#COME BACN

[luvymelody]

I NEED HIGH AND LOW MOOTS 😪 when i look for hnl fics and they’re BEAUTIFUL so i check what date they posted it and it was last year.

[blue-eyed-moon-child]

Every time rat finds a post to mass reblog, my phone goes ape shit BANANAS for like a good 10 minutes and I have to turn everything on silent until the 300 notifs finish making my phone glitch

[aengelren]

we’re beginning a social media cleanse and catching up on 6 months work of homework in a week, if you see..IF YOU SEE ME POST. you better remind me that my future is at stake this is not a drill

[brainrot-stitch]

CONVERGGENCE REBOOOT WHENNN!!?????!??!?!?!?!?!?@??!

[jihyo-x]

going thru my twice concert pics cuz I miss them I captured the most dubu of all time...

[bloodstainedveil]

ANDRE KRIEGMAN. HEADCANONS || ZERO DAY

andre kriegman as a boyfriend // a lil angst? // tw suggestive! // gn!reader // headcanons

andre kriegman, who believes it’s his job to take care of you. he’ll insist on driving you home, paying for your food when you’re out together, shoving his jacket in your arms when it’s cold. it’s not open for discussion—it’s just how he’s been raised.

andre kriegman, who gets embarrassed as hell when his parents say nice things about you. his father will make a comment in german, and andre will turn red, mumbling, “it’s nothing.” when you ask him what mr kriegman meant.

andre kriegman, who doesn’t handle arguments well. he’ll raise his voice, maybe slam his palm on the table in frustration, but he’ll never touch you—his anger is loud but always directed at himself or the situation, not you.

andre kriegman, who is totally an ass guy, oogling you shamelessly every time you’re wearing tight jeans.

andre kriegman, who isn’t big on initiating PDA but will kiss you on the cheek or hold your hand when he thinks no one’s watching.

andre kriegman, who doesn’t do flowers and sappy shit (except for valentine’s day or your anniversary) but will randomly bring you something practical—a pack of your favourite gum, a soda you like—because he remembers the things you’ve mentioned.

andre kriegman, who is pragmatic and always prepared. every time you hang out, he has breath mints or gum in his pocket. just in case you decide to kiss him.

andre kriegman, who takes you on “random” dates but secretly spends hours meticulously planning every detail, down to what route to drive so you guys can stay in the car for a bit longer.

andre kriegman, who drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, his thumb absently rubbing circles. he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it—it’s basically second nature by now.

andre kriegman, who always seems a little stiff when he’s shirtless, self-conscious of his bacne. but you’re quick to distract him by running your fingers through his hair or kissing along his happy trail, which he secretly loves even though he’d rather die than admit it.

andre kriegman, who gets jealous without realising it, his mood souring whenever mel the cat earns a kiss on the head that should’ve been his.

andre kriegman, who tries to balance his time between you and cal. heavy emphasis on “try”.

andre kriegman, who secretly thinks that you’re too good for him.

andre kriegman, who lies on his back in bed, alone, arms outstretched, holding his video camera. his room is pitch black, the only source of light coming from the flickering screen, showing shaky, grainy footage of you holding a beer, laughing with friends and talking about something trivial.

andre kriegman, who rewinds the part where you notice him filming, the way your eyes flicker toward the camera like a character breaking the fourth wall before you walk closer. the camera shakes as your face comes into view, the grainy footage catches a brief flash of your smile before the screen blurs—you hand batting his away, forcing andre to drop his arm. the camera spins wildly, the view distorting, and for a split second, everything is a chaotic blur.

andre kriegman, who watches in silence as the camera focuses on the kitchen floor, the lens catching nothing but the tiled surface. muffled catcalls and laughter echo from the background as you press your lips against his cheek.

andre kriegman, who has brief moments of doubt while watching these videos. his finger hovering between the “replay” and “delete” option, wondering if he’s making a mistake.

andre kriegman, who still videotapes you, but there’s something different in the way he frames the shots now.

andre kriegman, who starts zoning out more often. you’ll be talking about something random, and his eyes will glaze over, staring a hundred yards past you.

andre kriegman, who doesn’t mention your name once in the last tape he and cal film. he keeps his expression neutral, his tone matter-of-fact. because he refuses to drag you into the media shitstorm he knows will follow… the one scrap of kindness he can afford to give you.

andre kriegman, who drove by your house the night before zero day. he didn’t come in or anything, just looked up at your bedroom window from his car in silence.

andre kriegman, who doesn’t believe in happy endings but still hopes you get one, even if he knows he won’t be a part of it.

um not sure how i feel about this one.. sorry

[escapisttt]

tw for scab picking if that bothers you!! fellow scab pickers unite

sam who smells the blood when anyone in the pack picks their scabs and always heals it for them.

asher, sweetheart, and darlin’ are the usual suspects. and i use ‘suspects’ quite literally because they always try to hide it or just don’t say anything, instead wiping away any blood on their leg or sucking on the reopened scratch on their finger. angel is also a picker but they usually outright ask sam to heal them once they’ve started bleeding.

asher gets bacne and can often be seen with his hand under his shirt picking at his shoulders. baabe tries to get him to stop with a light kick to his leg but it only lasts for a few minutes. he’s been doing it since he hit puberty, it’s literally muscle memory. a comfort. but, when he sees little spots of blood on the back of his shirts, he cringes. sometimes when baabe is away in the bathroom or david is in the kitchen, sam is the one to finally elbow him. after taking his hand out of his shirt, ash looks over and sees the slight dilation in sam’s eyes. his gaze shifts down to the blood under his fingernail. oh. “oh! shit—i’m sorry buddy! you know, david bought a couple blood bags in case you get—” sam cuts him off. “i ain’t thirsty. just let me get that for you, the sound is killin’ me.” sam rolls his eyes and hovers his hand over asher’s back with a stern expectance. asher smiles, taking his shirt off with an affirmative nod. he usually gets the most shit from sam just because asher in general is a shit, but it all comes from a good place. after a few moments, asher’s scabs are gone. “wow! no more acne scarring! nice, man!”

sweetheart, of course, lives with their mate and his cat aggro. they’ve always been a cat person and was no stranger to their nature, which is why they never gave their cat scratches much attention. aggro is a feisty little guy just like his dad but it never deters sweetheart. they always ruffle his feathers with the toy laser or by trying to wrangle him in the tub. this all means that sweetheart’s poor hands, feet, legs, arms, you name it, are often patchy with shallow scratches. and they can’t help but pick at them, the perfectionist part of their brain urging them to make their skin level and smooth. but some scratches—usually the ones on their legs from when aggro will pop out from under the couch and latch onto them—are deeper than others. they like to sit with their knees tucked up or their legs criss-crossed; anything with their feet not on the floor, really. this gives them easy access to pick and peel at their leg scratches, occasionally furrowing their brows in concentration when they reach a scab that’s really embedded, their completionist mindset urging them to get it out. they don’t even realize that their fingertips are coated in a thin layer of blood until their grip becomes slippery. and, more recently, until sam notices. sweetheart and sam have a closer relationship with more respect and good humor between them—and, ever since the summit, a protectiveness. when sam get that metallic scent coming from them, he instantly knows what they’re doing and is more concerned than annoyed. he nudges them and gains their eye contact before wordlessly putting his hand on their shin, giving them a small, knowing smile. they chuckle and smile back, shaking their head in a silent, ‘oh, shut up.’

darlin’ thankfully doesn’t need the amount of healing they used to, but they still have their small moments. they get their small wounds when they go running in the woods in their wolf form. some forests in dahlia are denser than others, and their hulking wolf gets caught on a lot of branches and sharp tree bark. they never stop running though, since it’s their escape. what do a couple of scrapes compare to the feeling of total freedom? well, sam could tell them, has told them. still, darlin’ doesn’t mind these blemishes. at least they got them on their own terms. if sam had it his way, he’d heal the scabs as soon as he saw them, but darlin’ always throws the phrase, ‘i’m not bleeding, so it’s fine!’ in his face. sam thinks their stubbornness is both cute and dangerous for his health. but when they harshly scratch and peel at them, sam quickly has enough. he instantly picks up the scent of their familiar, mouthwatering liquid gold. he steels himself wherever they are, whether it be at milo’s house or the pack den, and gives them a steely look. they just roll their eyes at being caught and plop their leg or arm in his lap, whichever is bleeding at the time. though they might try, they aren’t as sneaky as they think. his warm magic is swift and pleasant, making darlin’s eyes droop a bit. as if they needed another push to fall asleep during a pack meeting.

and angel the icon instantly runs over to sam to get the smallest cut fixed. annoying hangnail? “sam!” scratch from aggro? “sam!” a shoe rubbing them the wrong way on the back of their achilles? “sam!” you get it lmfao they ain’t shy.

did i fr just make an entire ramble post because i was picking at a scab on my leg? yeah so what.

[biscuitdolly]

hello! luv ur blog! tips r very useful! may i ask 4 any brand recommendations when it comes to body care pls? ty 4 ur time!

body care recommendations ౨ৎ

so sorry for the lack of posts! taking some time for myself because i slipped out of a routine, tryna get back on track ♡

i use a lot of things for body care, but here are my favourites!

O1 , dermaveen

as someone who suffers from eczema, dermaveen helps me sm! i love their lotion and unscented soap! they never flare up my skin, break me out or anything of the sort! i especially love their lotion after shaving , which i usually use in par with a scented one !!

O2 , philosophy

philosophy has the sweetest smelling body washes ever! my favourite is birthday cake !! super sugary sweet and leaves my smelling good and feeling fresh!

O3 , frank body

their sugar scrub is the best exfoliator i've ever used! gets rid of all the dead skin, and leaves my skin silky smooth! i use it before shaving for the best effect!

i also love their clearing body wash! it helped sm with my bacne ♡

O4 , sundae body

SUNDAE BODY UGHH ♡♡♡ my personal favourite whips of theirs are 'very vanilla' and 'cherry on top' !! the scent lasts SO LONG and it has such fun cute packaging !! i always get compliments that i smell good even if i'm not wearing perfume !!

O5 , miss dior body milk

not necessarily a brand more a single product,, but god this stuff smells good! leaves me smelling elegant and is super moisturizing but without the sticky feeling after!

hope this helps!!

[richeeduvie]

You know who else would be a Yankees fan… Kendall. I think the universe is asking you to write a little thing where he brings Baby to a game but Roman insists on coming along back in the groomer days. Although I can’t imagine Roman enjoying baseball much.

PLAY BALL

-------- When you and Roman were younger --------

"You should be playing with my balls right now."

Kendall's head snaps towards Roman, the boy who's red and in between the both of you. The crowd roars.

"Hey. Not with me. Why did you come if you're gonna fuck-fucking act like you're in quip city before an idiot?"

"...Because I don't want you touching her-"

"What the fuck are you talking about-"

"You guys, he's walking. Steve Adkins is walking."

Roman doesn't blink when he puts focus to the field. "Yep...he is indeed putting his foot in front of the other. Astute observation."

You punch his shoulder.

"Fuck!"

"They let him walk to first base."

You didn't think this is how you'd be spending your Saturday. But...you've been getting into baseball. Or more so you came into slight interest a month ago and Kendall caught you buying a book on plays in the 50s and you didn't know he knew so much about baseball. It became a place where you and him had another thing in common.

You can't deny Roman's sudden hatred for baseball and you and Kendall couldn't stop him from coming to this game.

Roman slumps, resting his head on your shoulder.

"No, not walk. No way that was purposeful, with the way this inning is fucking going. Are they stupid?"

"It's the Mariners, yeah."

Kendall turns, smiling to meet yours.

Roman looks as if a cat's vomited on his shoes.

"I'm getting bacne."

"Gross, man."

"You're attempt at a mustache is disgusting."

"I'm getting bacne too."

Roman nuzzles in. "Ew." He scrunches his nose up, you're ready for the rest of the game to be more of his complaining.

"...That's summer for you. Just heat ruining...aesthetic. C'mon! Let's fucking go!"

Kendall's indulging Roman, leaning in before standing to sit next to you.

"You see, that guy? He's gonna want to purposefully walk Kev-"

Crash. He falls forward, stumbles. You try your hardest to not feel embarrassed for him.

"What the fuck, man?"

"Roman. Seriously."

Kendall almost ate it with his brother, your boy tripping the shit out of him. Jesus. You flick his ear.

"Just watch the game!"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm just gonna sit next to her so I can talk about what we're watching. Because that's why we're here, man. Just cool it with the heat-stroke idiocy."

Roman turns to you.

"Is there like...any, any? Particular reason that you've kinda taken to watching sweaty men with fat asses jiggle their way through playing tag? And also, it's somehow so boring. Your infidelity is so boring."

Kendall stares down at the both of you.

You just wanna watch Steve Adkins try and make it to second.

You slump.

"Infidelity?

Roman blinks up at his brother. You slump further.

"Yeah. Don't question it like it's new-why are you trying to hide? Are you ashamed at the fucking obvious because you're about to flash your tits to the dugout?"

"Oh, so you know what a dugout is."

"Kendall?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off." Roman rubs his face on your shoulder, his hair falls over. "Just...teach me so it can be a little less boring."

Your heart stumbles, your excitement is embarrassing - he wants to learn and you can teach him...Roman actually wants to listen. Willing in your interests.

You don't know you're perking up.

"Okay, so-"

"You don't have to make this game easier for him. He can like...stay bored. You should stay bored, bro. You kind of practically begged to come-"

There's a clack before everyone around you goes wild.

"Are you kidding me!"

In all of it, you'd missed Kevin Maas's homerun. In your anger, you're missing Roman's smile and indulging his nuzzles. Kendall sits back down, slowly and heavy.

[rileyh20]

Massive tw for eating disorders, specticily forms of beleumia.

_______________________________________

I've always kinda of seen pony, if anything, having beluima. I've always imagines soda being naturally skinny, really good matabouslism, and Darry used to be slim due to all his working out before he got muscles. Pony didn't have as good as one, being 12 St the time, and self conscious as fuck.

Mrs Curtis couldn't care less, in there eyes all three of her babies where perfect, same with Mr Curtis, they loved them.

So they didn't mind when Pony started to work out.

Which turned into a 20 minute run everyday.

Which turned into a 30 minute run every day

Which turned into an hour run everyday

Which turned into a 2 hour run everyday.

Which turned into three hours.

Which eating slightly Less turned into “im not hungry mommy.”

Which turned into vomiting everytime he ate.

Which turned into working out out every night to a point it kept Darry awake.

Which turned into soda being confused of why the bathroom smells like vomit.

Which turned into Darry worried why his baby brother never seemed to eat anything no more.

Which turned into soda being confused about the sudden binge eating.

All of which concerns made it bacn to Mrs Curtis.

Which ended in a “Pony come here. Me and your brothers wanna talk about something real quick.”

I NEED UR THOIGHTS AND IDEAS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Also 12 year old pony, 15 soda, 18 Darry.

Screaming because AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Screaming because what if Ponyboy didn't even realize he was being destructive to himself

Screaming because of the massive cuddle pile they would have after the coversation

Screaming because of the way Sodapop would hug Ponyboy tighter after their parents death if he starts thinking Ponyboy's starting to do it again

Screaming because Ponyboy would just run for hours and zone out, even staying zoned out while he threw up in a bush and kept on running, screaming because he WOULDN'T EVEN REALIZE-

(Also screaming because I have yet to hear Mr. Curtis in this whole thing)

[nope-v1an]

Enemy to Lover

Black Goku × F Reader

_____________________________________________

HAIIII! this is my first post so thank you for reading it!if you can request others fanfic with other characters even smut!

Warnings : CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT

/Comfort/Mention of SEXUAL HARASSMENT/

_______________________________________

A song that fits the story - ♪

_______________________________________

• Black Goku is secretly overproctective

• Black Goku gets annoyed easily

• Black Goku is pretty rich

____________________________________________

( You and Black Goku were childhood enemies since he stole your favourite candy..but your mothers were great friends. Your mother had to go on a business trip, leaving you alone for a few days. But she didn't want that, so decided that you'd be staying at Black Goku's home.

Now you were there, standing in his house. You already knew this was going to be like hell, and even more like hell when his mother explained that the guest room was under maintenance, meaning you had to share a room with Black Goku..and one only single bed..)

Black Goku was frustrated walking in circles as he complained about how he will never share a bed with you even less in his bed..

Y/n looked at him annoyed as she sat on the bed,he says coldly sending chills down your spine « To be clear.No.. way i am sleeping in the same bed as you..Okay?!»

Y/n rolled her eyes and says annoyed «Like if i wanted to sleep with you?Who do you think you are?Some celebrity..? Come on,cut the act already,Jerk!»

Black Goku glared at Y/n as she called him a jerk,he walked closer to her holding her shoulders as he towered over her with his 6th feet muscular body, pinching the bridge of his nose he says irritated «Don't play with me brat,i ain't your mate,I have never hurt a woman but they have a first time for everything right, Princess ?»

Y/n frowned, pushing him away from her and said «Princess?..who do you think i am?You can be a jerk if you like but i am not your girl.»

Black Goku ran his hand through his messy dark hair looking somehow embarrassed when she referred to him as a jerk which was very unusual of him,he said stuttering «What..No?!.i am not like that i swear!»

Y/n says 'Just forget it,go to sleep.. goodnight' covering herself in the bed sheets,Black Goku mumbles «Leave me some space on the bed though..»

Y/n yawn as the room started to get cold she says «It's freezing..» curl up

Black Goku pulled closer as he spooned her and whispered «It's only because you are cold..nothing else..just stay close to me,Y/n..»

Y/n nods as she fell asleep,Black Goku stayed awake admiring her as he played with her hair,cuddling closer burying his head in her neck as he falls asleep

A new day began as Y/n woke up and ate breakfast, watching the television but she got bored and decided to head bacn to the bedroom

Y/n went back in the room but didn't found Black Goku so she decided to start looking for Black Goku,suddenly Black Goku came out of the bedroom's bathroom,a towel wrapped around his waist as he dried his wet hair with a second towel,he looked stunning his muscular tattooed body dripping with water,Black Goku looks at Y/n suprised,covering his chest but was still bold enough to says in a snarky tone «Enjoying the view,Doll?»

Y/n yelled at him to cover himself as Black Goku walks back to the bathroom ignoring her scoldings

25 minutes later Black Goku came back this time fully dressed as he looked at Y/n and says «Satisfied ?»

Y/n says annoyed «Pretty much.»

Black Goku says « We are going to the mall »

Y/n says suprised « We?You want me to come with you?no way.»

Black Goku says « It wasn't a proposition,we are going. » as he grabs Y/n's wrist and starts walking towards the door

Y/n says annoyed «Slow down idiot!»

Black Goku sighs and stops walking to listen to Y/n

Y/n says «Why so sudden ?»

Black Goku says « Mh,i don't know maybe because you only have two spare clothes.»

Y/n says confused « So you are telling me, you're going to buy me clothes ?»

Black Goku says «Pretty much.. also you better cover up it's cold outside put a hoodie or something i don't really care.» as he points out Y/n's shirt

Y/n says «I don't have anything else to wear and i-»

Black Goku cuts her off and said «Take my coat,i don't want you to be sick..»

as he removed his coat, throwing it onto Y/n

Y/n catches it and says «Thanks..i guess?» as she put the coat on,the coat was a little big but still fitted perfectly on her body

Black Goku mumbles quietly «Better with my coat..kinda cute» before starting to slightly blush,he sighs trying to calm down as he says «Let's go now, mhhh?»

Y/n says «Yep, let's go»

They started walking towards the bus stop,they arrived at the bus stop waiting around 13 minutes before the bus arrived, Finally they got in the bus which was pretty much filled

Black Goku leans on the bus's walls holding a metal pole to keep his balance,he keeps an eye on Y/n pulling her closer to him

Their body touching,Y/n could feel his breath

Y/n whispers «Could you stop breathing in my fucking neck you moron..?»

Black Goku rolled his eyes and whispered sarcastically «Yeah yeah whatever,Princess.»

After 27 minutes,they arrived at their stop as they were walking to the mall

Black Goku says «You know you can't hold a grudge against me for what happened in Primary school»

Y/n says «Ugh..I ain't holding a grudge, it's just you didn't have to fucking steal my favorite candy»

Black Goku stands in the way of Y/n before saying «You are such a liar,you are literally sulking right now..come on forgive me already!»

Y/n frown before saying «No and no,end of the discussion!»

Black Goku sighed

Y/n says «Okay,okay i will try.»

Black Goku smiled very slightly as he said «It took you a century to finally try..»

Y/n says «Don't make me go back on my words.»

Black Goku says «Okay, Princess»

Y/n glares at him and says «No nicknames»

Black Goku nods

Finally they arrived at the mall and entered the clothing shop

Black Goku says «What do you want to start with ?»

Y/n thought and says «Hoodies?so I won't have to wear your coat-»

Black Goku cuts her off and says «No..you will keep my coat on your body,got it?»

Y/n was left slightly surprised and says «Mhh,okay got it so why not some pants!» Black Goku nodded

They continued shopping and finally went home after Y/n bought 2 pants and 4 T-shirts,they ate and were watching the television

Y/n yawns

Black Goku says «Tired?let's get to sleep.»

Y/n says «Yeah pretty much,right now?okay!»

Black Goku says jokingly «Of course right now dumbass.»

They lay in the bed as Black Goku covered themselves with the blanket,he turned to the side and said «Goodnight,Princess»

Near 4am,Y/n woke up due to a terrifying nightmare,her eyes started tearing up as she sob,her body slightly trembling and sweating from fear

Black Goku woke up slowly as he heard the sobs,he looked at Y/n worried and says «Why are you crying..? come here»

Y/n came closer to him as Black Goku hugged her and whispered «Did you have a bad dream?you are all sweaty..need water?»

Y/n nods

Black Goku got up and went to grab a bottle of water, after some seconds he came back and gave the water to Y/n

Y/n drank the water and sighed

Black Goku says worried « Do you want to talk about it or..maybe some..uhm..cuddle?»

Y/n says «Cuddle..only for today though..»

Black Goku caresses her back as she sobs on his chest,his arm slowly wrapping around her waist as she puts her head on his neck, calming down as she finally falls asleep

Black Goku smells her soft fragrance as he continues caressing her back with one arm and holding her waist with the other,he was oddly enjoying the closeness with his 'childhood enemy'

A new day started and Y/n was excited

Black Goku says «What are you all excited for?»

Y/n says «So basically there's going to have a huge party downtown I'm really down for it!»

Black Goku says «Would they have..any man?»

Y/n says «Of course dumbass,i-»

Black Goku cuts her off and says « I am coming with you..what if you are drunk or some random person comes and disturbs you.!»

Y/n says «I mean you are pretty right.. okay some company wouldn't hurt!»

The evening

Y/n got dressed up and wore that gorgeous red silk dress,it hugged her curves with a V-shaped neckline

Black Goku says in a worried but possessive manner «Take my coat, I don't want any guys to look at you with lust or anything like this.» as he gave her his coat for the second time

Y/n says «But it will ruin my fit-»

Black Goku cuts her off and says coldly «And?I don't fucking care, nobody can look at your body except me.»

Y/n says annoyed «It's my body,i decides who look at my body not you.»

Black Goku says in a jealous manner getting a lil pissed off «Y/n. if anyone put their filthy eyes on your body,i swear i will fucking beat them to death.»

Y/n says worried «Haha..funny joke»

Black Goku smiled and said « I ain't joking with that,i will break their legs.»

Y/n says «..okay i will wear that jacket»

At the party,Y/n got drunk while Black Goku kept watching her like some bodyguard but he had to left because she asked him a new drink some guy came to Y/n while Black Goku went to get her a new drink

The guy was flirting with her as he played with thighs making her very uncomfortable,some panic setting inside of her as she started trying to push him back but with her drunken state it was no use,her eyes started to tear up as she realised she was defenceless.

Suddenly someone brutally yanked the guy's collar almost tearing it,it was Black Goku

Black Goku yelled totally pissed off,his knuckles clenching so tight it started turning as white as a ghost «Get the fuck away from my girl,Y/N go wait in my car,i am coming back i am going to deal with him..» as he gave her her drink and dragged the guy to some unknown place

Y/n went to the car as she waited for Black Goku,sipping on her drink a little worried

After 17 minutes,Black Goku came back,his clothes painted with blood splatters,some blood splatter on his face,he looked totally berserk.

Y/n was terrified at this sight,she says worried «What did you do to that guy...»

Black Goku smirked and said «Just what i told you i would do to anyone who laid an eye on you..i broke his pathetic hands who dared touch you»

Y/n says stuttering «Why would you do that for me..?»

Black Goku says «I didn't do that for you..»

Y/n says confused «Then who?»

Black Goku started to blush «.. nobody»

Y/n says «Nobody?..if you say so..» and started opening her phone

Black Goku stopped her by holding her wrist and said nervously «I love you, it's hard to admire but i love you. »

Y/n paused for a second « You love..me?»

Black Goku nodded before saying « I kept stealing your candy because i wanted you to pay attention to me.. since elementary school. »

Y/n lean closer,their eyes locked in

Y/n says «Really.?»

Black Goku says «Do you..love me too?»

Y/n says «Kinda..»

Black Goku looked at Y/n lips tempted before saying «could i?»

Y/n nods shyly

Black Goku grabbed the back of Y/n's neck slowly pulling her closer as he kissed her, deeply..and passionately

END :3

[lehguru]

SWEET BOI + USOPP

just pure sweet fluff with usopp

info: i wrote out some general cute hcs i have about him, but also some stuff x reader! this was a request — ko-fi

usopp owns a bunch of plushies. it's not any plushie that enters his collection, though; he owns a plushie for every single crew member. a monkey for luffy, a tiger for zoro, a sheep for sanji, etc. once a week, he chooses one plushie to follow him on his daily activities—he closes his eyes and shoots randomly at the plushies, the one that gets hit he picks up to be his helper.

his skin often breaks out; with the help of nami and robin he slowly managed to keep it under control, but his back is filled with small bacne scars mixed with his bigger "battle" scars. he is not ashamed of it, instead, he thinks positively about it—"it's beautiful! it's normal for a honored warrior like me to have scars!"

surprisingly, he has a very good intuition when it comes to flowers. he knows which ones are someone's favorite just by talking for some minutes with them. not only that, but he also picks the best bouquets; the flowers he choses always smell and look so gorgeous, they cheer up anyone.

he is able to memorize the small things and will bring it up or use it if he has to. you say you would like to receive home-made chocolates one day, two months later he is giving you a box full of them. your favorite kind of clothing? he knows and brings you things to try on. your door is not closing that well and he heard it while you were talking to someone else? consider it fixed.

while he is not the best at cooking, he would love to learn your favorite food (even more if they mean a lot for you/are part of your culture). he thinks that the little moments you two spend together, trying the recipes and talking about each dish is more than special and he cherishes it so much—he also loves to eat it afterwards, of course.

2024 © content belongs to lehguru, do not repost, translate or feed it into ai without permission

[ac3-76]

Ninjago Headcannons (pt.2)

warnings: none🦐

Nyas the big spoon and Jay's the little spoon

Zane has Nya taste test all of the food he makes because he values her opinion the most(aside from Pixal, who cannot eat)

Dareth is a hard core stoner and always smells like weed

Kai has a really extensive skin/body/hair care routine

He'll be in the bathroom for 2 hours on Wednesday and Sunday(his everything shower days) doing skincare, haircare, and body care

He also has one of those skin care headbands to stop his hair from getting in his face while he does his skincare

he also has the scrunchi bracelets to stop water from rolling down his arms when he washes his face

Zane likes those test ur intuition videos on tiktok

Coles a firm believer that you have to try something before you say you don't like it

Jay can't handle spicy food

Jay thinks Takis are spicy

Despite being good with technology, Zane's usually the last one the ninjas go to if they need help with something techy

Kai doesn't like chips, any of them- Takis, lays, cheetos, dorittos, onion rings, not even chicharrones de harina

(Chicharrones are a type of Mexican chips shaped like wheels, usually served with lime juice and some sort of spice mix or sauce)

Nya puts tajín on everything

(for those who don't know what tajín is, it's a seasoning that originates in Mexico. I think it's more salty than spicy but it's really good on fruit)

Cole saw Kai putting chamoy sauce on a slice of chocolate cake once, and since Cole believes in trying things he tried it

He actually really liked it and now puts chamoy sauce on his chocolate cake most of the time

Nya journals and scrapbooks as a hobby

Jays favorite shape of ice is sphere ice

according to him it tastes better when he chews/sucks on it

Nya likes to do those little hair wraps with embroidery string

Nya really wanted to be a girl scout when she was a kid, but never could because money was tight

Jay's allergic to shellfish

They all watch The Real Housewives of Ninjago together

Zane and Lloyd come up with the best code names for people the ninjas talk about a lot

Nya is a pilates girly

She dragged Jay and Kai to a class with her once

Jay struggled and decided he didn't like it but Kai still goes with her sometimes

Cole has bacne

Since Kai's the skincare guru Cole went to him for help

Kai spent an hour searching the internet for a well reviewed bacne wash

He didn't like any of them and just bought Cole the type of face wash he uses and told Cole to wash his back with it

Kai also spent a good amount of time looking for good creams and ointments for Cole to use

But Cole couldn't reach his back to wash it and apply the ointments and creams, so now Kai spends 10 or 15 minutes a day helping Cole with his bacne routine

Lloyd is freakishly flexible

Zane is not flexible at all

[coeluvr]

“As he continues to stroke your back, his voice emerges like a velvety whisper against your ear. ‘You’re doing well,’ he murmurs. ‘If you manage to control yourself I will let you have a little taste, doesn’t that sound nice?’”

GEHEEHE SOUNDS MORE THAN NICE 😝😝 I LOVE COMING BACN THE THE SIDE STORIES BC IT FEEDS US THE CRUMBS WE NEED TO KEEP GOING.

I get so embarrassed when people remind me I wrote those LMAO the day nsfw scenes appear in the game I will crumble to dust. 😭

Halloween shorts were so fun though because it was just an excuse to write them being sluts... sorry MC for making you feral. 🤭

[jinmukangwrites]

Handcuffed/Manacled

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

Rating: M

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Tags: Self-Sacrificing Dick Grayson, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt Tim Drake, Tim Drake Whump, Dick Grayson Whump, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Blood and Injury, Dick Grayson-centric, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Hostage Situations, Near Death Experiences, Protective Tim Drake

Ao3

Summary: What started as a quiet night quickly turned sour when Tim's comms cut off without warning.

----

"I think I have a pimple on my chin, and I'm about to get violent about it."

Dick laughed, swinging under a fire-escape—it creaked, but he had swung under this particular fire-escape enough times to know it could hold his weight.

At the other end of the comms, Tim sounded bored. Well, he must be bored if breakouts, and not the fun jail kind, had suddenly become the topic of conversation.

"It'll get better when you're older," Dick replied, smirking to himself, his eyes scanning the regular shady alleyways of Blüdhaven as his grapple retracted, then shot off to the next practiced ledge with a jolt down his arm. It looked like it would be a quiet night tonight, not a crime worth punishing to be seen.

"I'm literally almost 20, N," Tim replied, deadpanned. "Also you can't talk. I'm pretty sure you've never had a pimple in your life."

"Not on my face, not really," Dick agreed. He could hear Tim's weight land heavily on puddled Gotham streets through the other end of the comm. Seemed like he, too, was having a slow night. "But bacne? Whoah-boy. Pretty sure I have one right below my left shoulder-blade, it's driving me nuts."

"You said it gets better when you're older."

"I'm still young."

Tim snorted. Despite the empty streets being the only one to see it, Dick grinned.

"You literally asked me what gyatt meant the other day."

"In my defense, I said I'm young, not that I'm twelve. Believe it or not, I'm also not terminally on TikTok."

Tim laughed, and Dick followed.

It wasn't often he could just hang out like this. Somebody was always busy, or somebody didn't have the social battery, or was getting over an argument, or was doing something with someone else, or there was a storm over Gotham and the connection didn't hold despite the constant fixes Barbara made to the system, bless her. Honestly, when he contacted Tim, the response "yeah I'm free" was a very pleasant surprise, especially after he'd just gotten a "not tonight" from Cassandra a few minutes before.

"So, how's it going on your end?" Dick asked. He let the swing of his grapple slow as the ground came up. He took a few running steps, carefully bending his knees, coming to a stop on solid ground as the grapple fully retracted into his escrima stick. He attached the useful weapon on his back next to its pair.

Tim sighed. "Is it bad I'm almost hoping someone's getting mugged with every empty alleyway I check?"

"Probably," Dick responded lightly, "but also, same."

"Of course I don't want anyone getting hurt, you know? But like, maybe just a little bit of threatening? Some yelling? Some asshole with too much ego needing to be knocked down a peg? I'm itching to kick someone in the face and I don't think that's something people should itch to do."

"Trust me," Dick responded, "I think I'd rather hear gimme all your money than you won the lottery right now."

Hindsight had Dick wishing he had some wood to knock on.

Tim started to ramble about how the most interesting thing he'd seen that night was a cat messing with a rat outside a doughnut shop, and Dick was strolling the quiet streets, a city away, a thirty minute drive at midnight, listening with a smile. It could have continued like this the rest of the night, and he would have been content. He would have said goodbye to Tim, stumbled into his apartment, did some stretches, ate a toaster strudel, then gone to bed happy. Bored, but happy. Glad no one needed saving, Nightwing wasn't a factor in life or death, he could rest, knowing the quiet nights were rare and precious.

Tim cut off in the middle of his ramblings, and tonight wasn't rare or precious.

"Red Robin?"

"I heard something. Just a sec."

He was whispering, voice tight, Dick could almost imagine the narrowed eyes behind white domino lenses.

Warm pressure washed over him, the physical feeling of a happy moment turning stale, starting at his ears, settling threateningly in his stomach.

Nearly a minute passed, Dick had to remind himself to breathe during it.

"Huh," Tim said, finally, voice shaken a little. "I could have sworn I-"

Static.

Dick was on the emergency channels before his heartbeat could finish its first stutter.

"Oracle," Dick said, "I've lost contact with Red Robin."

-o0o-

And that was how the nightmare started.

The last time he sped this quickly across the distance spreading between Blüdhaven and Gotham—often times too small, at times like this, too long—was when Damian had fainted at school. Nothing serious, apparently he had forgotten to eat and it was a hot day.

This was serious. Bab's was able to report Tim's vitals spiking, then slowing into unconsciousness mere seconds before any signal between Tim and the family cut off.

Every bat in the city scrambled. A fine oiled machine, like students practicing drills for school invaders; a machine that shouldn't have to be this oiled.

Dick took the west, ignoring how his ankles ached and his back ached and his jaw ached. Fingers creaked, ribs squeezed, stomach clenched. The sun would rise soon. Maybe a citizen or two would wake up for work and see a bat out and be baffled by it for a moment, then wonder if it's a sort of bunker down and call out kind of day.

He followed Tim's footsteps, checking alleyways, passing the doughnut shop with a rat corpse in the gutter, looking up at the pipes and gargoyles that had scratches from grappling hooks, some fresh, some very not.

The sun rose. It hung in the sky. It set.

Nothing.

He needed to eat. Everyone needed to eat. Damian was the only one resembling someone who could stand on their own two feet and it wasn't from a lack of caring but more from a responsible butler forcing the kid to go to school. Damian wasn't happy about that, the family had to move to a different channel while Damian argued over the comms for a solid 30 minutes.

Dick kept returning to the alleyway Tim's last location had pinged from, like if he looked again, Tim would be there that time. He was exhausted, to put it plainly. He was tired to the core, from the lack of sleep, and from once again, fearing for the life of a younger sibling. His eyes desperately wanted to close, but he knew that if he stopped looking even for a second, he'd see Jason's grave, feel Damian's blood, hear the silence coming from Stephanie's empty chair.

Not Tim. Not Tim too. Not Tim again.

Can't the universe let him catch a break? Or, at least, let it be him instead?

A grim thought. He had to keep looking.

There wasn't any sign of a struggle. No Red Robin branded weapons stuck in the brick walls, no dented dumpsters, not a single speck of blood. It was like Tim was kidnapped by the fabric of reality itself; glitched and removed, plucked out of thin air.

The irony and deja vu wasn't lost on him.

He sighed to himself, searching around the alleyway, poking at the same clueless details until maybe his fingers would leave indents in concrete.

Something blinked. Faint. Red. Rolled under a dumpster, near unnoticeable.

Dick noticed it. His blood ran cold.

He could hear Alfred get on the comms, demanding everyone return home for dinner before they do Tim no good by letting exhaustion win, but he ignored it for a second as he crept to the dumpster, reaching his hand under to pull out a small device no larger than the tip of his pointer finger.

Tim's comm.

He'd checked under the dumpster before. Several times. This wasn't there before.

It had to have been returned here. Purposely.

It was blinking like it was connected to something, which was impossible because Oracle said the signal was completely disconnected, and only she could connect it back to the family again.

He took out his own comm, wiped off alleyway water from Tim's, then replaced it in his ear.

"Is anyone there?" Dick asked, not knowing if he wanted an answer.

A second passed, he felt like he'd throw up.

A shaking voice responded. "N, go to these coordinates. Come alone, or he's going to kill me."

-o0o-

Dick went alone. He was instructed to keep on the earpiece, and that the kidnapper would know if he muted to warn the others.

The coordinates lead him to no special location at all. A thirty minute walk from where Tim had initially disappeared, a nook under the freeway where flood water could drain.

Not a soul awaited him there.

A blue backpack, abandoned—no, purposely placed—awaited him there.

Nothing was good about this. Tim had sounded weak and frightened to his trained ears, brave to anyone else. Dick felt like getting stabbed would hurt less than this.

He didn't care. He didn't know what else to do.

Tim had long since stopped responding to Dick after giving the initial instructions—the comm was mostly for the kidnapper to keep Dick under control—but he didn't need instructions to know that whatever happened next involved that blue bag.

He stepped up to it, hands long past the point of shaking that they're deathly stable as he unzipped it.

A device about the size of a pen greeted him. Thin, sleek, nothing special besides the tip being a very threatening button the size of a push pin.

"Gloves off," Tim whispered. "I- Nightwing- don't do it- I'm-" he cut off with a shout. The line went silent.

Dick didn't hesitate to take his gloves off and press the button.

Two things happened. The first was quicker, while the second was more physical.

The earpiece shorted out, and anything powered on Dick's body—his removed comm, his tracker, the sensors to his vitals, even the batteries to his escrima sticks—went completely dead.

He had just a millisecond to process that before nausea washed over with a prick to his thumb.

His vision swam, and he collapsed, black consuming him before he hit the ground.

-o0o-

"Just my luck," A modulated voice said exactly as Dick found himself waking up enough to comprehend words being said to him, "I've always wanted to meet Nightwing."

His arms were behind his back, wrists locked with tight bands of cuffed metal. Gravity told him he was sitting up, spine slumped against a wall, but sharp tugs in his hair told him that a hand clutched the strands, holding his neck up. He knew before he opened his eyes that the face of the speaker would greet him.

Or well, the helmeted face. Close enough.

Dick glared through the grogginess of fading unknown drugs. His face felt numb, tongue heavy, but the movement at least assured him that there was still pressure over his eyes.

The attacker regarded him back, faceless, unmoving, as if waiting for Dick to make the first move.

Dick didn't have a lot of options in terms of first moves.

So he took the moment to get a better grasp of the situation. He had a lot of practice with this kind of situation, it didn't take long to assess himself, the villain of the week, and the surrounding room.

He, himself, was fine. A little woozy from whatever drug was shot into his system, but it was fading with only slight lingering feelings of nausea, numbness, and weakness to the extremities. His hands were pressed between his back and the wall, his shoulder blades touching the faded wallpaper, making it clear his weapons had been removed. Other places that held weapons and tools were suspiciously light.

The person in front of him had a large, muscular build, in-between the range of Jason to Slade. Tall, closer to seven feet than six, combat boots, armored fabric suit, a gun strapped to a thigh the size of a basketball. The suit was nondescript, black, with the occasional gray accent, the armored fabric mixing with armored plates where organs are concerned. The helmet was nothing more than a glorified biker-helmet that wanted to look sci-fi.

All signs pointed to human and male, though meta wasn't ruled out yet. All Dick knew for sure was that this wasn't a run of the mill criminal; maybe something closer to a bounty hunter, or assassin, or some disgruntled asshole with a vendetta and actual knowledge of how to carry that vendetta out. Truly, the Slade vibes were strong with this one.

Dick couldn't see any other weapons on the attackers body, but granted, he was sitting on his ass against a withering wallpapered wall, head held up by a fist of hair, a helmeted figure crouched down staring back.

Behind the figure, however, was where Dick's eyes settled. The room was small, a hundred square feet give or take, comprised of cement floor, walls water-rotted and peeling, a door chipped and unkept. Between Dick and the door, however, was a collapsed body, dressed in familiar colors, cape tattered and clothes twisted.

Tim.

He laid curled on his side, hair waterfalling over an exhausted face. His arms were wrenched behind his back, no doubt restrained. What made Dick's gut squirm was the trail of blood dripping down an obviously broken nose, over Tim's tight lips, down his cheeks, puddled on the ground.

Fresh.

Dick's face must have done something with that observation, because his captor chuckled and turned their visor at Tim. "Poor boy needed come company."

Even modulated, the extra words allowed Dick to pinpoint the accent as American, West Coast. Not necessarily useful information, but hey, accents sometimes identified.

Dick tore his eyes away from Tim and clenched his fists tight enough the cuffs dug into his tendons.

"What do you want, you bastard."

An amused huff. "Nothing you can give me. I have you right where I need you."

"Why here? Why us?"

"The boy happened to be the first one I saw. You happened to be the first one to find my next trap. This isn't personal, bat."

Frustration pooled. "If you think this will get you Batman, or-"

The man laughed, letting go of Dick's hair and standing up. "Batman isn't my goal. I just need you here."

This can't be good. A villain wanting to get at Batman is one thing, a villain not caring about Batman is another.

Why capture them if not to interrogate them?

The man stepped away from Dick, and Dick felt his whole body tense as he stopped above Tim's prone form. Tim swallowed, then glared up at their captor.

Then their captor, with no warning, lifted a leg and nailed Tim in the stomach.

Tim choked off a breathless scream, and Dick found himself on his feet in the next moment. His vision, however, jolted, and his legs twisted around each other, tripping him up and having him crumple disgracefully to the hard floor with an irritated growl. Damn side effects of damn drugs.

Their captor chuckled, amused, and stepped over to Dick while Tim coughed for breath. A large hand wrapped around Dick's bicep then dragged him back to the other side of the room. Instead of just leaving him there, however, his hands were pushed down to the floor and the chain between his cuffs were locked onto something solid and unmoving. Some sort of bolt.

"Don't worry, it'll be over soon," The man said, stepping away from Dick, sounding full of himself and confident. The prick. "Play nice, and you both will get out of this alive."

Then, he left, stepping over Tim and leaving out the door, a lock sounding in his wake.

"Red," Dick called, the moment they were alone. "Hey, look at me."

Tim, his expression more out of it than what Dick's seen in years, turned his face toward Dick. "N... 'm sorry."

What had that monster done to Tim?

"No sorry," Dick said, forcing his voice to remain calm as he ran another scan along Tim's body. Nothing visibly violent greeted him back, nothing but the broken nose. Perhaps everything else was hidden under his suit, and perhaps the cocktail of a weak immune system, drugs, and captivity, didn't mix well. "I'm here now. Talk to me, what happened before I got here?"

Tim took a deep breath, stealing his expression and shifting slightly. "I- not much. He kicked me around a bit, only took me out of the room once to use the bathroom—blindfolded. Then he told me to... tell you to find his trap."

"Nothing about his goals? No questions or anything?"

Tim shook his head, then winced, spitting some blood from his lips. "Nothing explicitly said. I... think he has a partner outside, and I think we're just distractions."

"For what?"

Tim shrugged with the shoulder he wasn't laying on, looking frustrated and tired. At least the more he talked, the more awake he started to look. "It's a good plan if we are just distractions. When was the last time you slept?"

Ouch.

"I don't think anyone's slept," Dick responded softly, feeling like an idiot for being so predictable. If a distraction was the goal, then them both being captured will run the whole family down to the bones, cause them to lock up inwards and assume another will be next, focus in on the areas they disappeared from.

It could leave any number of targets around Gotham completely ignored.

"At least," Tim continued, "I think he's not going to kill us when they get what they want."

No, helmets and voice modulators and blindfolded bathroom trips didn't usually predict a homicidal villain.

"And if they don't get what they want?"

A beat of silence. "When I tried to convince you to not come... he broke my nose. No hesitation."

Great.

"Alright. We either hope they get what they want and let us go..." Dick looked around the walls, a single camera blinked back, no microphone. He lowered his voice. "Or we escape."

"How?" Tim asked, his voice going unimpressed, hinting that the boy had already been trying that.

Dick slowly sat up, angling his body so it didn't look too obvious he was hiding his hands from the camera. He wrapped his fingers around his anchor to the floor, the bolt wobbled a bit.

"Bolt's loose. I'll get my hands free, then I'll get us both out of here."

Tim relaxed a bit, relief a visible wave. "Sorry, but I'm glad you're here."

"It's okay," Dick responded, throwing a reassuring smile. "I'm glad too."

He'd rather be here with Tim than back outside, not knowing.

At least here, he had a chance to protect Tim.

-o0o-

The kidnapper, which Tim and Dick had worked together to nickname "Visor", returned about two hours later. Dick couldn't help but tense when the door opened while Tim gave a hard glare from where he had worked himself up into a seated position.

"The bats are widening their search a little too close to where I don't want them," Visor said as he walked in. "I need some incentive to drive them away."

Tim stiffened, his eyes traveling over to something Visor held, previously hidden from vision but now fully in view.

Dick stiffened too.

One of his escrima sticks was held in the enemy's hand, and the reason why wasn't hard to guess.

It wouldn't be hard to lure someone away from somewhere you didn't want them to be if you plant something elsewhere that would catch attention.

"You really think Batman would fall for something as obvious as that?" Dick asked, putting bravado into his voice and succeeding in catching Visor's full attention. "He's probably already figured out that this whole kidnapping thing is a distraction, planting something like that is just going to make it obvious that there's somewhere you don't want him to be."

He wished he could see Visor's face as the large man blankly observed him for a moment, it made it all the more unnerving when Visor broke into a low chuckle. "This is what I admire about you, Nightwing," he said, a smile in his voice, bringing his hands in front of his chest and running his fingers over the stolen weapon. "And what I was most looking forward to when I found it was you who fell for my second trap."

Cold fear settled in his belly. "What?"

"Your martyrism."

Then he turned and hit Tim across the jaw with Dick's escrima, causing the younger hero to fall onto the ground with a cut off shout, the blow coming as a surprise, the thud of his shoulder hitting the cement sounded like a distant roar of thunder to Dick's suddenly ringing ears.

"Hey- HEY!" Dick snarled, he couldn't help it, if Tim was shocked by the sudden violence, then Dick was caught in the whole lightning storm. He went to his knees, straining against the cuffs and the loose anchor. "I'm talking to you!"

Visor laughed, and it dug the pit deeper. "Now this is the cherry on top."

Dick had met plenty of sadists. He'd been held hostage by many of them. And yet, they usually took the bait, they usually ignored who Dick wanted them to ignore and went after him just to wipe his arrogance off his face. Sure, it cost him a straight nose, a scar here and there, a few weeks bedrest, but it was always worth it, because it meant he was the only one who got hurt. He did his job as the first Robin. As Nightwing. As the oldest brother.

But Visor had anticipated that, and instead of taking Dick's bait, he immediately found that the exact way to hurt both hostages the most was to keep Nightwing perfectly untouched.

He hit Tim again, but Tim didn't shout. He probably figured out Visor's goal was to make this hurt for Nightwing and had decided that keeping stony and quiet and brave would hurt Dick less. Tim had been through worse, after all. They all have. A beating with a glorified stick was nothing.

Somehow, it hurt more to see Tim glance at Dick, forgiveness and bravery and determination shining through those white lenses, than it would have been to hear him scream.

Dick wanted to scream.

He met Tim's eyes, and grinded his jaw shut.

By the time Visor had a satisfactory spray of blood across the escrima stick and left, humming to himself, Dick's wrists were slick and red beneath bands of silver, the anchor looser without him even intentionally trying.

And Tim laid still on the floor.

-o0o-

Hours passed again. Tim remained unconscious for most of it, even after Dick had tried and tried again to stir him with voice alone.

He watched Tim breathe, terrified one lungful would be the last, images of corpses and funerals flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinked.

He couldn't do this again. He couldn't endure another sibling's funeral. A part of him died with every one—there couldn't be much more of him left. Them coming back to life didn't revive those parts of him. Those parts haunted him in his nightmares, and if Tim... if Tim didn't survive this one... if Tim didn't survive because some fucker knew it would hurt more to watch... those parts would drag him under, and he knew he wouldn't try to swim back up.

He worked at the bolt holding him down. Visor wouldn't have another chance to hit Tim again. When he came back in the room, Dick was going to end this.

Near the end of the third hour, Tim stirred, groaning.

Dick quickly called for his attention, and Tim, bless him, did his best to respond.

"D..ik?"

His jaw was swollen. A tooth had been spat out a blow or two before the blow that knocked him out.

Dick didn't even care about identities right now.

"Hey, hey, you're okay. I'm gonna get us out of here."

Tim took a few deep breaths through his mouth, spitting blood onto the floor, not daring to move what must be an aching body.

"... kay..."

"Just hold on a little longer. You're being so brave. Just a little longer, I promise."

Tim, half conscious, in pain, put on something that must be intended to be a brave face, but it only broke Dick's heart more. Tim lost the fight with consciousness, and fell back into what couldn't be a painless slumber.

About an hour later, Visor returned.

The anchor wasn't loose enough to escape yet, and Dick had to swallow his panic.

Even with the helmet, Visor didn't look happy.

"How did they know," he growled, striding forward and grabbing Dick by the neck. "How did you tell them."

The pressure wasn't strong enough to choke, but it was just shy of becoming so. Dick should feel afraid of that, and yet, he only felt relief that in Visor's true anger, he walked straight past Tim.

"I told you," Dick hissed, the fingers oh so close to squeezing, he could feel it inside his throat. "You're an idiot to think they wouldn't catch on."

The replying sneer was audible, physical in a twitch of fingers. "That's where you're wrong, we planned for this. I have two hostages, you're my bargaining chip for a prisoner exchange."

Dick thinned his lips to keep from vocalizing that in the end, when it came to the Batfamily, prisoner exchanges never worked in the enemy's favor.

"I just have to show them I'm serious first," Visor continued, his voice lowering to an eerie promise, like rolling fog in ancient mountains. "I only need one hostage."

The words processed milliseconds too late, Visor had shoved Dick away and had walked back toward Tim, kneeling, hands reaching towards his younger brother's neck.

Something untamable tore out of Dick's throat, taking control over his body. His heart was a beast clawing at his ribcage, panic swallowing him whole. As Visor began to choke Tim, the boy too unconscious to give more than the body's sluggish, natural reaction, Dick began to pull at his chains, at the anchor, the pain in his wrists meaning nothing to the mere feet between him, and the monster killing his little brother.

"You fucking bastard," he roared, vocal chords straining with his wrists, his own shouting thousands of miles away, drowned out with the suffocating panic and the ringing in his ears. "Touch him and I'll kill you!"

Visor ignored him. Tim was twitching, eyes opening with pain and confusion, legs jolting and arms tugging at his own handcuffs.

Seconds passed. Seconds that engrained themselves into Dick's soul like an unwanted tattoo. Finally, as Tim's face turned red under the blood smeared on his cheeks, as his eyes began to flutter back shut, the anchor fell loose.

It was as easy as breathing to contort his body in a way that allowed his wrists to pass under his legs and in front of his body. He was running the next instant, crashing into Visor, bodies colliding in shouts and struggles, shoulders hitting the cement away from Tim.

Tim erupted into very painful coughs, and Dick... Dick couldn't bring the monster back in.

His fists wanted impact. His fingers wanted pressure. His skin wanted blood that belonged to the man below him.

Visor didn't make the bloodlust easy. He put his weight into struggling. There was a reason this man was able to capture not one, but two bats within their own city. He fought back like a demon fresh out of Hell, his own blows landing with promised swelled purple bruises across his jaw, shoulders, neck, stomach. At some point, he even managed to kick Dick off with a heavy boot, knocking Dick across the small room and slamming his back into the water rotted walls. He said something, something prideful and angry and arrogant, something that turned to static to Dick's angry ears.

He went to kick Dick in the stomach before Dick could get back up, but while Visor fought like a demon out of Hell, Dick had an older devil inside of him, one that's been caged for much, much longer.

Dick will make him wish he went for the gun.

The pain meant nothing, it didn't slow him down as he scrambled to his feet and jumped onto the larger man, wrapping his legs around his torso and flipping him down onto the ground, back under Dick, at the perfect angle for Dick to bring his bound hands up and down over and over and over again until the helmet cracked, visor shattered, splinters going into bloodied hands below bloodied wrists controlled by a bloody hatred that, after this, he knew would haunt him.

Visor tried to fight back, and he tried until he couldn't. He tried until his helmet fell off and his face was exposed, cheekbones cut, nose cracked, jaw loose, eyes terrified and half-lidded and losing focus.

Dick didn't stop.

He wanted Visor dead.

He didn't stop until a body crashed into his own, arms large and strong wrapping around his waist and tearing him from Visor and pinning him down to the ground, heavy hands on his shoulder blades, pinning his bound hands between the cement and his heaving stomach. Dick struggled, brain screaming at the sudden change.

"Get Red out of here, B!" A voice shouted above him, "I got him!"

The voice was familiar. Through blurred eyes, the form that stooped down to Tim was familiar too.

Batman undid Tim's restraints and carefully lifted the limp body into his hands, eyes barely casting a second torn glance back at Dick, who was completely pinned under Jason's weight, before leaving the room.

Dick breathed. He breathed like he'd been deprived of air for hours on end, windpipe bursting open, the edges fading.

His brain caught up with him. Jason had positioned himself perfectly, almost purposely, to obscure Dick's view to Visor. He didn't release Dick, and Dick knew why.

Jason understood this anger. This fury. This rage that took everything that made you you and replaced it with something you wouldn't recognize in the mirror. He kept Dick pinned, not speaking, not accusing, not comforting, just there until Duke and Cass arrived to drag Visor out of the room, eyes very carefully avoiding Dick like if they looked, everything they thought they knew about him would be destroyed and replaced with something unstomachable.

When they left, Jason jumped off like Dick was on fire, and Dick scrambled away like he was acid.

Silence filtered between the two of them. Jason stood near the door, as if afraid Dick would bolt, but in all honesty, Dick didn't have even a fraction of the energy to do something like that, even if the anger hadn't suddenly been replaced with exhaustion and self-hatred.

"Was he breathing?"

"Tim? Or Zeek?"

Zeek. That was his name? Of course they figured that out too.

"Tim first."

"Yeah, B has him back at the cave. Alfred's got him stable."

Dick swallowed. How long had he been here? How long had Jason been here making sure Dick didn't murder someone? 

"Zeek is also alive, GPD has him handcuffed to a gurney on the way to the hospital."

Dick brought his knees to his chin... and he could only bring himself to nod.

Jason approached a second later and finally got the cuffs unlocked around Dick's shredded wrists. As he bandaged them, talked to him about getting him back to the cave... Dick felt nothing.

-o0o-

"Hey."

"... Hey."

"You weren't answering your phone, so," Tim shrugged, looking all too comfortable and normal standing in the entrance doorway of Dick's apartment.

"Tim, I'm..." Dick had his hand behind his neck, wrists achy. He regretted opening the door, he thought it was the landlord or something. "You look good."

Makeup covered the bruises on his neck, that much was obvious, and Tim wore a high collar hoodie. Everything else looked about as healed as Dick's wrists.

"Yeah," Tim smiled, pushing his way inside. "A few weeks of Alfred-enforced-bedrest can do that. Finally escaped."

"Tim, now really isn't a good time," Dick said as Tim took off his shoes and raided the freezer.

"Knew you'd have some," he said victoriously, ignoring Dick and pulling out a tub of ice cream. "You always have a stash. What are you feeling? I'm feeling a Lord of the Rings marathon."

Dick sighed, and closed the door. "I don't have the extended."

"That's alright," Tim pulled two bowls out of Dick's cupboards and set the tub of ice cream on the counter to thaw. "I brought them."

"Tim, what is this?"

"I think you know," Tim said lightly. "Bruce keeps saying that space is what you need, but I think ice cream will help quicker."

"I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about."

"Liar. Well, that first bit is a lie."

"I'm dealing."

"With me, and ice cream, and Lord of the Rings."

Dick, defeated, sank into the sofa and grabbed the remote. "You're impossible."

"No, I just know you. You blame yourself for me getting hurt, and you blame yourself for not getting us out of there. I also know you want to wallow in your guilt for as long as you can, and you know the second I tell you I don't blame you, it's not your fault, you're human and you're a victim too, yes I know you still blame yourself so I'll forgive you for you, etcetera etcetera you won't be able to wallow in the guilt. Hence, the ignored phone-calls. Hence, ice cream. Lord of the Rings."

Dick sighed. "You can say that, but I still feel awful, Timbers."

"That's okay," Tim said, joining Dick on the sofa, handing him a bowl of ice cream, and pulling out the first DVD of Lord of the Rings, the extended version. "I'm here until you don't anymore. Keep in mind, I'm also feeling Pirates of the Caribbean."

That wormed a smile. It almost felt traitorously real. "And Star Wars?"

Tim stood up and went to the DVD player, opening the case.

"Star Trek too if you want."

"Thank you, Tim. And I'm sorry."

"I don't blame you, and believe it or not, it wasn't your fault."

He slid the disk in, and sat down next to Dick, leaning on Dick's shoulder with a content sigh, pulling his own ice-cream bowl up to his chin.

Dick couldn't help it. He melted, allowing Tim to get comfortable, allowing himself to get comfortable.

It felt vile to allow any kind of comfort, but Tim was right, they've had this rodeo before, and with quiet conversations during the quiet scenes, he wasn't surprised he felt a little better by the time they put in The Return of the King.

Not all the way. That would probably take a few more marathons, and maybe a hug, another bowl of ice-cream.

And for a whole night and most of the morning, the guilt went forgotten, and he knew it would be okay. He would be okay.

Because Tim was beside him. Breathing, alive, softly snoring as sunlight filtered through the window.

And that wasn't changing, not any time soon.

[milimeters-morales]

transfem miles (atsv) rambling under the cut

sometimes i think of like. miles having to buy a binder or binding with extra clothes bc they aren’t ready to be really public about transitioning, much less as spider-man, and they weren’t expecting the changes their hrt causes to happen so quick. so they’re like “okay what was the point of all that then” because they’re having a hard time understanding that yes, you can desire these physical changes & still NOT be ready for everyone else to see that. like an emergency haircut.

and i want to explore the less talked about aspects of transness, like i already have gwen (transgirl, i must make the distinction) as wanting top surgery in the future and binding sometimes already bc she wants it like that. i BARELY see that discussed in general. and i have peter (b) as non-binding outside of being spider-man (though that’ll stop soon bc he’s getting too tired to care), and being fine with being called feminine terms by his daughter. and oh my god, hobie? most confusing person miles has met when it comes to gender and presentation, and they love that about him.

kenneth is also important here, because kenneth isn’t on and doesn’t plan to get on hrt, and miles sees kenneth as like. the dream non-binary person. they look very gnc without even trying, and aren’t ashamed of themselves, and have a loving/supportive mother. the gender envy (and general envy) miles gets is off the charts. seeing all these other trans people of different types, in ways that they don’t see often in their civilian life or online, is a very vital part of their journey both before and after they start HRT. like of course i gotta make ocs for this entire thing, to get more variety bc Miles is NOT ready for the sheer amounts of “unconventional” trans people in the world, they can barely understand Hobie in the beginning. it’ll be so overwhelming and tempting to just go back in the closet. and i’m gonna love making them figure all this shit out. it’s gonna knock her socks off

but yeah i’ve done a lot of research, and while i won’t include the actual “getting approved/starting hrt” part in this fic (would have to be a sequel) i already have so much planned. get ready for bacne and period symptoms