#anoffering

[gwahren]

@anoffering, [ alistair ] says ... Crowns do strange things to the heads beneath them.

                it troubles him — his birthright; it troubled him long before the crown was ever set upon his furrowed brow. it was one of the first things she had ever learned about him, that he did not want the throne. she empathized with this plight- but elethea cousland did not pity, no matter how much she loved him. duty had been instilled in her from her first breath, perhaps even earlier. it coursed through her veins as surely as calenhad's blood ran through his. that made protecting ferelden his duty, however much he may dislike it. but her tongue is held on this matter; now was not the time for such debates, and the debate that would arise from that conversation would not be very productive.

                graceful fingers grasp at his chin, his jaw, and pale eyes narrow upon his face. gently turning his head this way & that in thorough examination of his skull. a pensive hum reverberates from her chest as rosy lips purse to match her knit brow. "no, your head seems exactly as it was before..." there is no mirth in her tone, but she teases. playing the studious physician as she searches for any sign of abnormality. her hand releases his jaw to settle on his chest, smoothing invisible wrinkles. "i'm quite an expert on the subject, you know. there's scarce an inch on you that i'm not intimately familiar with," only then does she smirk, tipping her head playfully to one side. "or is this your way of telling me that my head has grown large lately?"

[praesparo]

〆 ‒‒‒‒‒ plotted starter for @anoffering

                    scattered somewhere in a valley between faron & necluda, link stands guard as his princess investigates one of many ancient ruins. burdened with prophecy, the chosen champion couldn't help but avert his watchful gaze to look back at zelda as she works. no one else but her wished there were answers buried beneath, praying it would open up another path for them to follow. the shrines neglected her, the goddess ignored her & link wondered if her own prophecy had started to eat away at her soul. though hope has yet to be extuingished. link glances to the sky, noticing the foreboding weather approaching. he turns, closing the gap between them. < the storm is coming. we should find shelter before it reaches us. > he pauses, finding the tension between them harder than anticipated to navigate through. he was the living reminder of her failures, after all. & he hated himself for it too. < do you need help before we move on, princess? >

[studiodrafts]

˗ˏˋ     ᵃᵗᵉˡⁱᵉʳ·     dear   atticus   levy   ﹙   @anoffering   ﹚   ﹕   want   to   meet   up   in   the   bathroom   down   the   hall   and   have   sex   ?   warmest   regards   ,   mason   greene.

mason   hadn't   expected   to   see   atticus   back   from   his   trip   so   early   ,   but   he'd   be   lying   if   he   wasn't   incredibly   happy   to   see   him.   as   soon   as   he   laid   eyes   on   him   at   the   entryway   of   his   work   ,   it's   like   all   time   had   stopped   ,   mason   damn   near   burning   his   own   hand   while   he   stared   at   him   mid   pouring   a   customer's   coffee.   somehow   ,   atticus   remembered   to   come   visit   him   right   before   his   lunch   break   ,   giving   them   ample   time   to   talk   &   reunite   for   a   bit   before   mason   was   done   for   the   day.   mason   thought   he   could   control   himself   &   be   normal   for   the   thirty   minutes   they   had together   ,   but   fuck   ,   it's   been   a   good   two   months   since   they   last   saw   one   another   in   person.   the   moment   they   went   outside   to   ❛   talk   ❜   in   the   alleyway   behind   the   shop   ,   their   lips   did   everything   but   talk.

mason's   back   hits   against   the   brick   wall   as   they   kiss   ,   clinging   to   his   lover   as   they   indulge   in   a   reunion   that   was   sorely   needed.   they've   barely   exchanged   a   handful   of   words   to   one   another   ,   but   that   will   be   remedied   once   they   indulge   in   one   another   just   for   a   little   bit   longer.   atticus   whispers   something   about   meeting   in   the   bathroom   later   to   indulge   in   just   a   little   bit   more   ,   the   idea   of   even   thinking   of   that   making   mason   laugh   against   his   lips.   ❝   jeez babe   ,   keep   it   in   your   pants.   i   missed   you   too   ,   but   i   also   don't   wanna   be   fired.   ❞   more   laughter   escapes   past   his   lips   as   he   leans   back   against   the   wall.   long   fingers   run   through   atticus'   brown   locks   for   a   bit   ,   the   touch   a   wonderful   confirmation   that   he   really   was   here   ━━   he   was   finally   home.   ❝   i   really missed   you   ,   ❞   mason   sighs   ,   pressing   a   much   more   innocent   kiss   to   his   nose.   ❝   &   i   do   want   you   ,   don't   get   me   wrong   ,   but   you   can   wait   another   four   hours   to   fuck   me   in   a   bed.   we   deserve   that   ,   at   the   very   least   ,   wouldn't   you   agree   ?   ❞

[gwahren]

                sparring — up until this very moment, that is — had always been a simple, mundane fact of life. often involving her mother, brother, or on the very rare occasion a knight or squire who was not afraid to potentially injure the teyrn's only daughter. it had always been utterly tedious & completely sexless; as routine as dressing in the morning or eating at midday. despite her ... inclination towards alistair, her intentions for inviting him to spar that morning had been completely innocuous. it seemed the intelligent thing to do — to train herself to fight someone of his stature; whilst simultaneously honing his reflexes to combat with someone slighter & quicker than he was. all of this to say, she had not anticipated or planned on sparring turning as charged as it had become.

                it had started with him pinning her — quite easily — to a nearby tree. so she, simultaneously impressed, utterly attracted, and deeply humiliated, had to get even. naturally. which had become a sort of contest in dominance assertion. one pinning the other, or pointing to an open vulnerability which would have been fatal, had the fight been real. she had not stopped to reflect on the excitement it all stirred within her; to be evenly matched, to know that — even holding back as he was — he was so strong. not until she found herself wedged between the cold, hard ground beneath her & alistair above her. breathless; rather winded from the impact of meeting the dirt so roughly, she stares up at him — almost grinning.

@anoffering, [ alistair ] says ... Are we still sparring, or… something else?.

                she blinks, unable to answer; and thrilled a little by the timbre of his voice. enough to summon gooseflesh at the nape of her neck. this was closer than they'd ever really been, before. they had kissed — quite a few times, now. enough that she'd almost lost count — but they had strayed no further. even without the matter of alistair's sweet hesitance, they had neither the privacy or safety to permit such intimacy. but now ... she became suddenly aware of the suggestive nature of their current position. horizontal, trapped between his arms, his face mere inches from her own, the fingers of her left hand curling into the linen of his sleeve.

                "one does not ... necessarily exclude the other," she admits slowly, seemingly transfixed by his mouth. even permitting a breathy chuckle to escape her at the ridiculousness of the situation. cheeks flushed like some lovesick girl — which, she supposed she was. there was no other name for her current ailment. "either way, i suppose we cannot stay like this forever." though, despite her words, she makes no motion to untangle herself from him.

[n0bodyson]

@anoffering : [ squeeze ] sender gives receiver's butt a playful squeeze from behind. ( margot & julian )

being back home in ottawa always puts margot at peace. not that she hasn't grown to love minnesota, or found different ways for the places that she travels to to feel more like home; but it doesn't bring her the type of relaxation and calmness that being in her home rink does. especially now, in the off-season, having matty home and all of her siblings back in once place again. perhaps she's a little more homesick than she lets on, as she tries to shake off the anxious thoughts while sitting her equipment bag down.

the feeling of a familiar hand grabbing at her ass nearly makes her jump out of her shoes, turning around to shoot a glare in julian's direction. margot huffs, giving him a playful shove against his chest as her hazel-colored eyes look around the rink for any sign of her brother. margot had made the excuse that julian was a friend of a teammate, and since they knew of one another and he lived so close by, why not have the three of them train together for the off-season? they've been seeing each other for months, now, but margot hasn't been able to bring herself to tell matty what's really going on between her and julian.

❝ you're such an ass, sometimes. and i mean that. . . literally. ❞ margot tries to pretend she's mad about it, but there's a hint of a smile that she is actively trying to keep from over-taking her features. ❝ look, i haven't told matty about. . . all of this, yet. ❞ the blonde gestures between the two of them, her voice low as she glances around one more time for any sight of her brother. ❝ i'm going to tell him, i swear, just. . . maybe keep the ass-grabbing to a minimum while we're here. ❞

[n0bodyson]

@anoffering : [ carry ] without asking, sender takes receiver's heavy bags from them and carries them. ( ella & mitch )

being back in new york after what felt like an eternity seemed to have healed something deep inside of her. being able to see her brother, her friends, the rest of the family she had grown to call her own, after so many months of being away from them; it had sewn together something so crucial inside of her. she loves minnesota, of course she does, but new york is still a piece of home to her, too. getting to be back with the mets, watching adriel shine after his first gold glove winning season, was more than ella could have ever asked for.

a short break while mitch finished up his series on the west coast, and ella couldn't be happier to be home. he meets her in the lobby of their apartment building with waiting hands, taking each one of her bags into his arms to carry back upstairs while still leaving one free to hold her hand as the elevator takes them back up to their apartment. ❝ thank you, honey. ❞ she reaches up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, her payment for all his hard work.

she waits patiently until they are back in the comfort of their home, watching with intent as mitch begins to discard her things near the closet, before tugging at his arm to pull him closer. on the tips of her toes, ella wraps her hand around the small of his back to keep him flush against her, before kissing him firmly. she missed him like hell while they were away from each other, even just for a week, reminding her that those days of spending months apart are finally over. ella is home, now.

❝ i missed you so much. ❞ she wants to know all about how the series went against the mariners, their last minute wins and pulling closer to the home run record; but for now, they have a lot of other manners of catching up to do, first.

[studiodrafts]

˗ˏˋ     ᵃᵗᵉˡⁱᵉʳ·     dear   rhaenyra   targaryen   ﹙   @anoffering   ﹚   ﹕   once   again   ,   i'm   struck   by   melancholy.   warmest   regards   ,   howl pendragon.

it's   rare   when   they   have   a   moment   of   peace   spent   together like   this   ,   the   two   quietly   sharing   a   space   whilst   doing   other   activities   ,   still   close   in   proximity.   while   rhaenyra   sits   &   rests   after   a   long   day   of   councils   &   responsibilities   ,   the   wizard   remains   close   at   her   side   ,   reading   through   a   book   of   spells   he   often   enjoys   studying   through.   for   this   brief   moment   ,   you'd   never   believe   there   was   any   real   conflict   outside   of   this   room   ,   or   that   the   infighting   in   the   targaryen   family   was   slowly   on   the   brink   of   destroying   everything   piece   by   piece.   for   this   moment   ,   they   can   simply   be   two   people   in   love   ,   sharing   quality   time   without   anything   else   to   worry   about.   that's   all   that   this   was   ,   until   that   is   ,   his   princess   speaks.

immediately   ,   howl   is   quick   to   close   his   book   ,   leaving   it   on   a   nearby   table   as   he   turns   toward   the   future   queen.   ever   since   they   were   young   ,   they've   always   turned   to   one   another   in   times   of   distress   or   frustration.   they've   always   trusted   one   another   ,   always   helped   in   any   way   they   can   ,   but   as   they   grew   older   with   more   responsibilities to endure , there   is   less   &   less   howl   can   to   help   ease   the   melancholy   that   aches   rhaenyra.   no   magic   can   cure   the   fighting   or   the   incoming   war.   if   he   could   ,   he'd   do   so   instantly   ,   even   if   it   meant   giving   up   his   own   life.   he'd   do   it   for   her   ━━   he's   nothing   if   he   doesn't   have   rhaenyra   at   his   side.

hands   clasp   at   hers   as   he   kneels   before   her   ,   his   lips   pressed   against   her   knuckles   in   loving   adoration.   ❝   i'm   sorry   that   you're   dealing   with   such   internal   pain.   ❞   despite   her   own   reservations   against   alicent   &   others   involved   in   this   ordeal   ,   he   knows   rhaenyra   all   too   well.   she   doesn't   want   to   fight   ,   nor   does   she   want   to   drag   her   poor   father   into   more   conflict   ,   not   when   he's   already   so   frail.   blue   eyes   meet   hers   ,   her   own   ache   mirrored   back   in   him.   ❝   is   there   anything   i   can   do   to   help   ,   nyra   ?   anything   at   all   ,   you   know   i'll   do   whatever   it   is   you   need.   ❞   howl   presses   another   kiss   against   her   hands   ,   head   bowing   before   her   as   he   awaits   her   response.   ❝   i'm   yours   ,   ❞   he   adds   ,   this   time   in   her   high   valyrian   tongue.   ❝   yours   to   love   ,   yours   to   command.   simply   name   what   you   need of me   &   i'll   do   it   ,   my   nyra.   just   let   me   help   you   ,   please.   ❞

[excaliabur]

⤷̲ correspondence with, @anoffering as guinevere ... ❝ are you planning to stay for dinner? ❞ :·

                        ❝ dinner?   ❞ the prince repeats, in clear surprise before he can stop himself. moments alone with guinevere are already far too rare ... hidden carefully between duties, expectations and the ever-watchful eyes of camelot. and even those moments never seem to last long enough. never enough time to grow comfortable, before caution pulls them apart at once. for a brief instant, arthur merely stands there looking uncharacteristically foolish, with lips parted as warmth rises toward his cheeks. ❝ you would ... like me to stay for dinner?   ❞ there is something almost boyish in the way he asks, and surely merlin can cover his absence for a little while longer.

and perhaps, just once, arthur can allow himself to indulge in something dangerously close to happiness. slowly, he removes the cloak draped over his arm, to lay it carefully across the bench beside her modest wooden table. he clears his throat then, making valiant effort to reclaim some measure of princely composure. ❝ well, i am rather hungry. it would probably be wise to eat something before returning to the palace.   ❞ he says casually, or what he hopes passes for.

stepping back over the bench, he settles into his seat once more, with elbows resting against the worn wood as gaze drifts inevitably back to her. there's a softness that overtakes his features whenever guinevere is near. it is a little wonder the entire kingdom has not already discovered them. ❝ so then, what are we to have, guinevere? you do not happen to have an entire chicken roasted in preparation, do you?   ❞ arthur asks, in teasing light, as the corner of his mouth curves upward into an easy grin.