chuckle.

She winces in sympathy, and pats his arm gently before standing.

“I’m gonna go get a bag or something from the office, and then I’ll drive you home.”

Colin nods in agreement, before tilting his head up against the wall and closing his eyes.

When Julie returns a few minutes later, bag in hand, she finds him in the same position. She gently nudges him, snapping him out of his stupor, before hauling him to his feet.

She slings his backpack onto her shoulder, and links her other arm with him, leading him towards the parking lot.

As soon as they’re settled, Colin with the plastic bag on his lap, he tells his car to “Call Ro”.

After a couple rings, Rowyn answers with a “Hey, what’s up?”

“What, no time for a “Hi babe”?” Colin asks, leaning back in his seat, and closing his eyes again, this time to avoid the movement outside the window.

“Actually, no,” answers Rowyn, voice verging on frustration, “We’re swamped. You’re lucky I even answered.”

“Ro…” says Colin softly, trying to fight off the rising nausea.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of. I caught a stomach flu. Julie’s driving me home.”

“On her bike?!” Rowyn frantically inquires, and Colin hurriedly corrects, “No! My car, she just-” he cuts himself off with a harsh burp.

“Okay, that’s good then. I’ll see you when I-” if Colin wasn’t preoccupied with his sour stomach, he would have noticed the undercurrent of a strange tone in Rowyn’s voice, but as it sits, he’s none the wiser.

He tries to follow the conversation, sure that Rowyn is still talking, and probably Julie too, but his stomach demands all his attention, as another burp rushes past his lips, followed closely by a gag.

He rushes to lean over the bag in time for a heave to force out a wave of puke that splatters into the bag.

“-pulling over,” he hears Julie say, and he gasps out, “No, just get home,” before another gag sneaks up on him.

[harlequinoccult]

okay so, I love the ask about how the ros would react to accidentally killing the Mc thanks for that other anon but what about this? Slsq Ro and deepromance!MC living there best murdery life only for one day to the both of them find out the MC has some incurable terminal illness, how do they react? Poorly, I imagine

now, there's two here that would react interestingly, but, as for the others

Cold would rather have mc die now than waste away.

The Host will do everything in their power to stop it, or at least prolong mcs time

Sweetheart will take care of mc. and keep taking care of mc. even when mc has already died. he will take care of you. he will keep you.

Overdose will want mc to go out with a bang, and if mc wants them to follow? well....

-----------

Now, here's the interesting part. Elysium and Black Dahlia. they both have very skewed views on illness. for very different reasons. there's hurt there, yes,

in Ely's case, there's a sense of frustration, over compensation when it comes to your comfort. he's trying very very hard to make you forget that you're sick. you might start feeling like a caged bird in a gilded cage. there's a sense of....paranoia. Mc's death was accepted, but something else is wrong here.

and in Dahlia's case.....there's an odd....reverence. its hushed. its whispered. its an undercurrent of it in the day to day, its subtle, but that doesn't make it any less odd coming from her. it feels like shes already laid a burial shroud upon mc.

[midnightsun-if]

A continuation to the ask about the ROs being asked if MC was seeing anybody: what would happen if they saw the person who asked that question pestering MC while MC's whole body language screamed 'I'm uncomfortable!' but they were trying to be nice about it?

Continuation of this ask.

Koda: He stops next to you, a small frown furrowing his brow as he glances between you and the person. "Hi, MC." A bright grin is sent your way, but it quickly falls away when he shifts his attention. "I thought you wanted me to ask him later? Don't you think now is a bad time?" Koda glances down at his watch, worry welling within his stomach. "We're going to be late for our movie marathon." Gently taking you by the arm, he tugs you closer to his side, whiskey brown eyes never straying too far from the other person. "Why don't we head back to the dorm now? It's Gina's turn to cook tonight and I can't wait to eat up." He looks down at you then, his warm countenance returning in spades immediately. "That's something that'll be fun before it, I think. Some good food and good company to match."

Scarlett: Viridescent eyes narrow into slits, features devoid of emotion twisting into the epitome of anger-- a vicious, burning entity that's scorching in intensity-- at the sight that greets her at the other end of the hall. She doesn't think, doesn't give credence to the thoughts running through her head, all she felt in that moment, all that she knew to be true, is that she needed to get to you. With long strides, Scarlett closes the distance quickly, heels clicking menacingly against the waxed floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" A hand grips onto their bicep, more impervious than steel, as she twists the person towards her. "When I told you to go ask her, I didn't mean make a nuisance of yourself and force your cretinous presence somewhere it doesn't belong." Scarlett leans closer, sharp fangs glinting underneath the torchlight when she growls. "You've just made a mistake. The likes of which you'll never recover from. I'll make sure of it."

Cyrus/Cyra: "This isn't what I meant by getting your answer faster." Their words, much like the expression etched across their face, is filled with anger-- a raging inferno roaring within their chest at the sight before them. They step closer, settling by your side, with their arms crossed over their chest; presenting every bit as the Heir to House Aurelia in that moment. "I'd leave if I were you, it's clear that your presence is no longer required or welcomed." Gentle gold eyes, that still have a lethal undercurrent of red, turn to glance at you, a soft smile quirking their lips. "Though, I believe, I must thank you in a way. You gave me a question that I didn't even know needed to be asked and, because of it, I have come to answer that's quite satisfactory." They turn back to the person, their earlier fire returning. "But, make no mistake, that your help, however slight, makes me any less forgetful of what you just tried to do."

Quinn: Can I eat them now? Their wolf, while unwelcome in the moment, reflected the exact feelings currently welling within their chest. A festering rage causing their eyes to flash sporadically, but they maintain control as they easily find their way to your side-- one of their favorite places to be. "Forcing your company on someone that doesn't wish for it isn't exactly charming," Quinn mutters, arms crossed over their chest. Sapphire blue filled with nothing but barely concealed hostility. "In fact, I think it's something that'd warrant a visit from my furry friend." They take a small step forward, voice lowering to a menacing growl. "So, I'd leave if I were you. If you care at all for your health."

Caden: An icy chill instantly fills the hallway, silver eyes flashing brilliantly-- wisps of chilling white intercepted within them. They're not aware when they stop by your side, but they're more than aware of the growing fire within their chest; a rage the likes they haven't felt in a long time. "You need to leave." They take a step closer, voice hauntingly devoid of any emotion. At the hesitation, another gust of icy air rushes through the area. "That wasn't a suggestion." Caden inclines their head towards the exit. "Now."

Sloane: Without thinking about the consequences, without putting any thought into the action really, their fist collides with the person's cheek-- satisfied immensely by the crack that fills the air because of it. "Why don't you fuck around with someone who actually wants it, asshole?" Teeth bared, wolf broiling at the surface, Sloane takes a step closer, fighting against the urge to tear them apart. "Next time I see you even in the same radius as MC, I'll make you sure you wished that you never stepped foot in Aurelian, understood?" At the frantic nodding of their head, Sloane jerks their own towards the exit. "Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Blake: An easy smile slips from their lips at the sight, violet eyes darkening to a shade few have ever seen before. Without putting much stock into the action, Blake easily sidles up to you, throwing a loose arm around your shoulders. "MC," they crow, tugging you closer into their side. "Just the vampire I was looking for, I was wondering if you'd help me with an assignment?" At the scoff from the other person, Blake allows a cheshire grin to overtake them, not a hint of mirth in their gaze. "Oh, I wasn't aware you had company. Would you like me to leave you be?" They shift their focus towards you, deadly serious. "I'd be more than happy to handle it, of course. Handling unwanted things is an amusing pastime of mine."

Reginald/Regina: "It seems you also have to work on boundaries too," they comment, easily settling by your side. Ignoring the glare that's sent their way because of it, a gentle smile comes to their lips as they nudge you. "I'm making dinner tonight, wanna help me out?" Blue green eyes flash merrily, but anyone would be able to see the sharpness hiding just underneath the surface-- a clear signal to the one it's directed towards that they wouldn't leave regardless. "You've always been a big help to me, I could definitely use that now. What do you say?"

[haydenigmatic]

Can we have the first impressions the ROs had of both or either F!MC and M!MC.

I can’t quite scope the level of “perfect” high level attractiveness MC will hold so if possible pls mention our isekai looks 😏

well first impressions are somewhat tricky, I mean it's up to you guys how that goes... and what it is known of MC.

For the Lavone siblings depends on how you behave towards them, an example here with Odette, she can "hate" you whilst crushing on you since the beginning (hate as in you are kids, and mc and she can be the couple of bickering kids that you just know that when they grow up will be a thing) so for this one I'll go with their first impressions on a older MC.

so let's focus on the ethereal beauty of MC.

Odette:

A rush of memories and emotions floods her senses. MC presence, now heightened by the regality of adulthood, leaves her momentarily breathless. Her exterior remains composed, a portrait of courtly grace, yet beneath the surface, a torrent of nerves swirls. The childhood crush, ever-present, now evolves into an enchantment that transcends time. Their beauty, renowned throughout the realm, casts a radiant spell on her, and Odette, ever the idealist, finds herself caught in the delicate dance between longing and the anticipation of what rekindled connection might unveil.

Damon:

For a Female MC: Damon's eyes widen subtly, catching the adult version of MC for the first time. The once-familiar features have transformed into an undeniable beauty that momentarily leaves him speechless. He can't help but appreciate her allure, and a smug grin creeps onto his face, impressed and intrigued by the unexpected transformation.

For a Male MC: Damon's confident facade wavers imperceptibly as he meets the adult version of MC. The realization strikes that this isn't the same companion from his youth; there's a newfound charisma and handsomeness that subtly challenges Damon's own confidence. Despite his usual bravado, he can't help but acknowledge the striking presence of a now-adult MC.

Hanniel:

For a Female MC: As he laid eyes on a grown-up MC, a stunned realization dawned upon him. The girl he once knew had transformed into a woman of captivating beauty. Struggling to reconcile the image of the woman before him with the memory of the girl from his past, he found himself mesmerized by her allure. The profound shift in his perception left him grappling with newfound feelings, a mix of surprise, attraction, and an undercurrent of unexplored emotions.

For a Male MC: Upon laying eyes on the grown-up version of MC, he is momentarily struck by the impressive handsomeness of the man before him. A subtle recognition plays on his features, appreciating the transformation from the boy he once knew. The memories between them echo, but he can't help but acknowledge the striking presence of the man standing in front of him.

Verena:

A a fleeting intrigue sparked within her smoky gaze. MC's beauty, like a captivating enigma, momentarily caught her attention. A subtle smirk played on her lips—an acknowledgment of allure, but also a silent declaration of her own rules. Though she didn't typically involve herself with those of the same age, a mischievous thought crossed her mind—a temptation to toy with the enigmatic character, to unravel the secrets hidden behind those captivating eyes.

Jasira:

For the female MC: She recognizes her beauty but remains sceptical, suspecting her to be just another courtly figure in pursuit of a suitable marriage. Her initial impression is guarded, wary of the intricacies of courtly relationships.

For a male MC: she acknowledges the handsomeness but can't shake the impression of vanity and an almost ethereal beauty that might be more suited to the courtly aesthetics than the harsh realities Jasira has come to know.

Nesrin:

Upon their first meeting, Nesrin, with her perceptive and calculating nature, keenly observes:

A female MC: While acknowledging her beauty, she also sees her as a potential rival for court attention, noting the allure that could captivate others.

For the male MC, she appreciates his handsomeness but maintains a sceptical view, suspecting he might be nothing more than a pretty face lacking substance underneath.

Doria/n:

Doria/n takes a glance at MC and can't help but acknowledge their looks. Yet, in his eyes, they're just another one of those silly nobles at court, wrapped up in the same shallow pursuits.

Aurelia/n:

Despite her/his reserved nature, Aurelia/n finds themselves captivated by the unique beauty that radiates from MC, a beauty that transcends mere physicality. There's a certain magnetic quality to MC's presence that hints at depths yet unexplored, leaving her/him intrigued and eager to unravel the layers beneath the surface.

Sorin:

As her eyes capture the beauty that initially strikes her, she's quick to shift her focus to the more captivating question — the essence of who MC is and the mystery that surrounds them. The allure of their appearance is acknowledged but swiftly overshadowed by Sorin's curiosity about the person beneath the surface, yearning to unravel the enigma that for her is MC.

[undercurrent-if]

How would the ROs react if mc showed up with a pet that surfed with them?

Presumably this is post-romanced ROs

Hey there! :)

Wren:

She lights up the moment you walk onto the beach with the pet, as if this is possibly the best gift you've ever given her. She immediately drops her board and rushes over. "No way!" she exclaims, scooping the pet from your arms into hers.

She's grinning so wide it hurts to look at her. "You're telling me I get you and a sidekick? Today really is my birthday."

Wren would immediately insist the pet needs their own custom gear and a small tiny matching board. She's full of excitement and plans before you're even in the water.

Ash:

Ash smiles the moment they spot you, and it only widens when they see the pet in your hands. "You never stop surprising me," they say, voice warm. They reach a hand out to towards the pet.

"Looks like we'll need to make some room on the board for this little guy," they joke softly, already pulling your gear out of the makeshift shed next to you. All this pet is is an extension of you, and because of that, they'll be protective of it.

Kye:

Kye crosses their arms and raises an eyebrow, their mouth twitching at the corners like they're trying not to laugh. "You gonna teach it tricks too, or just how to wipe out with style?" They quip.

But there's no real bite in their voice—just a rough sort of fondness that they're terrible at hiding. When you set the pet down on the sand, Kye leans down, offering a hand with a gentleness you didn't know they had.

"Guess if you're keeping it around... it’s gotta be tough."

They nudge your shoulder. "Just like you."

Imani:

She blinks at first, taking a second to process the sight before her before a soft smile curls her lips. "Trust you to make even surfing a family event," she says warmly.

Letting the pet come to her on its own, she would kneel patiently, her smile never leaving her lips. "You're sweet, Surfer," she says without looking up. "This is where you and this little guy belong."

Cassian:

Cass is completely off guard when he sees you approach with a pet. He gives you a tight-lipped smile, meeting you halfway.

"I thought you were kidding when you said you were going to bring your pet?" He questions, his eyes briefly glancing down before going back to yours. Depending on your response, he sighs.

"I suppose it's not the worst idea... better company than some people," he teases, deadpan and low. You both start moving to gather your gear, Cass right beside you when he mutters, "Especially if it's yours."

Thank you so much!

[vandijkwrites]

Of Art & Augury: An Interactive Fiction WIP

Genre: Historical Fantasy Format: Text-based interactive fiction Tags: Text-based, historical fiction, romance, fantasy/magic, art and artists, late 19th century Paris Current Status: Drafting (NaNoWriMo 2023 Project)

Synopsis

As a writer for one of the top Parisian society gazettes, you've advised many readers about the up-and-coming artists of the Paris Salon. The best painters there know how to weave subtle enchantments into the likeness of their subject to make the image come to life but, recently, something had been going wrong with the magic. It's up to you to head to the academy and figure out to truth for yourself.

Setting

Set in Paris at the end of the 19th century, you will explore the city and the art exhibitions of the academy. This version of Paris has an undercurrent of magical power which artists use to create enchanted artwork for society.

ROs

Odette [F]

Occupation: Commercial Lithographer Artistic Inspiration: Alphonse Mucha Odette is an Austrian artist who moved to Paris to start her career as an artist. She has little formal training and started her career by taking any artistic work she could get her hands on. Now she does mostly lithography for product advertisements and theater posters.

Sainte [M]

Occupation: Journalist Artistic Inspiration: Édouard Manet Sainte was born in Paris and studied under a successful portrait artist from a young age, but left his studies to pursue journalism for reasons he doesn't like to talk about. Now, he works as an art critic for a Parisian newspaper, covering the Salon and other exhibitions.

Armand [M]

Occupation: Portrait Artist Artistic Inspiration: John Singer Sargent Armand has been passionate about art for most of his life and moved to Paris from New Orleans to start his studies when he was still young. He has been studying portraiture ever since and has already painted portraits for some very influential young socialites.

Helene [F]

Occupation: Socialite Artistic Inspiration: Berthe Morisot Helene is a Parisian socialite who fell in love with painting during her private art education growing up. Although her family encouraged her to keep painting, they refused to let her receive any education in enchantment, a requirement for being taken seriously in artistic society. Ever since, she has been trying to teach herself magic in secret.

[moondal514]

Reading Recap February 2025

Some more rereads but also I’m making my way through my tbr list, which is nice. I actually got some new releases in here! So I can say officially say I’m being current not just reading older stuff 😂

The Stone Sky, N. K. Jemisin

The finale! God this whole trilogy is fantastic. And heartbreaking. I really appreciate the whole message about empire and societies built on the suffering of others never being able to last and the way the whole series has this undercurrent of hope running through it even as it is bleak. I will admit, I was a bit underwhelmed by this book compared to the other two books in the series, partly, I think, because I saw the ending coming. But I still really enjoyed this book and I think this whole series has been cemented as some of my favorite books of all time

FLARE Magazine, Issue 1

A very new lit journal that centers around stories from writers that are disabled and/or chronically ill. While I very much support the mission of this magazine, I was unfortunately dissatisfied with the quality of the writing for most of the pieces here. However, I’m giving it the benefit of the doubt since it’s this magazine’s inaugural issue, and I hope the quality of stories submitted will be improved as time goes on. Essentially the only pieces from this issue I did like are “Y’all Say Eugenicist as If Eugenics Is Inherently Bad lol” by Audrey T. Carroll, “Iterations” by Brady Alexander, “Art of Noise” by Ilari Pass, and “MDD” by Leisly Ann

Bicoastal Review 7

Poetry-centric journal. Overall I found the quality of the works here quite good. I appreciated that each work on the journal’s website included a recording of someone reading them out loud, but unfortunately sometimes the recording icons covered up parts of the poems themselves and ironically made it harder to read the poems. The standouts for me include “Fable of New Weather” by Adam Houle, “Picking Up Cicada Carcasses in Texas” by Leia Bradley, “The City” by Nancy Burke, and “The Art of Drawing Boats” by Hayley Phillips

17776: What Football Will Look Like in the Future, Jon Bois

I’m like eight years late to the party on this one but wow I loved it. What an innovative reading experience. I don’t think anything I saw about this story on social media could’ve prepared me for what I read, but I really had a good time with it. What a wonderful love letter to the cultural staying power of sports and humanity’s capacity for care

Remnants of Filth: Vol. 6, Rou Bao Bu Chi Ro trans. Yu and Rui

This volume contains both my second favorite part of this novel and the beginning of my least favorite parts of this novel, so I’ve come out of it with mixed feelings. On one hand, I really do love the whole sad backstory about the Chu family and all the drama and fucked up reveals in the Huntian Cave part (also known as Yue Chenqing’s Xue Meng moment, poor kid). On the other hand, everything that happens after that is the point at which this novel starts to get too ridiculous for me lol. However, Mo Xi spends at least a quarter of this volume crying, so I had lots of fun

Summer Sons, Lee Mandelo

I read this one because it’s an entry into the “a book with a traumatized fucked up gay character named Andrew mainly taking place at a college in a southern US state” genre. I kind of had issues getting into it for about the first 100 pages or so, but Andrew’s whole deal fascinated me so much that I pushed through and in the end I had a good time. Which is to say, the second half of the book appealed much more to me than the first half lol. Overall, it was decent and definitely worth the read. I liked it

Joshi BL

Anthology of BL manga one-shots told from the point of view of female side characters. While none of the stories in this collection jived with me, I really liked the concept of this anthology a lot. It’s nice to see a sympathetic and nuanced view of characters that would usually be hated or villainized in the types of stories that they appear in and the archetypes they inhabit

Catching Chén Qíng Lìng: The Untamed and Adaptation, Production, and Reception in Transcultural Contexts, ed. Cathy Yue Wang and Maria K. Alberto

Still haven’t watched more than three episodes of CQL and I don’t plan on watching more. But since I do run around in the MDZS fandom, I was supremely curious to read some academic fandom analysis anyways. Overall this collection was very enlightening and informed me of a lot of context about the history of this fandom and danmei fandom culture in general I didn’t actually know. The essays I liked the most were “A Full Account: Queer Structures and Narrative Democratization in Mo Dao Zu Shi” by Andrea Acosta and Lillian Lu, “Iterative Violence: English (mis?)Translations of Mo Dao Zu Shi and Chén Qíng Lìng” by Chang Y. Ng, “Allegations of Chinoiserie: Guo(o)feng, Authenticity, and (Self-)Orientalization in Chén Qíng Lìng and Its Companion Album” by 墨客 hunxi, and “MDZS in Diaspora: Negotiating Chinese Americanness through Modern AU Fanfiction” by Haley Wu and Jiaqi Kang

Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir

Discord book club reread! It’s so fun how differently this book reads when you revisit it compared to going into it knowing nothing. It’s like a totally different story when you actually have context for some of the shit Gideon doesn’t know about or is full on ignoring. Canaan House in particular is a completely different place, with the remnants of Jod’s crew pre-lyctorhood completely haunting the place in ways the reader can’t appreciate until reread

The Summer Palace and Other Stories, C.S. Pacat

I had a random revival in my interest in the Captive Prince fandom in the middle of the month and it reminded me that I had forgotten to read this short story collection. I very much enjoyed all of these stories, but the highlight was definitely “Pet,” the Ancel-centric story. I had previously wondered why exactly the fandom found Ancel/Berenger so compelling and what made them interesting characters and, well, now I have my answer. I also very much enjoyed seeing some of the events of book 1 from Ancel’s pov because the added context definitely adds a lot

The Sunshine Court, Nora Sakavic

Reread done in anticipation of The Golden Raven. It’s been said before that this book reads like a JereJean fanfiction, and lowkey I agree, but that’s not to say that I still don’t enjoy it. Though I’m not as taken with this book as I am with the original All For the Game trilogy, I’m still very invested in Jean and what will happen to him. Honestly my biggest struggle with this book is that the setting is my childhood stomping grounds, and so knowing the setting so well really messes with my suspension of disbelief (how I wish Nora had the foresight to place Jeremy and the Trojans in a random made up college in California instead of the very real USC)

The Golden Raven, Nora Sakavic

Still reads like a JereJean fanfiction, even more so perhaps, but once again that isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy it. I loved the Trojans, I loved the cameos from the Foxes, I loved the games, I loved the fucked up Raven shit, I loved the Jean whump, I loved seeing Jeremy’s messed up family dynamics and bad coping mechanisms, and I loved the JereJean tension. But I have to say, I think this is my least favorite of Sakavic’s books so far. I had so many issues with the pacing and there were so many little plot threads introduced all at once that got dropped or forgotten (hopefully to be resolved in the next book?). I also found the handling of some of Jean’s issues to be kind of poorly done, but well at this point I’m used to that sort of thing in this series 😂. I think the fact that it was all originally meant to be one book shows a lot here. But I reserve my overall judgment until Jean’s story is complete, and there are so many scenes from this book I’m going to be rotating in my brain for a while

Rejected Lit, Issue 9

Continuing to try to get myself into poetry more seriously through trial by fire. I will be the first to admit that I’m not a very good connoisseur of poetry as its own genre, but I’m trying. The overall quality of writing in this magazine is very good, though some of the poems fall very much on the side of “…I don’t get it” lmao. The standouts for me include “Jennifer’s Body” by Ruby Ferris, “Pale Green Speck” by Oswaldo Vargas, “The Migration” by Talor North, and “Warfare” by Hanaa Ibrahim

The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories, Ken Liu

I held off on reading this collection for a long time for two reasons: 1) I hated The Grace of Kings and 2) this was a rec from my little brother, whose book recommendations for me are usually very hit or miss (case in point, Grace of Kings was also a rec from him lmao). Luckily this one was, for the most part, a hit. Not all of the stories were created equally and I definitely liked some more than others. Some of the stories were so incredibly corny I was rolling my eyes as I struggled to read them, and some of the stories induced such a strong emotional reaction in me that I almost cried. But overall I enjoyed this collection and found it to be a good read. My favorites included “The Bookmaking Habits of Select Species,” “Simulacrum,” “The Waves,” and “The Man Who Ended History: A Documentary”

[zogdon]

Will Saudi Arabia and BRICS unlock each other’s full potential?

Will Saudi Arabia and BRICS unlock each other’s full potential? https://www.rt.com/news/610230-saudi-arabia-brics-potential/

Saudi Arabia is now the battlefield, onto which The BRICS nations confront the Washington led west.

Gaining Saudi Arabia as a close ally, is important to both camps...but much more crucial for the west, if it loses control over the Saudis.

BRICS can build up and keep getting stronger with, or without Saudi Arabia...but Washington can't afford to lose the Saudis...it will mean losing all of their Arab and North African allies.. thus losing its power and influence over a very important part of the old, well established world...where much of the world's foundations and history, were born.

It's inevitable that BRICS will always win this arm wrestle, over Saudi Arabia... because BRICS will always evolve, with or without Saudi Arabia. But Saudi Arabia, outside of BRICS, would become another enslaved state, by Washington...just like Germany, Japan, S. Korea...and the whole of the EU. If that was to happen, it will create huge internal, social and religious problems for the Saudis... as the Muslim nation, cannot see itself as subservient to western corruption. And that's how the Muslim world sees Washington, and it's allies...Yes, totally corrupt and disloyal.

So, if the Saudis commited to Washington, it will make the country an outlaw in the Muslim world. It's often that simple...to understand the undercurrents which form major decisions.

Henceforth, in the final analysis... This becomes a question for Saudi Arabia to answer...or, rather commit to one camp or the other... that's according to Washington...as BRICS was never about power alliances.. never about confrontation between the west and BRICS. Rather, BRICS is all about freedom to choose your own path, your own partners, your own best road to Prosperity, Security and Peace. That's the mantra of BRICS... THE NEW MULTIPOLAR ORDER, OF THE WORLD...Where there are No Masters, No Special conditions, No Special Privileges, ro any nation...weak or strong.

FROM HERE... IT'S UP TO THE SAUDI ARABIAN RULERS, TO WHICH SIDE THEY COMMIT.

Note: Washington won't allow Saudi Arabia, to sit on both chairs...like Turkey and India tried to do, without much success.

[apaise]

❛ i guess something about you, you drink. you guess something about me, i drink.❜ ro @ mal

she noticed something was off the moment they entered the hotel room, ro immediately taking the cushy armchair. mal's only officially known her for three weeks but she knows ro isn't an armchair person. she'll always take the corner of the couch, ready for lexi to doze off on her shoulder or for pedro to dump a mountain of snacks between them to share. for all those interviews that love to paint ro as some distant lone wolf . . . mal had come to see how warm ro really is, always deeply in tune with those around her.

so it's immediately jarring to feel so rejected the night of mal joining the band. with pedro and lexi off to grab some midnight dinner from the corner store, mal's left to take the couch alone, wondering what she did for ro to act so different. to most eyes it would seem perfectly normal, even cozy. ro's been nothing but sweet, even fixing mal her favorite mini bar cocktail ( something she's done many times before, sneaking mal up to her room, but . . . never when it's their room ). but mal could feel the distance between them like a block of ice, knowing all too well two weeks ago they'd be sitting on the couch together, her finger circling ro's knee while drinks would wait forgotten.

maybe she messed up by joining the band. maybe it's too much for ro, too fast. she hates to think that she's ruined things by invading ro's life without her permission -- she just wanted to play music together. if she knew this was going to happen, she would've never accepted lexi's offer -- she had just assumed it had come with ro's full approval.

but with ro trying so hard to make mal feel welcome now, it doesn't seem like the right time to talk about the arrangement. they've all already had a few drinks at the gig before to boot, and with them still waiting on lexi and pedro with the food . . . better keep things light. more than mal's hurt uncertainty, she doesn't want press ro when she seems to be struggling too.

the suggested game is ordinary enough, but it's missing their usual undercurrent of teasing. ❝ hm . . . that sounds like an excuse to knock you on your back first. ❞ there's a brief pause where another more flirtatious line would typically follow, but mal just smiles. ❝ but i'm game. ❞ they both know mal would know more basic facts with her being a fan of aurora syndrome before, but she'd try for more daring guesses than what could be found in the magazines.

❝ i feel like . . . ❞ she gazes at ro, head's swimming from the beer earlier ( and no warm hands to guide her for once ). ❝ . . . some of your teachers really liked you. ❞ she mumbles in all earnest sincerity; maybe that's too easy, who wouldn't like ro? ❝ i could see you as one of those quiet, secret genius kids who rock out those banger theses every now and then, ❞ she chuckles, wonder what it would've been like to know ro back then. they would've hung out in different circles, mal more concerned with her reputation back then, but -- maybe in some dark corner at a party, they would've crossed paths. it would've been simpler than their current arrangement. @feveredblurs

[loveisliquor]

There's something soft-- a little shy-- in her eyes, a slight smattering of embarrassment, like he'd caught her doing something she shouldn't. She's not 16 anymore, but he's still off limits in a strange, intangible way-- still her best friend's older brother. "I'm baby now?" She smirks at him, her eyes darkening for a moment and then--crinkling with the force of her laughter. Because of course-- it's his pride. "No-- not obvious. Ridiculous, certainly. That makes no sense to me-- it's not even your butt!" Her laughter softens, until her amusement is nothing but a simmering undercurrent in their conversation, wrapped around every word. "You're glaring at him, I don't think he's coming anywhere near me. Not with Rowena the vein doing the tango on your neck." Her shoulders are at ease here, she laughs easily too, there is no one trying to catch her out, no one trying to get a scoop, no mother to disapprove. There's just Roman and the ridiculous

"I'm-- okay." She shrugs half heartedly, "It's a show my mother wants me to do but I just, want a break, you know? Vegas would be a great opportunity but, I need some space to breathe. But breathing feels like I'm betraying something or someone, too. I've always worked- -you know? It's strange to think of myself, without it. I might be having some sort of quarterlife crisis--" She wrinkles her nose mid yap, and shrugs. "Sorry-- didn't mean to-- info dump I just, never really talk about this stuff." She gives him a shy smile, a question on the tip of her tongue--but they're interrupted by the waiter who finally seats them. She waits till they're settled and looking over the menu to ask-- "How are you, Ro? You seem--good but, it's hard to tell when you're not right in front of me."

"Naw, just the ones practically beggin' for it." He cut her a dry look, eyes a little narrowed at her teasing, though one side of his lips twitched minutely with humour - enough to soften the somewhat hostile look into something a little playful as her finger slid along the muscled column of his neck. His gaze dropped to her finger as it fell away as though she were a child pulling her hand off the hotplate at the realisation that it hurt. "Not the first time, baby. Not the last." He shrugged it off, lifting his eyes back to hers.

"Mine. Wasn't that obvious?" It was a gruff kind of humour she lured out of him, full lips curling into a half smile, always at least a little reluctantly charmed by her particular mixture of innocent and free-spirited. "Yeah yeah, I already agreed, didn't I?" A brow quirked, dark eyes fixed on her as requested. "Long as he keeps his distance." He shook his head before taking a sip of his water. Then, changing the subject: "Speaking of catching up... how're you doing these days? Hayley said something about Vegas?"