I would like some Flynn/Dorian please and “a single loving kiss left on the other’s forehead when they fall asleep snuggled close together”? Thank you!

There’s no sound as he climbs the steps. Scorn and chastisement chase each other in circles round his chest. Muffling his movements with magic. Considering accepting this ridiculous offer. He should just turn around and go back to his own room.

A flash of a smile appears in his mind’s eye.

That smile. It never fails to bring him to a pause. For some unfathomable reason, he seems to be the cause of it. And not only when they engage in the more scandalous moments. It seems all Dorian has to do is exist.

One deep breath. Another. And then he continues up the stairs until he’s passed silently through the door and into Flynn’s quarters.

Said man is hunched over his desk, hair standing on end like he’s come in contact with one of Dorian’s storm spells, the fingers tangled in it stained with smudges of ink. A frown tugs at his lips, bright eyes dull and heavy lidded. Dorian imagines him with less worries, dressed in Ostwick finery – no, that would be horribly unfashionable and Tevinter finery would suit him better anyway – and attending to the mundane matters of his house. Of course, that was never in Flynn’s future.

This is preferable to the possibility of never finding his brilliance under the glow of red lyrium.

His head jerks up, hand grasping at the abandoned quill blindly. The way his tense and slightly guilty expression softens brings a smile to Dorian’s mouth. He pushes away from the desk and crosses the room. Dorian meets him halfway, letting the quieting spell dissipate. Flynn wraps him in an embrace, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“You came,” he breathes.

In short order, they’re curled beneath the decadent covers on Flynn’s bed. And Dorian wonders why he’s been so resistant to this idea. Why the few offers of spending the night, even without more amorous activities afoot, sends him running for the tavern and the cheap wine. Why, when Flynn looks at him like … like he might actually feel something for Dorian.

The night closes in around them, the fire dimming. For once, his mind is blessedly silent. All he does is enjoy Flynn’s fingers tracing patterns across his skin. He thinks he might be dreaming, feeling the echoes of young and foolish fancies of being loved in a way Tevinter would never accept.

But then Flynn’s lips brush across his temple. Soft. Reverent. The kiss he lays on Dorian’s forehead is full of promise. And maybe, Dorian thinks as he finally succumbs to sleep, maybe he doesn’t have to just dream anymore.

onceupona-prompt:

types of kisses (part i)

  • wake up kisses pressed gently to the column of A’s neck or the underside of B’s jaw.
  • morning kisses; gentle and lazy, humming in contentment, limbs still tangled together, hands wandering over soft exposed skin.
  • stay in bed kisses, mischievous and deep, punctuating flirtatiously whispered bargaining words.
  • come back to bed kisses left on A’s neck and shoulder, unhurried and tender, with arms wrapped around A’s waist.
  • rushed late for work kisses, a flash of heat before hurrying out the door.
  • tender kisses when one brings home flowers for the other.
  • sticky ice cream kisses, sitting on a bench in the park and laughing against each other’s lips.
  • cheek kisses that leave red lipstick stains.
  • kisses absently left on the backs of hands, fingers entwined in silent comfort.
  • joyful kisses peppered across foreheads and cheeks between scattered giggles.
  • comforting kisses pressed to tear-stained cheeks between whispered words of reassurance and concern.
  • heated kisses with gasps in between, hands tugging at clothes and exploring skin, bodies pressed close. giving in.
  • long, slow kisses in the afterglow, fingers woven through hair and hearts beating in unison.
  • soft goodnight kisses exchanged on lamp-lit doorsteps on chilly autumn evenings.
  • a single loving kiss left on the other’s forehead when they fall asleep snuggled close together.

Going Up

icybluepenguin:

Note:  Inspired (loosely) by this confession: http://naughtylokiconfessions.tumblr.com/post/79721224981/i-dreamt-that-i-was-stuck-in-an-elevator-with-loki  It ended up really long, and not as sexy as I originally intended (there is smut, though!).  I haven’t written anything in a long time, so feedback is appreciated!

Next

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There wasn’t anyone else waiting for the elevator when I pressed the “up” button.  That was a little unusual- there were almost always a few other people going up, this was a busy building.  A door ding-ed and as I stepped into the elevator, a man rushed up behind me and slipped inside with me.  I glanced at him.  He certainly didn’t look like he’d been running for the elevator and there really hadn’t been anyone around a moment ago.

I smiled nervously at him.  “Thirty-seven?” I asked, reaching out to hit the buttons for both of us since I was closer.  I’d seen him around the building when I came for my appointments.  We seemed to end up in the same elevator often, although we’d never been alone like this.  Usually it was a crowded elevator but he’d manage to find a space near me and reach across or around me to hit the button for thirty-seven, brushing up against me as he did so.  In my more confident moments, I thought he was doing it on purpose, trying to let me know that he was interested in me.  But then I’d remember what he looked like and I would laugh at myself.  No, it had to be just a coincidence, he was far too good-looking to be into me.  But I would be lying if I said I hadn’t started dressing a little nicer on the days that I came here, though.  Just in case.

Keep reading

What was Sidni’s lowest moment? Like, her rock bottom.

(Sidni’s human is putting a trigger warning here for ABUSE and SUICIDE. Please proceed with caution.)

There was a moment … I thought I had learned enough to best him and that my anger could pull me through. I can’t remember what I did to cause the punishment. It could have been any number of things on that run. But I didn’t want to feel my father inflicting pain ever again. I was … tired. It was the first and last time I ever drew a blade against him.

I should have seen that he was toying with me. I should have known. When I drew blood several times in my attack, I thought I was close. And in a moment, it changed. And I realized he had never, ever taught me everything he knew. He purposefully held back so I would have a blind spot when it came to him. I don’t remember much, just that when it was over, I could not move. Every breath, every twitch, even opening my eyes hurt in a way I’d never felt before. And I had felt many types of pain.

The weakness that consumed me as I bled nearly overtook me. I wanted to die in that moment. It would have been easy to let go. To never suffer again. I wanted it, more than anything.

But then I thought of how he walked away from me, left me dying. I thought of all the scars he’d left on my body and how he’d done away with my mother. And all of the crimes he committed against others. I promised myself I would not die, not by his hand. I would see him suffer everything I had.

Question for Sidni: If you could do any other job, be anybody else in the world of Thedas, who would you choose to be?

That’s the greatest mystery of all, isn’t it? I think I would want to still be myself. I like to imagine without … certain people, I would be a better person. Someone deserving of good things.

I would like to travel and see the world still, but in a different light. Tell stories and bring people happiness. Perhaps a minstrel. Though I have a hard time imagining myself as someone without a knife in her hand. It’s only a dream.

Hi, Sidni, is there things you like to do by yourself that you don’t want other people to see?

I enjoy … I like to watch people. It sounds strange, but people are more honest when they think no one is watching. It gives me an idea of what makes them themselves. But my watching usually makes people nervous. So, I’d prefer no one knew. 

Sometimes it’s fun to watch and make up stories for them too. But that only happens when I’m bored.

riskfulings:

&. SOFT ANGST STARTERS.

  • “please look at me.”
  • “is s/he really just a friend?”
  • “i’m just disappointed.”
  • “you know i’m not like that.”
  • “don’t give me space. that’s the last thing i want with you.”
  • “i know you still love me.”
  • “i can’t think straight with you.”
  • “why are you so stubborn?”
  • “don’t do this here.”
  • “trust me on this.”
  • “please don’t misunderstand me.”
  • “you… you never had a problem with it before.”
  • “i know i shouldn’t be here.”
  • “what do you mean by that?”
  • “you deserve more.”
  • “can you just kiss me? one last time? that’s all i ask.”
  • “i’m scared.”
  • “i swear i’ll do things different this time.”
  • “s/he’s beautiful. i hope s/he makes you happy.”
  • “i want to believe you, i do.”
  • “not everyone is going to hurt you.”
  • “i’m… i’m trying. i really am.”
  • “i can’t sleep.”
  • “how long will this go on for?”
  • “can i hug you?”
  • “do you ever mean the things you say?”
  • “you won’t understand.”
  • “you’re making me think that what they told me about you was right.”
  • “am i too late?”

Gonna try some drabbles if y’all want. You can specify a ship or friendship or whatever you want.