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Writing Prompt #53

The Protagonist recognizes themselves in a painting in an art museum. It is 400 years old. A voice whispers in their ear: “I’ve FINALLY found you.”

a hufflepuff finding out that their partner cheated on them

Coming up with ALL the revenge ideas.

yesterday I called the psychiatric clinic where I made an appointment a couple of months ago. at the time they had told me that the waiting list period was 2-4 months, and I wanted to know what it was now.

I’m not sure if they didn’t understand that I was wanting to know specifically where my appointment was on the list, or if they just weren’t going to tell me that, but either way all they would say was that their waiting period is 4-6 months.

so that was encouraging.

my dad sent me the sites for a couple of other clinics to try applying to instead and I keep looking at them but I haven’t done anything yet.

I have it good, really. I’m living with my parents right now and they’re very supportive. they’re trying to help me get better and they’ve made it clear that I can stay here as long as I need. I’m not in any danger. I don’t have any emergency medical issues. I don’t have crippling debt. I don’t have a job right now, but that’s no one’s fault but mine. I know there are people doing so much worse than me. I see their stories every day. people who are still going out and doing things and getting by under horrible circumstances and here I am, doing nothing. not even trying. 

really, the only problem I have is me. 

when I was in school I grew to hate the question of “what are you going to do after you graduate?” so much that I banned all mention of it from my graduation party. now I get the upgraded question, “so what are you doing now?” and I hate it even more.

every time a well-meaning family member asks me that I think, nothing. I am doing nothing. I am floating. I am drifting in space.

my brother came home to visit over the Fourth of July weekend. he had a car that he wanted to bring home so my dad and I went out in my grandfather’s truck to help tow it back. 

on the ride home he asked me the question. 

I mentioned that I had made a psychiatric appointment and that I was sort of waiting on that. 

he gave me advice. about moving forward and getting your name out there. about how things will probably suck for a while because when you send out lots of resumes they’ll almost all get rejected but things will improve. you just gotta push forward a little bit at a time. it’s good that you have that appointment but you shouldn’t just wait for your situation to get better. you always think the next thing will be better, he says, but when it comes along there will be problems with that too. keep pushing forward but don’t place all your hope on any one thing to turn everything around.

uh huh, I said.

it was good advice. 

then we got distracted by a goat and he went on to give me advice about how to survive the zombie apocalypse. he was very heavily caffeinated at the time. 

I couldn’t figure out how to explain that waiting for this appointment felt like waiting for a live preserver. like I was treading water in the middle of the ocean and it was all I could do to stay afloat and someone had said, you cannot wait to be rescued. you have to swim to shore by yourself.

you’ll be alright, my brother said. you did well in school. 

and so I did. I made it on the dean’s list almost every semester, my professors usually liked me, I hardly ever missed class, I could count on one hand the amount of assignments that I had botched or missed in my entire time in school. I graduated magna cum laude and immediately received a great deal of ribbing about how my family had to find out from the program because I didn’t tell them. I had to repeat several times that I also had to find out from the program because they didn’t tell me ahead of time either.

I did not say that it was nice and all but I didn’t really care about it that much. I was tired and happy that it was over and that I could take the stupid robe off and go eat some cookies now and anyway you can’t say things like that, really. 

I did well in school and I hated it. I was exhausted and miserable and I stressed myself sick all the time. I wanted to be able to miss class when I felt bad, or to bullshit on lesser assignments instead of panicking over them. I couldn’t. the anxiety was always pushing me forward, threatening me with the consequences of failure. 

my first semester I went to see a college counselor. I said that I had a lot of anxiety.

“I notice you don’t make eye contact,” the first one said, and suggested a tentative diagnoses of PDD-NOS. I asked to see another counselor.

I saw the next one for the rest of the semester. it was difficult to fit the sessions in around class and work and productions and convocations and everything else. the counselor was nice, but I found that I was not looking forward to seeing her. it involved talking, something I have never been much good at. 

she told me early on that she didn’t believe in labels. “I don’t want to put you in a box,” she said. “Everyone is different. I want to focus on your situation, not on a diagnosis and a list of symptoms.” 

I nodded and I didn’t argue because she was, after all, the counselor, and probably right, even if it made my heart sink because goddamn did I want a label. I wanted a box. I wanted to say this is what I have, this is what’s wrong with me. I was very, very tired of saying this is just the way I am. 

in our last session she told me that her conclusion was that I was probably somewhere on the autism spectrum. I did not really feel like that was true, but even if it was I wondered why everyone seemed interested in giving me a very vague diagnosis of something autistic but resisted putting any labels on the anxiety I had very explicitly told them I had. 

I never resumed the sessions the next semester. I kept on doing well in school. college offered lots of opportunities: clubs and honor societies and extracurricular work and field trips and conferences and social events and networking opportunities. all kinds of ways to build up your future, plan for life after graduation. 

I couldn’t care about my future.I knew that I should but I couldn’t. I did the things that were right in front of me, the things that I had to do, and I didn’t have anything left. I didn’t feel enthusiastic or excited about anything.

but after all, how bad could things be, if I was doing so well?

things have never been truly dire. I have never been at risk of self-harm. I get up every morning and I do some things and I brush my teeth and shower every day. I’m not sure how much of it is driven by anxiety and guilt over not doing the things, but I do them. things were never so bad in college that anyone saw cause for alarm. things are not so bad now that I cannot wait two, four, six months in abeyance. 

you can’t wait too long, my brother said. if you spend too long out of college not doing anything, people will notice. they won’t want to hire you so much. 

it has been seven months now since I graduated. I think a lot about those old stories about people getting trapped in the faerie otherworld. how time seems to stand still, one moment stretching out forever like a dream, but when they finally return to the real world it has been centuries and centuries. 

lately life feels like floating. like anti-gravity, drifting through endless space; like swimming against a current, moving with all my might but going nowhere. things don’t work and I don’t know why. books pile up unread, projects rot, emails go unanswered and there’s no reason for any of it. things just don’t happen. 

I look at these appointment forms and I think, this isn’t going to work. they are going to tell me that there is really nothing wrong with me. that there is something wrong with me but they’re not going to say what it is because they don’t want to put me in a box. that there is something wrong with me but it’s not the thing I think is wrong, it’s not the anxiety or depression it’s something else they think is more interesting. that there is something wrong with me but there’s really not much they can do about it. that things can’t be too bad if I did so well in school, if there are no emergencies now, if I am moving from day to day. 

that I will sit in someone’s office feeling like I did sitting in the car with my brother, trying to explain why I have done nothing with my life for seven months, but being unable to get the words right, and they will shake their head and send me away. 

I wish I had not done well in school. I wish I had failed, because I am failing now, failing at the things I want to do, failing at doing the things I am expected to do, failing at finding any meaning in anything, failing to be happy. but it’s unbelievable, even to me. it makes no sense. the fault must be mine, somewhere, but I can’t find it. 

Deep Tissue - JARED LETO X READER

AUTHOR’S NOTE; Thank you for the request lovely! I swear I just posted something about this earlier. How he can climb literal mountains, vigorously hike trails and terrains but his back is killing him on tour like….Sir Leto, what are you doing to yourself?

Your arms folded across your chest as you listened to him speak and you couldn’t help the distant feeling of unease that resonated through your abdomen. You had visited Jared often to tend to the muscles and aches in his back especially when he decided to go on tour with the band. He often explained that when the band went on tour and did shows, they always made it their mission to give the fans everything they had  including blood, sweat and tears. 

“If we can’t give them all of it, then we wont do it. Period.” He finished while placing his hand out and allowing his band mates to put theirs on top of his. It seemed to be a pre-show ritual of some sort, but your eyes rolled. You understood the idea of putting passion into everything you did, but his need for your expertise was becoming more and more frequent to the point where even you started to worry. 

You were surprised when you saw them all walk towards the exit of the bus and he suddenly stopped to hang back. You pulled your satchel over your shoulder before moving that way yourself and he blocked your path. 

“Hey….” He spoke simply.

“Yep.” You answered quickly. 

“I just wanted to say thanks for being available for most of the tour.” His grateful words were genuine but for some reason you felt like there was more. 

“But….?” You question.

“I think I’m good tonight. If you want to get some rest or go get something to eat with the rest of the crew, you can.” His eyes leveled with your and he nodded. 

“Glad t’know you’re not a slave driver……I think I might just take you up on that though.” You answered. Truth be told, you always had a good time with everyone, but the idea of a hot bath and being left alone for their nearly 4 hour show intrigued you more than anything else. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face at the idea, but you tried to control it because you didn’t want him to get the idea that you didn’t like being around. 

“Try to contain your excitement.” He chuckled out. You pulled up your hand for a high five, but he hugged you instead. Everyone was a hugger, and even though you weren’t really into it, you hugged back. 

“Knock em dead.” You encouraged. You skipped down the stairs of the busses exit door happily but paused when he called for you.

“What are you going to do, anyways. You got a date or something?” He questioned and his curiosity was genuine. 

“Yeah with a real bath tub.” You admitted. There was a hotel just up the street with oval bathtubs, like the ones made for a queen. You couldn’t miss out on it. You weren’t surprised when he shrugged in response, but you made sure to move fast before he changed his mind. The thing about Jared that you learned quickly was that if you didn’t act fast, you’d regret it. When he was nice, he was nice, but when he wasn’t, you’d better prepare yourself. A perfectionist at best, and a control freak at worst. You never truly minded it because you were nearly the same way except less controlled and more solution / goal oriented. 

“Be back by 12, that’s when we should be heading back.” He ordered. 

“Sure thing Daddy-O!” You yelled back throwing up the peace sign behind you as you walked away without turning to look at him. You were mildly aware of his sexual kinks, but they held no interest to you. You had seen enough pieces of him to overlook most of his intimate parts, plus he was never one to really hide them either. He was the direct definition of shameless. 

You could tell when the show started because you picked a hotel close to the concert and the booming of the music resonated through the floors of your hotel room. It as like you hadn’t left work at all. The time passed slowly and you were eternally grateful for this fact because you found yourself doing a lot more than you had originally panned. 

You went to a restaurant to eat real food. With Jared being a vegitarian you usually found yourself snacking on whatever he had in an effort to keep a low profile, but the time had finally come for you to really eat. You ordered spaghetti, you admired the view, you listened to the music and even decided to go for a job. It was literally the perfect night and there was only one thing left to do; bathe. 

Your clothes peeled away from your body reluctantly and the sweat that clung to your skin only made it even more difficult to get undressed. The sound of Halsey blasted in the distance from your phone and the echo of it off the bathroom walls nearly made you fall in love with her all over again. 

You slipped into the heat slowly not wanting to get burned and sighed a breath of relief as you found yourself submerged. The bubbles surrounded you in a cascade of cloudy goodness as you felt your aches melt away. The deep curve in the base of the tub only gave you more room to sink as you thought of nothing but peaceful places. 

You nearly jumped from your skin when you heard Halsey’s voice cease and the sound of your phone ring and buzz against the countertop. It couldn’t have been 12 already? Cinderella hadn’t even begun to truly enjoy her porcelain prince just yet. You did the unthinkable at first, and ignored it, allowing it to go to voicemail because you knew it couldn’t have been Jared. He was a stickler about time and when he said 12 he meant 12. However, when it rang again you knew all too well that if you didn’t answer this time he would surely kill you. 

Your frame leaned over the side of the tub elegantly and gripped the phone in your hand. It was the young conquistador himself. Your eyes grazed the time and it was only 11. An entire hour early?

The facetime feature was lit up but you declined it. In declining you called back normally. 

“You seriously declined my call?” He asked. The slight outrage in his voice was clear.

“I’m…..not decent. When I said I had a date with a tub, I was being literal.” you explained. 

“I need you. I need you to come back now. Where are you?” His voice was panicked and you were slightly confused. 

“I’m ….in a bathtub Mr. Leto.” You answered in an attempt to be professional. 

“We’re coming that way, which one is it. Is it the Driskill?” He questioned. 

“….Yeah, I……I mean I can come to you J it’s no problem.” You answered, but he answered before you could truly finish your suggestion. 

“No, i’m already half way there. What room?” He questioned. 

“217.” You answered. 

“Yeah.” He answered before immediately hanging up. You looked down at the ended call on your phone and swore. 

“Dammit Jared. I can’t even take a fucking bath, really? I say i’m naked and you don’t even give a shit. I’d hate to see the day i’m on fucking fire or dying.” You grumbled while scrambling from the bath tub and rolling into a near by towel.  “You’ll never have a relationship, god forbid.” you continue hustling to your room and throwing your fresh clothes on your body. The sound of the draining tub was nothing compared to the loud banging on your door. 

You had just pieced together your shirt when you slid to the door to be greeted by a nearly slumped over Jared Leto. His lower half was slightly damp, and his body leaned mostly on Shannon as he stood in the door way. A deep breath rippled through you and hot air escaped your lips while your free hand fell to your side. Your eyes leveled with his and you narrowed yours.

“What. The fuck. Did you do?” You questioned. Most people didn’t understand that a massager’s work was like a painting on an empty canvas. They attempt to perform art and turn pain into a masterpiece of relief when complete, but when someone cancels out that work in a SINGLE night, it invokes a sense of rage. 

“Everything.” Shannon spoke matching your facial expression perfectly while glancing down at his younger brother. You opened the door wider to allow them entry only to mentally kick yourself at the idea of really thinking you’d have a night off. You should’ve known better. Jared wasn’t exactly a man with a plan. 

“Just lay him on the floor, right there.” You answer, pointing to an empty spot on the floor in front of the bed. Shannon let him down softly but the sound of Jared’s groaned announced his discomfort with the idea. You closed the door behind you and pulled your oversized shirt up on your shoulders.

“Not the bed?” He questioned. You tilted your head to the side in disagreement. 

“You’ve been here less than 5 minutes and you’re already trying to weasel your way into my bed? I’m shocked at you Sir.” You answered with artificial outrage while Shannon laughed. 

“Should he be on the bed?” Shannon questioned now serious. 

“No, he needs something flat and hard to straighten him out.” You nearly chuckled when Shannon’s eyes locked with yours and he smirked. 

“You know what I mean.” You shook your head while letting your smile fade. You knew that if Jared was in pain he wouldn’t indulge in the joke. 

“Lay face down on the floor and just …..don’t move anymore.” 

“Yeah, she likes em to lye still.” Shannon joked while rolling Jared’s body over slightly as if to help. Jared groaned a groan of annoyance, but Shannon laughed anyways. Shannon wasn’t afraid of timing nor was he intimidated in the slightest by his brother’s warnings. He would get in his pun, regardless of how anyone felt about it especially if it was a good one. 

“Be honest now….how bad does it hurt?” You question finally lowering yourself to your knees next to him. He only groaned and sighed. Your eyes lowered to his legs and you couldn’t stop yourself from touching them. 

“Did you put yourself in ice water?” You question and the sound of annoyance slipped through your tone before you could catch it. He was your boss and respect was a necessary ingredient in your relationship, but once more, you wouldn’t tolerate him taring himself apart. Shannon’s face looked away from yours confirming that it was indeed true and you were anything but pleased. 

“I told you that trick wouldn’t work again, you actually have to go through days of healing before that actually helps. You could make it worse.” You urged. His hand waved in your direction and you frowned. 

“Don’t you shoo me.” You ordered flicking at his ear with your fingers. 

“OW!” He answered finally turning to look at you.

“You mean to tell me that you can climb literal mountains, vigorously hike trails in the middle of no where and skillfully rock climb for days, but you can’t perform without nearly destroying yourself? One of these days I swear, you’ll listen when I advise you to do something.” You shrugged. His eyes narrowed and you inched to your right slightly while pressing your lips together.

“You mad?” You question sarcastically. He spoke your name with agitation and you rolled your eyes. 

“Just….be still.” You requested before going to work on the center of his back back. 

“Is, this where most of your pain is?” You questioned while pressing down on a slight lump. He groaned in response and you smiled. 

“You’ve got a knot J. Were you spinning on stage again?” You questioned and he groaned again. You shook your head before standing up and straddling his body. Resting your knees on each side of him, you placed your hands firmly on his back.

“This is going to hurt, you’ve bruised some muscles and thanks to your arctic bath in the middle of the parking lot, you’ve tensed them up when you should’ve been relaxing them. Now you have a lump.” You answered. 

“Now count to 3.” You began counting with him but stopped at two to begin. You knew full well that if you waited for 3, he’d tense up and just make it worse. The groan that left his body nearly moved even you, and he jerked slightly as if he were going to throw you off. 

“Breathe in.” You advised. Shannon’s eyes flickered to you and you looked around the room.

“Get a sock out of my bag, get me some rice and put it in a microwave or something.” You requested.

“What’s that for?” He questioned.

“Quickest way to make a heating pad….” you answered as if this was common knowledge. Being a girl with killer cramps came in handy when you knew your relief products. He moved quickly leaving the room. 

“J, this is going to hurt but I need you to relax. Squeeze my knew if it gets to be too much.” You requested watching him move his arm from above his head to rest at his side. He was much taller than you, so his access to your leg was simple since you towered over him at that point. 

Your work began and the intensity of the pressure in his back worried you. How long had he been walking around with this pain? 

It didn’t take long to soothe it out, but with the general shock to his muscles he would need that heating pad soon. The firm grip on your knee informed you that you were getting too caught up in your work and you immediately stopped. He moaned, and repeated it again as if the pain was still there. 

“Ow, J. Are you still in pain?” You questioned looking down at his back. 

“Just a little, towards the shoulders.” You figured. 

“Sounds right. I worked the knot up your body, all you need now is the heat and some rest.” you answered continuing your assault on his shoulders. 

“Better?” You questioned and he answered with another moan. I’ll take that as a yeah. 

Shannon’s frame slid through the door elegantly with all the ingredients that you asked him for, and he wasted no time placing it in the microwave to warm it up.

“You kids behaving yourselves?” He questioned. 

“I dunno, he’s been moaning for a while now so I guess i’m doing something right unless he’s been faking it. My heart would be shattered.” You respond locking eyes with Shannon once more and he smirked. It was always easy to provoke a reaction from Shannon when he was in a good mood, but there were times it was like pulling teeth. 

The sound of the microwave woke the room and you moved to stand up from your position only to have Jared’s hand tense around your knee. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. His eyes opened and locked with yours. It was an intense stare but it was obvious what it meant. He was such a baby, and the look was enough to make you lower yourself once more and continue. 

It felt like you had been working on his back for over an hour, but you were pleased to find him asleep. 

“J?” You called to him softly only for him to snore. A giggle erupted from you and your mouth gaped open as you turned to Shannon who was crouched comfortably in a chair near the window texting. He suppressed a laugh and looked back down at his phone while shaking his head slightly. Little was known to you about Shannon’s personal life, but you were sure he was conversing with a woman. 

“Help me get him on the bed? Then we’ll put ice at the top of his shoulders and heat at the base of his back. He should wake up tomorrow feeling a lot better.” Shannon rested his phone on the chair and moved over to help you. It didn’t take you guys long to get him on the bed, when asleep he was nimble. 

After getting him there, you placed the bags of ice behind his shoulders and the hot compress against the base of his back. You leaned in close to put the ice near the base of his neck as well, just incase. You pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of his face only to have him smile. It was a half hearted smile as if he were dreaming something nice. 

“……Berries.” he whispered incoherently and you smiled. Oh what a fat ass. you thought to yourself. You wrinkled your eyebrows and sniffed your hair and the shirt clinging to your skin only to smell the fragrance of your body soap. 

“I’ll take that as a thank you.” You whispered with a chuckle. 

“Thanks.: Shannon said simply.

“You wanna sniff me too? I’ll even let ya do it for free…..” You joked only for him to smile. 

“You guys take this room, I’ll get the one next door.” You urged only for Shannon to shrug. 

“I just booked it for you. Just pick up the card and you’re good.”

“Thanks.” You answered. 

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–WWC

Happy Birthday Heath Ledger 💙 Always in our hearts…

First kiss ft. Vilkas, Teldryn Sero, Brynjolf, Gwilin

A/N: Guess who’s back? (but for how long?)

Requested: Yes

–

Vilkas:

It had been a long trek back - but a rewarding one – finding the merry revelers as they wandered the land with their packs full of mead, happy to share in their revelry when the ‘grand companion’ passed by. He’d nursed the bottle right the way to Jorrvaskr, his smile fading as he witnessed his harbinger hunched uncomfortably over the table, elbow propped up on the wood with thumb and finger pinched at the top of their nose. They huffed resignedly, slamming down her charcoal to the point it shattered and rolled back into the hearth.  

He pulled out a seat beside them, barely finishing his inquiry as to what troubles were plaguing them before the pile of parchment was slid in his direction.

Contracts, summons, missives… inheritance… their toll weighed heavy. Then his eyes trailed to the higher pile, the completed pile, and the two empty ink pots beside it.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance.” They shook their head wearily.

“You’ve only just returned Vilkas, I couldn’t ask it of you. Go, get your rest.”

“And what of your rest. If we finish these together, we’ll both get what we want.”

There was no further argument when he fixed them with a glare, their mouth slamming shut as he began his work.

He took the contracts, signing them off with a flick of his wrist, and the personal papers were left aside, another night in the privacy of the dragonborns quarters would be for them.

An hour and a half later, they were done, and the completion of the job was about as satisfying as the cracks they received from their backs.

“Thank you Vilkas, I do believe drinks are on me when Hulda allows back in the mare.” It was fleeting, innocent, but it set his heart pounding. Their hand squoze his shoulder, and then their lips were pressed against his cheek, the sensation lingering long after their footsteps had disappeared.

Teldryn Sero:

The ash had whipped up dramatically, sending the duo to seek shelter. The cave was a mere crack in the mountainside, cold, damp, and dark – til Teldryns palm fluttered alight with arcane flame. What little kindling they could find was thrown to the flame, the fire growing till it was enough to light the small cavern and warm their freezing fingertips.

They pressed together – side by side beneath a threadbare blanket, holier than a priest of Arkay. With a bottle of Sujamma between them, they made the best of the situation, laughing until they were wheezing at one another’s tales. He’d long shed the cowl - for it did nothing but inhibit his ability to drink - but his mask remained. Through glossy, beady eyes he gazed at his companion, their flushed cheeks, gleaming grin, and sparkling eyes as they – yet again – told him the story of the tiny jester and his broken wagon. He’d heard it numerous times before, but he drank up every word, if for no other reason than to hear their jovial laughter.

He passed the bottle, barely a mouthful left, but still, they threw it back, the blanket slipping from their shoulder in the process.

“You know…” They whispered, eyes lidded as they glossed over his mask “This is technically an indirect kiss.” They giggled, covering their mouth light a child. He grinned back, leaning to fix the blanket at their shoulder.

“Then perhaps we should kiss properly. There’s no drink left after all.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to purr in such a way – though when they leaned into him without a second thought, he didn’t complain.

Brynjolf:

“Mind if I join you?” He took his seat with the nod of their head, placing his tankard down and fingering the rim. Despite all that had occurred, it seemed neither could summon the courage to address their current predicament. Desperately, he threw shy, fleeting glances, coughing, fidgeting – pitiful attempts to gain their attention. His mishap still pounded in his head.

They’d barely made it out the ruin, bruised, battered, and soaked to the bone. Mercer had taken his toll on all of them, but none more so than the dragonborn. Brynjolf could see it – the way they stood, all hunched, swaying ever so slightly. They were drained, and seemingly invisible to Karliah as she prattled on about Nocturnal and the task his friend was set to complete.

He’d caught them when they’d fell, legs giving way to the fatigue that flooded their limbs. He held them, their face pressed against his shoulder, and reflected on all he’d put them through. From a quick pick on the streets of Riften to slaying their own guild master in a Falmer infested dwarven ruin. And what had he done to help?

His hands stilled them as they heaved themselves back up, face steeled and tired as they looked to him for – something. So he leaned in, brash and uncalculated as he pressed his lips against theirs.

He’d forgotten the Nightingale armour was akin to a second skin.

They chuckled from across the table, grinning as he flushed across his cheeks and down his neck. He’d never been so embarrassed. His hands held his face, a groan rattling through his throat as their chuckles silenced, teeth at their lip to hold in what hadn’t escaped.

A gentle touch at his wrists and his hands were being withdrawn, placed upon the table with theirs atop his own. His breath hitched as they leaned towards him, smirk shrinking til their lips puckered and pressed against his own, unobstructed.

Gwilin:

“Excellent day for a swim” his voice was honey on the wind, an irresistible treat that had the dragonborn turning from their task in an instant. His shadow covered them, granting them the ability to gaze upon his smiling face, eyes crinkled at the corners, as he peered over the bridge at them.

“Perhaps you should join me them.” They’d been serious, but the jovial chime of his laughter proved the man was still all too innocent of their affections.

Once again, the sun shone in their eyes, and the crunching of fallen leaves that grew closer proved he’d abandoned his previous spot. They joined him at the bank, his eyes darting away and a dusky brown coating his cheeks. They were soaked to the bone, dressed in nothing but their underthing’s – and the medallion that hung from their wrist.

“I do believe this situation is a tad inappropriate” He mused

“Have to live life in the moment though don’t you?” It was a motto of sorts, one they turned on him regularly – an excuse to drink, to fight, to love – all to see his nose twitch in mild discomfort. They weren’t wrong.

“True, but yours are turning to bad habits.” He mumbled, allowing their laughter to ring in his ears and deepen his flush.

Temba’s voice shocked them both – a summon almost as powerful as the greybeards. He looked towards to mill, considering what trouble a moments delay could cause him – the dragonborn didn’t visit Ivarstead often.

With a deep sigh, he turned to say his farewells, only to have their touch behind his neck, and their lips upon his own.

“I do hope that becomes a habit.”

Omg omg omg When you just realize you they mention Jared Leto aka new joker in a heath ledger film

Under the cut are #501·small/medium HQ gifs of the actor Alexander Ludwig, who’s best known for his role in·Vikings and The Hunger Games. None of the following gifs are mine and complete credit goes to the owners. If you’d like your gifs taken down, shoot me a message. There really shouldn’t be any repeats but I might have missed a few.·Also, please like and/or reblog if you found this helpful. Some were made by rejectsofrph and roleplay-stuff-and-things. Some contain blood, gore and death.

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