#figured it would be fun to put this out there

[gamergirlwrites]

Dating Leon Kennedy Headcanons

NSFW under the cut

SFW

Leon is very up front about the potential dangers in dating him. He has made a lot of enemies, and because of his work, he'll keep making more

Because his job is so dangerous, he has lots of money to spoil you with. He loves to come see you with all sorts of random gifts and things.

He's gotten kind of out of touch, so he asks around to figure out what kinds of things to get you at first. Still, he's very good with romantic gestures, both big and small.

There's never a boring date with Leon because the two of you just naturally have fun together. It doesn't matter if you stay in and watch a movie or go out for a night out in the time.

Leon runs a little cool, so he likes to sleep close to you at night. He's always the big spoon unless he's laying on your chest with your hand in his hair. That's always when he falls asleep the fastest.

Leon is very appreciative of breakfast being made for him because he's an awful cook, but if you're tired, he'll order in without hesitation.

Any opportunity to take care of you that doesn't include actual danger is something Leon will never pass up. He knows that sometimes he isn't the most expressive, and this is just his way of making sure that you know he loves you.

He absolutely melts whenever you get him random little gifts and things "because you saw it and thought of him" because he's never really had someone to love him like that. As much fun as he thought his time with Ada was, being with you makes him feel like he's one of those cheesy Hallmark movies.

NSFW

The first thing Leon does after being away for more than 3 days if fuck you. You would think that he had been away for years the way that he acts like he's going to explode.

Leon is an absolute munch, and will spend so much time eating you out that you have to push him away when it becomes too much. He would do pretty much anything to eat you out all the time.

He is obsessed with putting you in a mating press and just fucking you until neither one of you can form a coherent thought.

Leon has ridiculous stamina, so be prepared to go multiple rounds. Leon wants to make you cum as many times as possible, so that you'll be feeling it for a day or two after.

It's very important to Leon that you're taken care of, so you can bet that Leon is gong all out for aftercare. You're getting a heated blanket, plenty of praise and cuddles, a warm washcloth to quickly clean you up, and a nice, warm cup of tea to relax with.

As much as Leon loves doing things for you, he won't turn down a nice surprise or two in the bedroom from you. He gets giddy seeing you on your knees just for him, especially whenever you tell him that he can be a bit rough with you.

Expect to be taken to your limits on nights like that, but also know that you're being spoiled for the next week after. He'll eat you out every morning and fuck you as many times as you want when you get back home after work.

[plainclothesdisaster]

Danny opens the door to his apartment to find one Jason Todd on his doormat, knuckles raised as if about to knock, tupperware in hand. Surprise surprise.

“Uh,” Jason lowers his hand. Maybe Danny should have let him actually knock- better to keep up appearances, like he couldn’t sense Jason anytime they’re within a three block radius of each other. But he’s tired- so goddamn tired- of this whole charade.

“What’s on the menu today?” He levels Jason with a look.

“Soup. Lentils. It’s, uh, high protein. Very healthy.”

Danny shouldn’t find Jason’s floundering so cute, knowing what he knows. But seeing as he didn’t ask for this (in fact, he explicitly asked for /not/ this), he thinks he’s allowed a little fun.

“Healthy, huh?”

Jason nods, and presents the container for him to take. Instead Danny swings the door wider.

“You might as well come in.”

//

Jason sits at the modest kitchen table as Danny sets a mug of warmed soup in front of him, then takes his own seat, another mug in hand.

He hasn’t actually been inside Danny’s apartment before, he’d always just left the meals outside his door. Bruce had been coy about sharing details on his top Watchtower engineer, but the breadcrumbs from the case files told enough of the story: Danny was just a kid barely out of college with a large dose of trauma and way too much responsibility. Bruce had also been clear on one thing: Danny didn’t want help.

That just meant Jason would have to get creative with how he helped him.

But now that he’s actually here, face to face with his most recent pet project, he’s not quite sure what to do. Danny just watches him, completely unmoving, except for his eyes that watch as Jason lifts an awkward spoonful of soup.

“So did Bruce put you up to this?”

Jason sputters over his spoon. “Bruce? Don’t know who you’re talking about. I just saw a neighbor in need, and I cook a lot anyway, so-“

“Sure. And you just happen to deliver only on days I’m not scheduled to be off planet? You’re not slick.”

Jason swallows. He sure does know Danny’s schedule and he sure doesn’t have a good excuse. Danny sighs.

“It’s okay. The food’s good. I’m just trying to figure out, well, why?”

“It was um, implied that Batman’s favorite Watchtower tech could use a home cooked meal or two.”

“He never knows when to leave it alone, huh.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Then why you? Unless—ah. He must have made the connection to your whole… situation.”

“My what?”

“Okay. Um. So, you do know you died, right?”

Jason chokes on soup. Again.

“Is that a yes…?”

“Yeah,” he croaks, “Yeah I just— How the hell do you know?”

“Ah. Well. That’s a bit of a long story.”

Danny gives him a strained smile and Jason takes a measured breath, not trying very hard to mask his disappointment. He wants to ask for more- desperately- but he shouldn’t. He’s supposed to be helping Danny, not the other way around.

Then Danny takes a spoonful of soup. He leans back in his chair the moment he tastes it. “Goddammit that’s good.”

Jason flushes with pride before Danny pins him with a look that chills him to his toes. His heart races, and he feels for a moment like he’s a bug under a microscope, and he’s not so sure he hates it.

Yet it’s Danny’s crooked smile that follows that makes his heart race even faster.

“Okay. How much time do you have?”

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS BONUS CHAPTER

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlwifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs @ohmybueckers

warnings sexual content

kalena speakss 🪽! i hit 1k last night so i figured it would be perfect to give you guys this lil thing. thank you guys so much for all the love since i joined this community, i can’t wait to put out more works for y’all 🥹 THANK YOU AGAIN FOR 1K!

August 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“You’re really about to go have drinks and leave me here? All by myself?” I whine, my head resting on the mirror where I sit on Raye’s bathroom counter.

The last month of being with Maraye has been nothing short of an adventure to say the least. The honeymoon phase was absolutely real, because I honestly think we’ve spent more time with one another than apart. Aside from my last road trip.

Which I believe is the sole reason for my complaining and frowning in front of her right now.

“I’ve had these plans for weeks. I haven’t seen my girls in forever, it’s the first time everyone’s back in LA.” She explains to me, and I get it. I really do, but something about just landing last night and only getting a few kisses before bed makes the fact that she’s going out even more ridiculous in my head.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you in forever. Do you just hate me, or what?” I continued. I reach for the belt loop of Raye’s denim skirt, pulling her in between my legs. “Ma, c’mon.”

She has this look on her face that makes it so hard to act upset. Wide eyes and a thin lipped cheeky smile. Concealer dabbed under her eyes, blush on her cheeks, Raye got her lashes done yesterday morning and the fresh set makes her dark rimmed eyes look even more enticing.

My girlfriend is fucking hot. I’ve had the privilege of having my eyes blessed by her since we started dating. But God, even the simplicity of her black top and jean skirt— with the tiniest sliver of skin on her stomach showing and skirt just short enough to bring a lot of dirty thoughts to my imagination— makes the realization stick to me like glue.

“You look good.” I murmur as I trail my hand behind her. It finds a home against her waist at first, but I could only be tempted to drag it lower over her ass. “Real fuckin’ good.”

“I know. Which is why I’m going out.” Raye jeers. She pushes off of me, reaching for her just slightly pink lip gloss. It’s sheer when she swipes it over her plump lips, a nice color contrast to the dark brown of her lip liner.

My fingers tap frustratedly against my knee. “Baby. Jus’ stay wimme, c’mon.” I groan again, hoping that my combination of puppy eyes and the line of my jaw is enough to convince her. I watch the way Raye pats her lips together and I know it’s not on purpose but it sure as hell feels that way.

“You had all day to try to keep me home. You didn’t care until I got all dressed up, P.” She rolls her eyes playfully. Raye shutting off the light and leaving me in the darkness of her bathroom. The sexy scent of her Jimmy Choo perfume briefly puts me in a trance but I get up and follow her anyway.

“That’s ’cause I didn’t expect you to look this…this fucking fine.” My bottom lip can’t help but travel between my teeth as I watch her walk, her boots clicking against the hardwood of her apartment.

“That’s not my problem, babe.”

I scoff. “Don’t go out with ‘em, Raye. You’re telling me we wouldn’t have more fun here?” My voice is suggestive, just enough to make her stutter in her step before slowly pivoting to face me.

She’s processing what to say, and a part of me is begging that she’s going to take her boots off and throw herself at me so I have her as I want for the rest of the night.

Raye struts over to me, pressing her palm against my cheek. We’re nearly at eye level like this, the smell of her hair product wafts up to my nose. I jut my lips out towards her, to be honest I’m not sure I even realized how genuinely needy I was until right then.

“‘M gonna get lipgloss on you.” She sighs.

“On my life, I don’t give a shit.”

It seems enough to get her to give in, enough for Raye to lean in and pull me to her by my tank top, slotting her lips against mine. She tastes like that same faint, sweet, coconut scent of her body wash.

I immediately reach for her hands, lacing her fingers with mine and dragging her other hand down my torso as I deepen the kiss.

She grips the waistband of my shorts, my tongue doesn’t even bother being gentle with the way I shove it between her lips, licking at her tongue in a tangled exchange.

Seemingly, she forgets that she had places to be, which fills me with a sense of pride that sends a rush through me, I think I’ve probably soaked my boxers into nothing by now. Maraye’s phone buzzes in her purse, making her hum in almost…realization.

“They can wait.” I grunt against her lips, our teeth continuing to clash in pure want.

Raye breaks the suction of our mouths, a vulgar popping noise cutting through the soft noise of the TV in the back.

“You can wait.”

“It’s been forever, ma. You gon’ let me go over a week without you? For real?”

A laugh erupts from her mouth, Raye’s thumb brushing under my lip, probably ridding me of any of her now transferred lip product. “There’s food on the stove, don’t touch my AC, and I promise—” the girl pauses, taking the opportunity to sneak a kiss off of me, “— I’ll let you have whatever you want when I get back.”

I can’t do anything more than sigh as I watch her walk away, the sway of her hips and swell of her ass and the light that her kitchen illuminates on those long, brown legs. She picks up her keys and slings her jacket over her arm.

Within seconds she’s gone.

—

When I got to the bar, enveloped in conversation with my girlfriends from college, all it really took was a few shots to get me going. The conversation flowed easily, like we really hadn’t even been apart for as long as we really did. I was having a good time. Which honestly, is surprising considering how much work I’ve been doing for the last handful of months.

The night was calm, the soft noise of 2000’s music pumping through the speakers and the occasional cheers at the expense of tipsy women dancing only a few feet away.

That was until Paige, even as wonderful and perfect as I think she truly is, decided to use my obvious obsession towards her to her advantage.

paige: You doin alright angel?

Yk without your amazing girlfriend and all read 10:38pm

I sip on my margarita, the heat of the alcohol and the almost sudden heat in the pit of my stomach is so strong that they’re one and the same. This is how it starts with her, I’ve learned. Short texts, asking how I am or about my whereabouts. I always find the second question amusing considering she has my location. It’s distracting in a way that makes me forget where I am.

“Oh my God, look at Cass.” My good friend who sits to my left, Nia, points up to my sister. The woman is obviously shit faced, too many drinks taken by this part of the evening. She dances carelessly alongside a few of the other girls.

“I swear she only had a few?” I look shocked, taking a mental note and making sure the only thing Cassie has to drink for the rest of the night is water.

“Multiply that by like, four.”

My ready response is immediately cut off by another text, the blinding light that comes from Paige’s contact makes me roll my eyes.

paige: Read? Wow what position y’all in rn 10:40pm

maraye: oh my god you’re dramatic as hell 😭

i’m fine baby, u? 10:41pm

paige: Nah not rlly

I’m wet as fuck rn just thinking about you

Made a mess on your couch :/ 10:42pm

My breath catches in my throat, coming off as a gasp to Nia. “You okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Imma head to the bathroom real fast.” I explain, trying my best to mask any possible stutter as I stand up, fixing my skirt. She doesn’t say much, which is a relief to me as I dart off to the bathroom in the back.

This is classic Paige, trying to do anything to get in my head just because she can. And as much as I’d hate to admit that it’s working, it is.

The way she was so straightforward about it, drawing me into the conversation with lighthearted Paige-esque texts only to flip the script into something much more filthy within a matter of minutes.

I lean my back on the singular porcelain sink, gripping my phone in my hands. I reopen our text thread, racking my brain for what to say to her that won’t lead to me making a mess out of my panties.

maraye: paige quit itttt

i literally just got here 10:44pm

paige: I literally don’t care 🤷🏼‍♀️

Can’t get your ass in that skirt outta my head

Got my fingers all sticky and shit 10:45pm

I swear my heartbeat speeds up times fucking ten, my chest heaving like she sucked all the air out of my lungs without even being here.

The picture she just painted in my head makes my knees weak.

Hot and bothered even more than before I left. Paige’s fingers, long and so ridiculously skilled, between her thighs as she got off to me. The thought of her imagining me or looking at pictures of me, it’s so downright dirty that I can’t believe I didn’t indulge in sexting with her before this.

I take a deep inhale, wanting to blink back my thoughts of her coming on my couch, my name off of her lips like a prayer.

paige: 1 Attachment: 1 Video

I think you should come back home 10:47pm

Fumbling with my phone I finally tap the screen and get the video open. It’s pitch black at first, then the view of her lower body fills my whole screen. Paige’s legs spread wide on my couch, a foot propped up on the armrest as she lets out an audible groan.

Her hand tugs up the hem of her wife beater, then her fingers rub circles over her clit. The sound of how wet she is loud, too loud, almost drowning out her moaning. I whine, crossing my legs and shutting my eyes. Maybe if I stopped looking at her I would keep what was left of my sanity.

And then she moans my name, again. My full name. Over and over and fucking over. I can’t help but drag my hand under my skirt, over my panties.

Then she slips three fingers inside, the stretch is obvious but the moan she lets out. Paige curls her fingers inside herself, I watch the camera tremble in response— she’s struggle to hold it still.

Then she’s slamming them in and out, a repetition that makes her almost cry. It sounds like water sloshing on the other side of the phone. Wet. Wet and fucking messy until she comes with a sound that could really only be described as a scream.

maraye: fuck baby 10:50pm

paige: I can’t stop cumming ma

Needa fuck you so bad

Come home 10:50pm

My breathing is ragged, and I know I shouldn’t but I’m considering it heavily. It’s so hard to believe that not even two weeks without her was making me act like this but it was.

maraye: you gotta come get me 10:51pm

paige: Otw read 10:52pm

—

"So, What'd you tell 'em?" I murmur. We sit at a red light, my left hand gripping the steering wheel so hard that even in the late night lighting you can tell how strained they are. But my right hand, trails slowly up Raye's thigh. She didn't fight me, not at all, her legs spreading further in the seat of my Jeep.

I can feel the warmth exuding from her before I even get a chance to press against her cunt.

"Hmm?"

"Your girls. What was your excuse, ma?" I ask again, pressing my foot to the gas pedal as soon as that green light flashes in my face.

My fingers take their time traveling towards her center and the second they do, Raye adjusts in the seat. She pushes her hips up the leather, tipping her head back on the head rest.

"Told 'em you needed a good fuck?" I pull her panties aside, and the second they touch my fingertips I learn that she's fucking soaked. "That you were so fuckin' needy that you had to go home to me, huh?"

The soft sound of PartyNextDoor fills the car alongside the soft hum of pleasure from Raye's lips. My eyes dart down to her, the way she has her eyes glued shut, the heavy rise and fall of her chest. Then I follow the slope of her nose and the tip of her head. The city streetlights make her look like an angel, just glowing.

"Y’were the one begging for me." She groans as I slip my finger inside. The angle puts a slight strain on my wrist but I don't really care. I look back to the road, it's pure luck that the roads tonight are kind of empty.

“It worked tho’ right? Got you just how I want you.” I smirk at the fact, tapping my free hand against the steering wheel.

Raye is so damn warm against me, hugging my middle finger like a vice. "So jus' lemme know. Did you say how wet I make you, that's why you couldn't stay?"

"Oh fuck you." She moans, biting her lip so hard that I think she might draw blood.

“Imma do that, baby. Trust me.” I hum.

Maraye is reactive, if it’s the one thing I’ve noticed about having sex with her, it’s that. Sure the sound of her pussy around my finger is loud but her moans might be louder. Then when I slip in a second finger she lets out a whimper, an almost helpless one.

She tries to steady herself, splaying a hand on my center console but it only does so much. It stabilizes her for a moment until I curl my fingers in that way I know she likes. Her hips jerk up, riding up her skirt in the process.

“You tryna run? I thought you knew better than that, Raye.” I shake my head. I’m lucky we’re on a straight road, it gives me enough time to briefly let my hand leave the wheel to pin her hips down to the seat.

“Y—you’re so good.” She groans, blinking her eyes open. “M’gonna cum.”

I make a swift turn onto her street, racking my brain for all the ways I could turn this woman to putty until the sun came up. “Nah you gonna hold it until we get to yours.” I mutter, dragging my fingers in and out with a fervor. “Then you’re gonna let me fuck you with my cock.”

I watch her jaw fall slack at my words, either in shock or pleasure but regardless it’s addicting. She nods rapidly, whining as I slow my fingers until they’re barely even moving inside her and I finally get a chance to park the car.

“More, baby. Mor—”

“Gonna soak me up the way you’re soaking my seat. Jus’ fuckin’ up my car, huh? You’re gonna give it to me.” I turn my body to face her, gripping her chin so she’s looking at me. My fingers twist inside of her, the squelch of it all catches us both off guard. “Imma stretch you out so wide it hurts. Ruin that pussy, yeah?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Raye nods.

Her eyes roll back, more than enough to make me moan and pull my fingers out. They’re soaked with her arousal, a sheen that drips to my palm. I’m wrapped in the scent of her— sex, perfume, and coconut— a combination that makes me drip down my legs.

“Then let’s go.” I mutter, turning off the car sticking my keys into the pocket of my shorts. My hand comes up to my lips, cleaning them of the mess she had made. “Lemme get you right.”

—

Paige is fucking hot.

Her skin burns under my touch, yes, but it’s everything else too. How her lips chase after mine like I could run away, capturing my bottom lip in her mouth. Her tongue licking past my lips, into my mouth, and onto my tongue.

Our clothes are mostly long gone, my boots and skirt laying somewhere near my front door, and the rest of them occupied random spots across my bedroom floor.

And then that damn harness.

The first time we had sex and she brought up the strap I thought it was all a ploy to turn me on. Don’t get me wrong, it worked, made me cum so hard my legs shook until I fell asleep. But seeing it, seeing the way the dildo hangs from her hips— a long and girthy dark purple— made me drool.

She was blatantly vulgar with it, my cock, the words off her lips so dirty that i’m surprised they turn me on as much as they do. But that’s just Paige, everything she does turns me on.

She tangles her hand behind me to the clasp of my bra which she unclips and forces down my arms. Following that, a slap meets my ass hard. Hard enough that I’m almost positive she left a bruise.

“I been dreaming about this shit, y’know?” She starts. Her teeth nip at my lips, soothing the slight sting with short and soft pecks. “Tearin’ it open, how good that shit would feel.”

I hum against her, letting the blonde push me back against the bed. “That’s what got you so worked up, baby?” I tease. Paige watches me with wide eyes and an even wider mouth as I trail my panties down my legs, they’re soaked from her stunt over the phone and in the car.

“Fuck, Raye, y’ont even know.” She groans.

I watch the way her eyes flutter shut, like she’s imagining it all over again, and her hand travels to the strap. Her hand wraps around it, enough to remind me of how fucking huge her hand is. She strokes it as if it’s an extension of her. There’s a faint buzzing that I hear on the other end, and just knowing she’s getting off too makes this whole thing even more appealing.

“Been thinking about splitting me open, yeah?” I ask as my hands travel up to my chest, gripping my breast before bringing my other hand to my mouth. I’m putting on a show for her licking my fingers and shoving them between my legs, rubbing over my clit. “Make me cum on your cock, baby. Please?” I beg, widening my legs to make room for her.

“Scoot back.” The blonde instructs. And I do. I know better than to work her up some more.

I watch my girlfriend’s spit drip from her mouth and onto the tip as she hovers over me. She spreads it over the silicon before spitting on my cunt too. Paige teases the tip against me and I swear the minute she pushes it inside me, my body heat rises uncontrollably.

“Oh my—shitttt, baby!” I think I feel it in my chest, the pressure that fills me completely. My inner thighs sting as she slides the dildo in to the hilt, letting out a soft gasp that matches my expletive. Paige’s arms cage me in, palms pressed against beside my head as she starts rocking her hips.

I’ve had my fair share of sex and sexual experiences, but this right here, makes everything else I’ve ever done look like child’s play. The stretch is unbelievable. And even if Paige had taken it upon herself to try and prep me with her fingers all this time, they don’t even compare.

It’s so intimate, Paige’s breath fanning against my face and her thin silver chain dangling against me too. Her strokes are slow, and deep. Incredibly deep. She reaches a spot inside of me that hasn’t been tapped before, and she does it fast, almost instantly.

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” She murmurs in my ear. Paige’s hand wraps around my waist, raising my hips just enough to make my eyes water. “Tell me how that pussy feelin’.”

I gasp. “So… so fuckin’ good. Mmmm it’s perfect, baby.”

Paige speeds up, not rapid but just enough that I’m arching my back and throwing my hips down against her. My legs curl around her hips to pull her in deeper.

“Oh shit.” Paige grunts, the vibrator against her cunt coupled with the movement of my hips is stimulating her heavy. “This whatchu needed? Just good dick, yeah? He wasn’t hittin’ it right?”

I dig my nails into her biceps, which are huge from her All-Star break workouts, and shake my head. Her eyes flutter open, lip tucked between her teeth. She looks fucking incredible, Paige’s hair is down for the first time in a while. She’s always pulling it back, but right now with the way it shadows us in a curtain is goddess like.

“Answer me, angel.”

“Uh huh, yes! Fuck yes, I needed it so bad, P.” I moan. Paige only briefly pauses to change her angle, but then she’s right back against me. Skin to fucking skin. She unhooks my leg from around her, pushing it back as far as she could.

Her nose brushes against my own. “You take me so good. Keep suckin’ me up, ma.”

My eyes roll as the coil in my stomach tightens, I don’t think I’ve ever come this fast in my life. The way the strap rakes laboriously into my cunt is toe curling. “Needa cum. Let me, please.” I hiccup. My fingers tangle into her hair, tugging her locks slightly.

“Tell me you love it.”

Those five words are enough to make me fall under a spell. Paige’s voice is laced with fucking drugs, deep and breathy against my mouth.

“I love this shit. Love your cock, baby.” It comes out as almost a cry.

The admission makes Paige smirk and chase after my mouth, locking our lips in a kiss that draws the orgasm out of my body. She moans all high and drawn out into my mouth meshing our tongues messily.

“You wanna cum, Raye?” She stutters. I notice it, obviously. The change in her pitch and the way she slightly trips over her words. She’s close, probably overstimulated from her activities on my couch.

“Please?”

“I want it, baby. Cum for me.”

And I do. Gushing over the silicone almost instantly. Paige helps me ride it out, kissing the corner of my mouth before trailing her lips to my cheek. “Good girl. My perfect girl.” She hums.

She carefully pulls out, trying to be as gentle as she possibly can but I still hiss at the feeling. A whimper leaves my lips at the empty feeling, I miss her inside me already.

Paige flops beside me on the bed, she’s watching me catch my breath. I can feel her eyes on me even though i’m not looking at her. Her eyes like lasers, scanning over me. The blue says everything she’s yet to.

“Just say you wanna go again.”

She laughs at that while throwing her arm over my hip. It rests heavy on my abdomen. I finally turn my head to her, the sweat on her entire body only makes the chain on her neck glisten in the light.

“C’mere.” It comes out as a whimper and I can only assume it’s from the dull stimulation from the vibrator. Paige reaches for my hips, helping me straddle her hips. I happily lean down to her, kissing her perfect pink lips with a smile. “Ride it.”

I take the length in my hand, my release now decorating my palm. I tease my own entrance then sink down on it slowly. The feeling is even more foreign than taking her in missionary.

Before I even get the chance to take every inch my hands fly to her chest, I plant my palms on her for stability.

“Too big?” It’s one of the first times I’m unsure if she’s serious or just teasing. I press my forehead against Paige’s, my chest heaving and breathless moans leaving my mouth.

“N—No. Jus’ full. So full, P. Fuck.” I dart my head into the crook of her neck whining like an animal as she pushes me down her cock. I swear it sits in my stomach.

Her large and veiny hands grip my ass, she starts the pace off slow, using me like a fucking toy. “Y’know I gotchu.” Paige whispers into my ear.

“It’s—mmph— so fuckin’ deep. I can’t, baby.” I moan again, trailing my hand back to her hair as if the blonde locks would ground me.

It’s like Paige’s demeanor shifted within a matter of seconds. She’d been soft all night, at least for the most part, but the way her hand slaps my ass is anything but soft. “One month with me and you can’t take dick no more? What happened, mama? You were talking all that shit—”

I cut her off by getting on my toes and the first grind of my hips shuts her up. Her groan was thick, the kind of gruff sound that made it seem like she was barely hanging on herself. The blonde nips at my collarbone.

Paige watches me like a hawk, her breathing heavy and jaw slightly slack. “M’fucking God, Raye. Ohhh shit— you’re a fuckin’ slut.” She moans. Her body falls deeper into the stack of pillows, leaning back just enough to look over my body. My tits in her face and her strap sliding in and out of my soaked cunt.

“Your s-slut tho’. Right, baby?”

“Yeah. All fucking mine, ride me like a pro.”

The way her eyes snap shut makes me work harder. I bounce on the balls of my feet, any previous inhibitions disappearing as soon as I saw how good it was for her. How her legs trembled under me.

I bite my lip in an attempt to keep quiet, much to Paige’s dismay. She reaches for my bottom lip, untucking it from my mouth and forcing her thumb inside instead. I suck on it instantly, throwing my hips down harder.

“Feels so good, P…” I mumble around her finger. “S’in my stomach.”

“I know, ma. So tight, for me.” She groans. Paige’s hips snap up into mine, instantly ruining any rhythm I had for myself. I scream erupts from my throat, one I didn’t even know I was holding back until she does it again.

Her thumb leaves my mouth, hands gripping my hips, nails digging into the skin. I meet her halfway, matching her thrusts with my grinds. “Gonna cum. Need it, baby. Needa nut in this pussy, fuck.” Paige babbles, her better judgment clouded by the need to get off.

It’s sexy. Her voice frays around the edges, suddenly becoming much more weak than before.

“You love this pussy, right, baby?”

“Mmm. Love it, love this shit. Oh my God.”

There’s only been a few times I’ve gotten to see Paige fall apart. Like fully lose all of her dominance and just lose herself. This is easily one of those times.

“Raye, I’m— fuuckkkk, you feel so good, damn.” She tosses her head back, moan after moan meeting my ears as she finishes. And there’s a part of me, that hopes all the literal inaccuracies dissipate and she does come in me. Deep inside until I’m dripping with it.

That picture makes me work faster. She’s overwhelmed, clawing at my hips but I don’t care. The need to finish myself clouds my brain.

“Ma, hold on. Fuck, hold on.”

“Needa get mine too. Don’t be selfish, P.” I grumble. I sit back on my knees, grinding my hips back and forth. I don’t hold back anything for a single second, moaning and crying out her name. Paige’s hips jerk up, and that jerk pushes me over the edge.

I squirt. Hard.

I think I go blind for a minute, nothing but stars in my vision. Paige clutches my hips, I hear the whimper that comes from her. Getting off on my own orgasm.

When I finally stop, Paige is quick to turn the vibrator off, letting out a breath I didn’t even know she was holding in. She helps me off of her and my legs, that literally feel like jelly, give out immediately. I fall to her side, and the room is filled with a comforting silence.

Paige looks at me, it was caring at first, eyes silently asking me if I was alright. To which I responded with a small nod. Then it shifts. She looks smug.

“What?”

“I took your girl virginity.” She sings, making me roll my eyes.

“I hate you.” I mutter.

“Oh I bet you do.”

[fallinallincurls]

Miles Away, I've Always Loved You

this is my entry for the 2025 winter fic exchange hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston!! thank you as always for hosting!

my fic is for @writingonleaves! i had lots of fun writing this one and really hope you love it just as much.

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 5.1k

The knock on the door startles Reagan out of her thoughts. She had been mentally trying to figure out how to organize the bookshelf in her living room now that it’s been built. 

The apartment is still mostly a mess. The move to Vancouver had been circled on her calendar for months, but Reagan knew the worst part about moving cross country completely by herself would be the unpacking and setting up of a new place. And so far, she’s been right. 

From putting together all the furniture on her own, opening and emptying box after box and feeling that same exhaustion hit her every few hours, the move has been an insane amount of work to say the least. But she couldn’t be happier knowing that she moved to this city that she’s still a little familiar with for the job of her dreams. That alone makes everything worth it.

There’s another knock at the door and Reagan lets out a deep sigh. She’s not expecting someone as no one in the city knows who she is since she just arrived three days ago. She abandons the stacks of books on the floor and heads to the door, wondering who could possibly be on the other side.

Without bothering to look through the peephole, which might’ve been a mistake, Reagan swings open the door to reveal a man she’s never seen before. He looks just a little older than her 25 years of age, has a big smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and his hair is neatly styled. Before she can even open her mouth to say anything, he’s already speaking.

“Oh, hey!” He says with an element of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know Cap had a girl, but I’m new here so I'm still trying to learn all of that, you know?”

She doesn’t know in fact because she has no idea what he’s talking about and the confusion must be evident on Reagan’s face because he continues talking in effort to explain.

“Um, I’m here for the team dinner? Apparently it’s tradition here for the captain to host everyone before training camp starts and so I brought this,” he shows you a bottle of expensive wine and then a container of store bought cookies, “and these.”

Everything the stranger standing in front of her has said only made the situation more odd. Team dinner? Tradition? He clearly mixed up numbers and is at the wrong apartment.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, but is almost immediately cut off when another voice calls out from down the hallway.

“Jake!” 

The man turns towards the voice and a look of recognition passes over his face as his smile seemingly becomes brighter at the sight of whoever said his name. 

“Q!” He says brightly, before returning his attention to her. “I’m sorry, I must’ve mixed up the apartment numbers.”

“It’s no problem.” Reagan reassures him before he waves a goodbye and starts heading to the apartment next to hers. The curiosity gets the better of her and she glances over to see who “Q” was and that’s when everything comes to a halt.

Because Q, or cap as Jake also called him, is Quinn Hughes. Her ex-boyfriend. The love of her life. And now, apparently, her next door neighbor.

Quinn must have sensed another pair of eyes on him because he looks over and meets her gaze. A look of disbelief crosses over his face for a split second, his brows furrowed in confusion as he realizes who his teammate bothered in the mixup.

“Reagan?” 

It might have been two years since the last time she saw him, but hearing her name rolling off his tongue still had the same effect on her as it did then.

“Quinn?” She asks in response, unable to comprehend that he’s standing less than 100 feet away from her. Quinn. Her Quinn. 

“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, just moved in a few days ago.” Reagan starts to explain and then a rush of worry hits her. “I finally got the job I’ve been waiting for and it just so happened to be here in Vancouver. I had no idea you lived in this building at all,”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Quinn says softly, cutting off her rambling. “Congratulations, I know how hard you worked to get through school and do everything you could to get this job.”

“Thank you.” Reagan murmurs, pushing her hair behind her ear and nervously dropping her gaze to the floor. All the heartbreak from the last few years has disappeared in the matter of seconds and it almost feels like she’s back there. In a time where they were still together and so in love with each other.

But Reagan knows that’s not her reality anymore. Now, she’s standing in her doorway looking at the man who she gave her heart to all those years ago, but now he’s almost a stranger. Just her neighbor in a new city.

“Uh, I know this is probably unexpected and way too sudden, but do you want to come over for dinner? There’s definitely enough food and everything.”

Reagan feels a wave of surprise wash over her at his offer and even though her heart is screaming to say yes, she knows she can’t accept. At least not right now.

“Thank you for offering, but I’m okay. Still trying to get adjusted and all. Another time?” She replies, trying to push away the want that’s arisen within her. She wants to spend time with him even if she hasn’t seen him in a while and her heart is still a little broken. Quinn nods in understanding, a strand of hair falling perfectly over his forehead, but Reagan sees the familiar look of sadness in his blue green eyes.

A loud yell erupts from inside Quinn’s apartment disrupting the quiet air around the two of them.

“I should probably get back. Almost the entire team is in there and I don’t trust a lot of them by themselves.” Quinn chuckles and Reagan feels a smile tug at her lips. “It was really great to see you. I hope Vancouver treats you well.”

“Thanks, Quinn. Same to you.” 

Quinn flashes you a sweet smile before ducking back inside. When the door to his apartment closes behind him, Reagan lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Not only does she have to navigate life in a new city with a new job, but now she has to handle living next to her ex, the man who was her everything, on top of everything else.

The memories that came rushing back the moment she realized it was him standing in the hallway linger in her mind for a little longer. All the shared kisses, big hugs after good and bad games, nights on the porch at the lake house in the offseason, his unwavering support for everything she did, early mornings spent cuddling and so much more. 

Reagan knew when they broke up that she would miss him for the rest of her life, but it feels like the wound has been reopened seeing him unexpectedly in person. Of course, she’s kept tabs on him by tuning into a few Canucks games and for a while, Jack was sending her regular life updates but those slowly came to an end. 

Her heart aches knowing she is going to have to see him more often now that they’re neighbors. It’s a curveball she never saw coming or even considered when she chose to move to the city that he lives and plays in. But here she is. 

With a shake of her head, Reagan clears her mind and pushes open her front door again. There’s relief that the entire interaction is over, both with Quinn and his teammate, but in a strange way, she also misses talking to him already.

Nothing could prepare her for randomly seeing the man she still loved years after he broke her heart. 

A few days later, Reagan gets a strong sense of deja vu. She’s attempting to put together the coffee table for the third time, after the first two tries were unsuccessful, when there’s a knock at her door.

A heavy sigh slips past your lips as she drops the useless IKEA instructions to the floor. She’s already preparing a little speech in her head in anticipation it’s another one of Quinn’s teammates who got the apartment numbers mixed up again.

“Hey, sorry, Quinn is-“ Reagan starts as the door swings open and reveals the blue green eyed, curly haired hockey player who lives next door. “here?” She finishes, more like a question than a statement.

“Hey,” Quinn says, flashing that soft smile that makes her heart melt. “I, um,” he pauses, almost as if collecting his thoughts to get exactly what he wants to say correct. “I know how hard it is to move to a new place by yourself having done it myself so I wanted to help with anything you need. And I brought breakfast too. Hopefully your usual order hasn’t changed.”

Reagan’s heart swells with adoration, remembering this is the version of Quinn she fell in love with. The kind, thoughtful man who continuously surprised her in ways she never thought possible. And against all odds, here he is again.

She’s stunned into silence for a few seconds, overwhelmed by his offer. It’s genuine and shows he cares even after all this time but allowing him to help means spending time with him, reconnecting, and Reagan doesn’t know if she’s ready for that just yet.

But she also really wants that coffee table to be built. So for right now, the pros outweigh the cons.

“Thank you so much, Quinn. That’s really thoughtful of you and honestly, there are a few things I’ve realized I can’t accomplish by myself no matter how hard I try.”

Quinn’s smiling genuinely now. He can’t believe she’s letting him help despite the fact they haven’t seen each other in a while minus the mixup the other day. But he doesn’t care. This is his opportunity to catch up with her and he’s going to cherish every second.

“That’s why I’m here.” He chuckles in response, handing her the iced coffee and bagel he picked up for her. “Order still the same?” He asks again, more out of curiosity than anything.

“Order’s still the same. I’m more surprised you remembered it.”

Of course he remembers it. He remembers everything about Reagan despite the fact there was a time where he wished he could forget everything about her. He remembers the show she would only watch before bed and the scent of her favorite shampoo. He remembers the feel of her hand in his and the way he always felt so safe with her in his arms. He remembers her go-to lazy dinner and the songs she loved screaming at the top of her lungs in the car.

He remembers it all. But now, Reagan feels like a stranger for so many reasons.

Quinn takes this moment to really look at her. She’s still breathtakingly gorgeous. but he notices her wavy dark brown hair is lighter than he remembers it. Maybe she got highlights or has dyed it since the breakup. There are more freckles scattered across her cheeks than there were when they met. She’s wearing an old oversized Umich shirt that he realizes at the last second might be his. But when her brown eyes meet his, any anxiety he feels about this moment falls away.

This is still Reagan. His Reagan. Yes, it’s been a while but he knows her. She hasn’t changed that much. If she’s letting him help and being friendly, maybe she doesn’t hate him like he always thought she did after the way things ended between them.

“Of course I remember it.” Quinn says with a shrug, trying not to reveal how much he misses her. “So what do you need help with first?” He asks as Reagan waves him into her apartment and closes the door behind him.

Reagan explains her dilemma with the uncooperative coffee table which takes first priority before going through a small list of things she wanted to get done today like unpack her kitchen and finish building her vanity. Quinn nods along to everything she says, seemingly happy to offer his help even if he doesn’t] have to.

“Thank you,” Reagan says softly, the two words holding more meaning than she ever thought could be possible. Quinn gives her a slightly confused look as he sits down on the floor ready to tackle the coffee table. “For everything. You didn’t have to bring breakfast over and offer to help me get settled in considering we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I really do appreciate it.” 

“I’d do anything for you, Rea.”

Hearing that one line and the use of the nickname only Quinn has ever used for her sends a shiver through her body. She feels her heart being tugged in his direction again even if it never fully healed from their end years ago, but she desperately tries to keep herself in check. Their relationship came to an end because of him. Quinn wanted to focus solely on hockey and his need to constantly get better on the ice was more important than keeping her in his life. 

So she moved on after he broke her heart. Or she thought she did until she saw him the other day. Her feelings have rushed back in no time, like nothing happened in the first place, but Reagan knows better.

“I know,” she murmurs, voice quiet as the wave of emotions hit her. “I’m going to start unpacking the kitchen. Let me know if you need any help. The instructions have been useless.” Quinn chuckles, that adorable sound filling her with a sense of happiness she hasn’t felt in so long. To this day his laugh is still one of her favorite sounds in the whole entire world.

For a good hour or so, the two of them work in comfortable silence. A random playlist Reagan selected is playing from a bluetooth speaker and every once in a while, she hears Quinn curse under his breath. She catches herself smiling a few times, the familiarity of it all bringing back so many memories. 

“Reagan?” Quinn tentatively disrupts the quiet as she’s reaching up to place a stack of plates in a cabinet above the kitchen counter. 

“Hm?” She hums in response, letting out a sign of relief when she gets the plates on the shelf. Quinn is grinning at the sight of her on her tiptoes trying to reach a higher shelf in her new home. This is something else that hasn’t changed since they were together. She still refuses to use any help to reach higher places despite being small enough that it would be beneficial. 

“Coffee table is finished.” He says, pointing over his shoulder when she turns around to look at him. “You weren’t lying about it being difficult, but it’s done.” A look of surprise crosses over her face and something about her right then makes Quinn’s heart ache. 

He knows he messed up when he broke it off with her years ago. His head was too stuck on hockey and only hockey. There was an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders after being drafted and he felt like he had to not only live up to the expectations, but defy them. And through all that, he lost the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

Reagan.

The woman who showed him unconditional love from the moment they met in college all the way through to the very end. Reagan who was there for every accomplishment and disappointment that happened in his career. The woman who always made sure he knew so many people, including her, were unbelievably proud of him at all times no matter what happened.

He never thought he would get to see her again and somehow here he is in her apartment that’s right next to his in the city that he’s been his second home for the last six years. 

“Told you I wasn’t lying.” She laughs, the sound filling Quinn with joy like it always has. “We can tackle the vanity next if you’re up for it. It’s a lot for just one person.” 

She leads him into her office where the unopened box is laying on the ground where she envisions the piece of furniture. Without a moment of hesitation, they get started on building the vanity as conversation flows freely. Quinn fills her in on everything going on with the Canucks from new teammates to how he likes being captain. She listens as he recommends some new restaurants and places to check out around the city and she fills him in on how everyone is doing back home in Michigan. Quinn asks about her new job and he can’t hide how proud he is when she tells him she got accepted into the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. 

Reagan has been playing the french horn since fourth grade and that’s the entire reason they met in college since Quinn ran into her at a UMich football game when she was part of the marching band. He remembers being struck by how pretty she was then even in the slightly unflattering bright blue and yellow uniform she was wearing with her instrument in hand. Over time as they became friends and eventually got together, Quinn learned her biggest dream was to play in a symphony. It’s difficult to get a seat anywhere, but if anyone could do it, Quinn knew it would be her. Reagan was talented, always has been, and knowing all that hard work finally paid off makes him beyond happy. 

And secretly, he’s never been so glad that the music she loves so much brought her to the city he lives in now.

“I was nervous about being accepted. It’s one of the most prestigious symphonies on the West Coast, but I was sick of being in Michigan again even if I do love it there, so I took a chance and it worked out.” Reagan explains shyly, her eyes dropping to her fiddling fingers.

“Hey,” Quinn says, abandoning the half built vanity for a second to take hold of her hands. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve that seat and it’s incredibly brave of you to pack up and move halfway across the continent to live out your dream.”

They both are aware of the unspoken words there. That it was also brave to come back to the city where their love story crashed and burned.

“Thank you, Quinny. That means a lot.” The words are barely out of Reagan’s mouth before Quinn is wrapping his strong arms around her in a tight embrace. She melts into the hug, her head resting on his shoulder and lets the comfort wash over her. Quinn lets out a small sigh of relief. He missed having her in his arms and the feeling of peace that surrounds him is unmistakable.

God, he messed up so bad by letting her go, by ruining the best thing he’s ever had because he thought he couldn’t balance the pressure of being an NHL player and a relationship at the same time. 

“Good to know Huggy Bear’s still got it.” Reagan teases him, reluctantly pulling away even if she wants to stay in his arms forever. But she can’t. She’s not that girl for him anymore.

“Yeah, yeah.” Quinn laughs, used to hearing the nickname his teammates gave him years ago when he joined the team. He meets her gaze and it’s then that an idea hits him. Reagan can see the look of hesitation in his blue green eyes, but waits patiently for him to continue. “Whenever you get settled in here and everything, would you maybe want to go skating? I know we used to go all the time and there’s this cool rink downtown you would love, but no pressure if not. I’m sure you’re going to be busy with work and adjusting to a new city.”

Reagan knows she should say no. She knows it would be better to leave the past in the past. But something about the way Quinn asks with pure honesty tugs at her and the small hope that maybe their love could get a second chance after all this time blossoms.

So she says yes.

“I would love that. Just text me when you’re free and we can schedule something.”

Quinn’s happiness at her response is immediately noticeable even though he tries to hide it so it’s not as obvious. The smile Reagan adores so much is on full display and she couldn’t be happier to have him in her half furnished apartment just days after she moved back to the city where her heart was broken.

Before she can get too swept up in the emotions, she gently pushes Quinn’s chest and giggles.

“We’ve got a list of things to do, Hughes. Get back to work.”

And with that, both of them work together to get through all the tasks Reagan wanted accomplished. That familiar sense of peace envelops the apartment and for the first time in a long time, Reagan’s heart isn’t heavy with sadness. Instead, it swells with joy like no other.

Between Quinn’s busy schedule of games, practices and traveling and Reagan’s new work schedule of getting acquainted with the symphony and joining practices of her own, it took a few weeks for them to find a day to go skating together.

But in that time, a constant stream of texts were exchanged and phone calls were made whether Quinn was next door or on the road. Reagan learned all about what happened in Quinn’s life for the two years she wasn’t part of it and heard so many stories of his teammates and his brothers, who she also missed since she hadn’t spoken to either of them since the breakup.

Quinn got a glimpse into who Reagan is now and if possible, he feels himself falling even harder for her all over again. His feelings never truly went away but every time he heard her laugh or she shared a secret, he knew that even after all that time, this girl is still the one he wants.

Finally, the agreed upon Sunday arrives and Quinn’s quiet, but strong knock sounds through Reagan’s apartment as she pulls a beanie on her head. 

“Coming!” She yells, almost tripping on her way to the door. She’s nervous and excited all at once. When the door swings open, Reagan’s breath is stolen away for a second as Quinn stands in front of her looking extra cozy and comfy bundled up for the cold. His eyes are alight with wonder and his somewhat wild brown curls are peeking out from under his favorite navy blue beanie. He has a hoodie on under his winter jacket and there’s the faintest blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Hey, Rea,” Quinn greets her with a bright smile. The old nickname still sends a jolt of happiness through her veins even though he’s used it frequently over the last few weeks and she can’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the two of them going skating together, but there is a sense of something more in the air and if there’s even a chance Quinn wants to give their relationship another chance, Reagan is all in. She can tell he’s grown and matured in the time they’ve spent apart and if she didn’t see that, it would be much easier to ignore the feelings she has for him.

“Hey!” She replies, giving him a quick hug. Quinn is a little surprised, but welcomes the embrace for a moment before she pulls away and starts speaking in excitement. “Don’t worry about skates for me, I still use my favorite pair,” Reagan lifts her white pair of Bauer skates up and then glances at her warm, but cute winter outfit, “and I’m dressed for the weather since you said the rink is outside.”

“You’re all prepared,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go then.” He says almost sheepishly like he’s nervous all of the sudden, and reaches for her hand. Reagan intertwines her gloved fingers with his and offers him a reassuring smile to silently say “this is okay.” The rink is just a few blocks away from their shared apartment building so the walk over is cold, but brief and full of laughter and conversation between the two of them.

Reagan catches a glimpse of the rink when Quinn stops walking at the opening of a large clearing and her heart starts racing.

They are at Robson Square Ice Rink. The prettiest rink in all of Vancouver in Reagan’s opinion, but it’s also her favorite and was dubbed her and Quinn’s spot when they were dating. 

“Quinn,” Reagan breathes out in disbelief. She doesn’t need to say anything else, Quinn can read all the emotions on her face. He squeezes her hand in reassurance while flashing her a sweet smile before leading her to the benches to help put her skates on. 

“Come on,” He murmurs and Reagan swallows down the emotions in an effort to take in every detail of this moment. She immediately starts unlacing her skates when they claim a spot on the bench, but Quinn insists on doing it himself.

“I can do it myself, you know.”

“I know,” Quinn replies cheekily. “But you deserve to be taken care of so let me do it even if it’s just this one time.” Reagan sighs, in pure dramatics, which makes Quinn chuckle but her heart is warm and fuzzy. This is why she fell in love with him in the first place. He’s the most caring person she knows and would do anything for her. That much clearly hasn’t changed.

Reagan keeps her eyes on Quinn as he ties her skates perfectly until he taps the heel of her right skate to signal that she’s good to go and freezes. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until it hits her.

Quinn got these skates for her years ago. They were her first pair and one of the best gifts she has ever received. But after taking them out for a few spins, she noticed that he had them customized. There was a little blue 43 printed onto the outside of the heel on her right skate which is exactly what Quinn is staring at right now.

“It’s still there.” He says quietly, tracing the two numbers before meeting Reagan’s eyes. It’s almost as if he expected her to cover the numbers up herself after the breakup and although she was angry about how everything happened, these skates are a reminder of the blissful beginning and she wanted that to remain untouched.

“Of course it is.” And just like earlier, this feels as if the simple moment holds a double meaning. As if that tiny 43 is a sign of hope for Quinn that he might get a second chance. That there’s still a spot for him in Reagan’s heart.

They share soft smiles and sit in the comfortable silence for a moment as Quinn puts his skates on. When Quinn takes her hand to help her onto the ice, Reagan lets herself be fully present. Months ago she never thought about reconnecting with the man who broke her heart, but now she couldn’t be happier that they’re friends again. She missed him beyond words.

It took a few laps around the rink to get her footing back, but once she did, she was challenging Quinn to races and constantly giggling as he tried to distract her from skating smoothly. Despite being one of the most well recognized people in the entire city of Vancouver, no one bothered Quinn on the public outdoor rink even if a few of the younger kids kept a watchful eye on him as if they recognized the captain of their favorite hockey team.

“How is it so far?” Quinn asks out of the blue as the two of them are skating at a leisurely pace. Reagan takes in the city skyline around them before meeting his gaze.

“Skating? Good! I always forget how fun it is and-”

“No,” he gently cuts you off and shakes his head, “I mean living in Vancouver. I know it’s been a huge adjustment for you.”

“Oh,” Reagan says in realization, taking a moment to think. “It’s been way better than I expected, honestly.” Quinn raises his eyebrows in surprise as an adorable smile blossoms across his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah and I have a sneaky feeling you already know you’re a big part of why that is, Quinny.” His cheeks become pink with blush and he looks down briefly before stopping the two of you for a second.

“Have you ever thought of giving us a second chance?” 

The question is like a punch to the gut. Not only because Reagan never saw it coming, but it is exactly what she’s thought of asking Quinn herself a thousand times.

Has she thought of giving them another chance? Yes. Every single day she wonders what it would be like to be his girlfriend again. To allow herself to feel the overwhelming love she has for the oldest Hughes brother. To feel at home again because he’s back in her life. And Reagan has come to realize that she wants a second chance with Quinn more than anything.

He’s proven that he has grown and matured from the man he was years ago when he shattered her heart into a million pieces. He’s shown that her life and her dreams are just as important and he’ll do anything he can to support her every single day. His love has been on display since the first moment she saw him in the hallway of their apartment building weeks ago.

“Yes. Every single day.” Reagan responds with nothing but pure honesty.

“Me too.” Quinn almost whispers, trying not to let his nerves show. He’s biting his lip, a nervous habit of his that hasn’t disappeared. “Uh, you can say no if you’re not ready or anything, but would you like to go out with me? On a proper first date? Again?” 

Instantly, a beaming smile is on Reagan’s face as his words process in her mind. It’s happening. Something she’s dreamed of for so long, it’s real.

“I’d love that, Quinn.” She hugs him tight, relishing in the joy rushing through her veins. Nothing could make this moment any better and when Quinn kisses her temple, also feeling the happiest he’s been in a long time, everything in the world feels right again.

[baronboar]

This time let's circle back to equity later and focus on some basics! What's up with TAILS?

Transcript under the cut:

1. First of all, why do the people in a setting even need tails? Humans don't have tails for a number of reasons, we don't chase prey so we don't need it to help us change direction like a rudder. We also don't climb trees so we don't need one for keeping hold of branches or for balance. But in a world of megafauna, maybe you need a tail to help you turn fast to flee? Or maybe a hunter needs a rudder to swim? But most importantly!! It's fun & helps your people feel unique!

[IMG: A an anthro rat and sea lion, the rat is leaning over in a similar fashion to the sea lion who naturally stands horizontally like a T-rex. This shows how they both can use tails as counter balance.]

Think about why species in a setting might have tails and perhaps you will think of something that adds depth to your world… For warmth, like a blanket! To increase visibility when foraging! For Combat!!!

[IMG Three tails, a big fluffy artic fox tail, a tall lemur tail, and a spiny draconic tail.]

2. Clothing is the main issue I see brought up when discussing tails & Furgonomics. many solutions can be found when looking at furry artwork, so look around! The only solution i'd say is not valid is…The belt under the tail.

[IMG: a tailed person from behind, their jeans are below the tail, you can see their butt cheeks.] [IMG: Two illustrations of human femurs with tails, the spine points them downwards.]

A tail would sit far too low to comfortably wear trousers there, imagine wearing yours below the pelvis at your hips? Even with a belt that is far too risqué! The best solutions all put the waistband above the tail and either have a hole for the tail or in the case of clothing like dresses and skirts allow the tail to sit freely beneath.

[IMG: Three different people with different garments. The first is labelled 'breech cloth', it's a Y shaped cut of fabric attached to the waist by a string. The second is labelled 'sarong', the feline figure from the side has a length of fabric around the belly with a length hanging down over their pubic area like a loin cloth. The third is the most like trousers/pants, the belt keeps shut a flap that goes over the base of the tail that overlaps with the tail hole.]

In my setting of Firnus different cultures have their own designs to fit environmental needs. The Gilter braghe is a sleeveless trouser designed with modesty in mind. compare this to the rav breechcloth, made for wearing under robes. Or avoid the tail hole all together and beat the heat with the pantheran quarter sarong!

3. So where else can tails be a problem…? CHAIRS.

[IMG: Two normal chairs, they have back rests but also gaps between that and the seat.]

most people are going to jump immediately to seats like these:

But i'm going to make my case as to why this would not be comfortable: See this dog skeleton to the right? When a quadrupedal animal sits, they don't rest on their upper legs or put any pressure on their fragile tails, Instead they rest on their hocks & hind feet! Why? Exactly as we discussed with trousers, tails wouldn't go out, they'd go down. As part of the spine, if you wanted to sit back in a chair your spine would be vertical.

[IMG: A dog skeleton from the side.] [IMG: A small concerned mustelid says: "Sitting on your tail would feel like bending your fingers backwards with your full body weight!"]

…So, I believe anthro species wouldn't want to put pressure on their tails by sitting on them… So we cut a hole out from the bottom and back of the chair, right? Yes! and no. Yes because when you're world building you can do whatever works best for you! But no because I'm not satisfied with this answer and I'm driving this PNG!!!! So how do we fix this? Let's see why chairs even exist in the first place!

[IMG: a chair like the ones above with a half circle cut from the back of the seat.]

4. The earliest (known) chairs come from the 2nd dynasty of Egypt during the Thinite period. These chairs were as short at the seat as 10 inches! …But like, Why? as a status symbol! These caught on as nobility wished to copy kings, and then the common people copied nobility. They're also useful to keep your clothes clean and prevent you from resting on cold or wet ground.

[IMG: Two desert foxes, one on a chair is joyfully sitting upon a chair, covered in gold adornments like a pharaoh. He says: 'I'm sitting higher! So I'm better than you!' The other fox looks concerned, wears no gold as she kneels and says: 'Hm.']

But we don't need kings!! If you want something for similar use without those connotations. Here's some options:

[IMG: Two people sitting on a bench and a large plush pillow as well as a rectangular cushion that's rolled up.]

Kneeling! While many cultures use this to show reverence, few still kneel for comfort.

Benches and stools! Before chairs became affordable for the average person simpler furnishings were commonly used. These don't have tricky tail holes to fumble around with and can be as simple as a plank.

cushions! A thick pillow or rolled rug would allow a person to sit cross-legged without their tail pressing down against a hard surface.

Think about who needs chairs, where they'd be used, and the answer will come naturally! Have fun world building!

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

Remus blinked rapidly upon seeing the drink, he stared at it for several moments before he suddenly burst up laughing. Sure, he felt shitty, but he couldn't help but to laugh at this situation. He reached over to grab the cup, then he held it up. "Ems..." He said through his laughter. "I meant something I can hit. Not a drink."

"Yes, you did, but you could've told us why. The boss is not happy that you kept this a secret from him. He told me I can have fun with your hole." Logan smirked, "And I just might accept his offer." He chuckled as he went over to sit between Romans legs. "He doesn't want someone, he wants you. And he's going to have you, whether you like it or not." Logan adjusted the metal device so it would spread Romans hole even wider, so wide, that his folds were turning red. He shoved two fingers in this time to explore around...and that's when he felt it.

"What the..." Logan paused, then he attempted to grab the device inside of roman with his fingers. It took a moment, but he managed to grab it, then he just...yanked it out with all his strength. Yikes, he definitely damaged something doing that, surely? But, once it was out, he stared at the device.

"This... But it's just a simple IUD... Even if that's the case, it shouldn't make you completely dry. That's..." Logan picked up his phone again and started calling Virgil again.

"Boss, I found something. An IUD. I pulled it out so it won't be blocking the eggs anymore. But that doesn't explain why he is so dry. This device was probably put in, I would say, a few years ago, but I'm seeing signs that there were never any signs of eggs, ever. At least one or two eggs would break through an IUD in the few years, but I'm not even seeing that..." Logan chewed his lip, "I'm worried that he may actually be infertile... I'll see what I can do, but I figured I would give you an update."

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2

[revelboo]

HOW DAre you make me like tfa Blitzwing! 😠😵 (JK love you)

He’s fun to write, but very unstable

Hello Helicopter Pt 4

TFA Blitzwing x Reader

• How are you able to do that? You’re nothing. Just a fragile, little human. Venting, he reaches out to nudge you with a servo and you put up with it even as he gently pushes you over. Why don’t you lash out? Fight back. Run. Say something. “I don’t like to be ignored,” he says, struggling for reason amid the impulsive hunger. And pressing his servo gently against your middle makes calm spill through him until he’s shuddering.

• Like there’s any ignoring him. He’s sitting in the floor, his chin on the berth and a big servo pinning you flat on your back. Playing docile had seemed like the best idea until you can figure out how to escape from him. Which meant letting him idly prod at you while doing an uncomfortable amount of staring. Does he think you’ll do a trick if he just keeps poking at you? “No one’s ignoring you.” Don’t mean to say that but you’re so tired and fear had slid into resigned exhaustion hours ago. If he was going to hurt you, he probably would have by now.

• Keeping you carefully pinned, he can feel the beat of your heart, the steady rhythm sinking into his spark. “Why did I need you?” He asks, not sure if he’s asking you or himself. Because he’s not sure what his fascination with you is, only that it’s almost obscene. Shouldn’t want you. But that need is a constant hum through his lines like an addiction.

• “Does there have to be a reason?” Not sure what he’s wanting, but wary of his mood swings. His temper. Needing him to stay calm, because he’s easier to deal with like this. “Maybe you were just lonely?” Or horny. Your money is on horny.

• And he’s laughing uncontrollably, snatching his hand away from you and pushing himself back from that soft voice. Head thrown back as he sits in the floor. Angry and cackling, hands covering his face. Because you’d struck a nerve, feels it chiming through his spark. Hates it. Oh, Primus he hates it. “You don’t know me. Little mouse, sweet, sad mouse,” he says, laughing, rolling to his knees as his mood shifts, the personalities clawing for control as he seizes the chair from his desk and slings it at the door. Hears your startled noise as you scurry to the far end of the berth, and there’s a flicker of guilt.

Previous

[demonic0angel]

Jazz and Dani doing fun girly stuff with Cass and Steph at a slumber party.

“Sooo… any secrets to tell? Tea to spill? Gossip to share?” Steph asked, as she sat still while Cass delicately painted her fingernails a muted autumn orange.

Jazz, as she sat behind her and brushed her hair, sighed and said, “I wish I could tell, but it’s patient-doctor confidentiality.”

“Ooh!” Dani said, from where she was sitting on the ground and trying to figure out the homemade face mask machine. “I got one! Remember the other day when we all went shopping together at the mall center and we had to save that really nice girl with the stalker friend? Yeah, I found out that her girlfriend stepped in to help her, so now that ex-best friend is pissed and going on social media to try and expose her!”

Steph gasped, but Cass held on tight to her wrist, finishing the pinky finger nail with a flourish. When she let go, Steph flapped her hands and cried out, “No way! Has it been working?”

“On Facebook, yeah. On anywhere else? Not a chance,” Dani snorted, before cheering, “Yes!” as the face mask machine finally started working, creating a face mask with the homemade ingredients they put in.

Cass remarked, “The best friend is a bad friend.”

Jazz sighed and nodded, finishing Steph’s hairstyle with a plaited braid. “I feel so bad for her. Her ex-best friend clearly needs help but no one is willing to step in but the girl’s girlfriend!”

Jazz then moved to sit behind Dani and braid her hair as Steph instructed Cass to take out her laptop so they could watch a movie.

“Thank goodness I never had to deal with a stalker best friend like that!” Steph breathed a sigh of relief.

Cass stared at her. Steph paused, meeting her eyes in confusion before she had a look of realization and then reassured her, “Of course, you’re my best friend, Cass. It’s different because your entire family are stalkers.”

Cass nodded, appeased before pulling up a movie.

“Let’s watch a horror movie. No, wait, a ghost movie!” Dani proposed, taking out the face mask and layering it on Cass’ face, who accepted it without protest. Jazz quickly tied off her hair, which was formed into double Dutch braids, when she stood up.

Steph tapped her chin with a finger, pausing only when Jazz gave her a warning look. Sheepishly, she stopped to preserve her nails and she said, “If we used an ouija board and tried to call for the nearest spirit, do you think Dani would be able to communicate with us without having to go ghost?”

They all stared at each other.

Then Jazz stood up and said, “I’ll find the ouija board. Bruce has one in the living room, right?”

Cass answered, “Under the Monopoly.”

“Got it! Pause on the movie, let’s experiment first!”

Stephanie snorted. “Nails, face masks, hair braiding, gossiping, horror movies and experimentation. What’s not to love about sleepovers?”

[wtfaniii]

Little Cheater

Summary: You are twelve years old and you accompany your father to work, there was no one who could take care of you so he had no other option, there you meet a new friend.

Warning: Nothing, just something outside the series to focus on this wonderful man with purple hair, also, there will be some non-canon things.

Based on this request!

Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x little friend

Your eyes continued to watch with curiosity and interest the huge screen in front of you that showed a bunch of people dressed in the same uniform playing "green light, red light."

—¿Why can't I play with them? —You asked, pointing at the screen while your father put on a black hood and the mask with the square figure depicted in the center.

—They are not children's games —He responded without much encouragement while putting his gun in his pants pockets.

—That's just what it is ¡You see! —You said with irony, getting up from the bed you were sitting on —¿Can I go play?

Your father snorted under the mask, seeing you with the arms crossed. ¿Why did he bring you here to begin with? Your mother was probably hooking up with some other idiot and he hadn't been able to get a babysitter in a matter of hours, you shouldn't be here and yet you were standing in front of him demanding that he let you into those games.

—No, Stay here, I'll be back in a couple of hours.

It was him last thing he said before leaving the room but you were disobedient, you were definitely not going to stay there watching adults having fun playing while you were sitting on that bed.

So you sneaked out of the room and walked without stopping until you managed to find a door guarded by two pink guards with the triangle symbol emblazoned on their respective masks.

—¿Can I come in and play? —You asked with a wide smile showing your white teeth.

That gesture always worked to get the adults to do what you wanted but these guards remained silent without moving an inch.

You sighed and took a wad of bills from your dress pocket, money you had secretly taken from your father's wallet.

—¿Can I come in?

Once again the guards remained silent for a few seconds until one of them took the money and opened the door for you. "Walk until you reach a blue metal door, ask the guard to let you in" He told you seriously. You nodded and walked even further into the facilities until you reached said door where they finally allowed you to enter.

Inside there were many beds and the players were scattered talking or simply sitting without much encouragement, you didn't understand why but you didn't care and you walked among them, you walked until one of them caught your attention a guy with purple hair who seemed to be rapping sitting on a ladder with another player next to him.

You walked towards him and put on your best smile.

—Hi... —You greeted quietly but keeping your smile, you were curious and quite intelligent but when it came to socializing with others you were very shy and that was because your schoolmates picked on you.

—Hey... —Thanos looked up at you with a curious look —¿What are you doing here? ¿Did they bring you here too? ¿What kind of debts could a girl your age have?

—I have no debts —You said walking towards him softly while you also looked at him with curiosity —¡I like your hair!

Thanos nodded and continued making movements with his hands while he continued rapping under your attentive gaze. He believed that you would leave if he didn't pay attention to you, but when he saw you fascinated with his verses, he had greater motivation, considering you his small audience.

You laughed with some rhymes until another black-haired player with the number 124 approached you.

—¿What are you doing here girl? —He crouched down to be at your eye level with a mocking smile —¿Aren't you afraid of being here?

You stepped back, seeing him judging.

—¿How old are you? ¿eight? —Again he mocked, taking a step forward to intimidate you.

—¡I have twelve!

He laughed at your response and was going to make another mocking comment but before he could do so, Thanos snapped his fingers, drawing both of attention.

—It's not cool at all to bully a twelve year old girl —He said, motioning for you to sit next to him, to which you quickly went with him —Señorita, don't let this moron scare you, he's just as nervous as everyone here, ¿Right Nam Su?

—It's Nam Gyu —He corrected him making a nervous movement with his hands.

—It's the same —Thanos continued playing with his verses while you listened to him.

You also tried to rhyme a few times but when you couldn't, he laughed at your failed attempts.

—¿How do you do it? ¿Will you teach me? —You asked frustrated after several failed attempts.

—This is an art, little lady, and don't learn it, are born with it —He says, puffing out his chest with pride and moving his hands in front of your face in an exaggerated way, making you laugh again

—¡You're funny!

He smiled at you genuinely, everyone say that all children tell the truth and if you managed to empathize with him in just one hour that means that he is a great man and that fueled his pride.

—¿Do you want to play with me? —You asked with a shy smile as you played with the fingers of your hands.

—¿Play? —He asked curiously, the drugs had diminished considerably from his system so he was already calmer sitting next to you

—¡Yeah! My dad gave me this so I don't get bored, I play solitary but now you can play with me —You said excitedly, taking out a game of cards from the pocket of your dress.

Thanos nodded and settled in his place to be in front of you, his mind still did not fully understand how a girl your age was here, you were not wearing a uniform and you looked so calm that he doubted that you really knew what was happened in this place.

Still he kept his mouth shut and started playing with you after dealt the cards, you was adorable and very friendly, in a way you reminded him of himself as a child.

As time went by you were winning in each round, he was surprised.

—¿How do you know how to play this so well? You're barely twelve —He asked with a frown while scratching his head in frustration for not having won a single round.

—Dad taught me once —You were intelligent and you memorized things quickly, that's why you also knew many things about this place even if your innocence proved otherwise.

He continued playing against you, he was not going to give up until he won a game and that led him to complain and accuse you of being a cheater after each round lost due to a large difference in points, causing you to only laugh.

Lunch time was announced and Thanos went to pick up his food along with his team, leaving you on the stairs while you put away your cards with the intention of continuing to play later, however a guard approached you.

—Your father wants you to leave immediately and return to the room —Said the stranger sternly.

—But I don't want to go yet.

—I don't think you have a choice.

You pouted and looked towards Thanos and the guard randomly forming a plan in your little head.

After a couple of seconds you smiled innocently and ran to where your purple-haired friend was, you knew there would be consequences when you returned to your father but for now you wanted to continue in this place, it was the first time you made a friend and you didn't were ready to leave him so soon.

The guard was going to follow you, he had clear instructions and if he let you go the punishment would probably be for him but as soon as he took a few steps the boss's voice sounded in his earpiece.

"Leave her" Your father said in an authoritative voice and giving the order to the guard to leave, he was not happy to leave you there and even less so with that specific player but he did not want to make you unhappy either, he saw you laughing and talking to someone unknown, someone other than him and your mother and that was somehow encouraging, if player 230 could help you socialize more maybe he could overlook this lack.

Although he himself would also put his authority at risk with the frontman

—Hey, ¿What happens? —Thanos asked when you suddenly arrived and hugged him around the waist while pressing your right cheek to his stomach.

—Nothing, I just like you —You said with a triumphant smile as you watched the guard leave.

He brushed it off and kept you by his side during the line despite Nam Gyu's protests, Se mi and Min Su also liked you but you were more attached to Thanos.

As night fell... He was barely settling into his respective bed when he saw you sitting on the side and leaning against the wall.

—¿Aren't you going to sleep?

—I'm afraid to sleep up there alone —You admitted looking towards the bunk beds where there was an empty bed on top that had been left for you.

He wasn't going to allow you to spend the night on the floor, you weren't going to sleep well and seeing you nod off from exhaustion he deduced that you were also more asleep than awake.

He got out of bed and went to you to carefully pick you up and place you in him bed where you quickly fell asleep, Thanos covered you with the blanket and placed the pillow under your head.

A small laugh caught him attention and he looked up to find Se mi with a hand on his mouth to muffle his laughter, watching him with a tender look.

—Looks like you made a friend —She said smiling, caressing your hair.

He smiled softly, she was right, you were his friend but he wasn't going to say it out loud so he answered the following.

—She is the leader of my fan's club, I have to be good to her —He made sure you were comfortable and sat on the floor next to you, it would be a long night for him without a bed but he put your comfort first.

Anyway... you would tell him what the next games were going to be at dawn, you were going to cheat but it was inevitable, you grew fond of that fun guy.

And without realizing it, that affection he got from you could be a possibility to get out of that place alive.

[hyperions-light]

@uchidachi requested I do this one, and now that the activity around it has calmed down a bit, I thought it’d be fun!

I’ve briefly considered this topic before, but thinking about it for longer I’m pretty sure that if Lucanis or Neve brought this up (lbr here, it’d be Lucanis) it would start a fight lol

Marriage sounds like it involves a whole bunch of things Leth doesn’t like such as

-rules

-legal proceedings

-interacting with authority figures

-politics

However, they do love parties and wearing fancy clothes, so it has that going for it.

Putting the rest under the cut, bc long lol

But I think ultimately the idea would kind of freak them out, because then like… what about Teia and Viago? They have a weird situationship going on that they don’t want to give up or have to think too hard about, and marriage might complicate it. Being freaked out would immediately cause them to start an argument, and then they’d probably run away and hide for some amount of time. (Leth’s instincts always say: fight until you can run, run until you can hide)

If they were eventually convinced (hard but not impossible) it would have to be a wedding where all three of them get married, because they'd think it was unfair, otherwise.

And then probably Lucanis would regret his decision because it would turn into the biggest, most elaborate party in the history of Treviso. Leth has never even met half of the people who show up. Teia is over the moon because any wild, extravagant thing she suggests Leth will enthusiastically cosign. Everyone is invited. EVERYONE. It should be a huge security risk because so many Talons (and the Black Divine and the Archon) are in the same place at once but everyone is so heavily armed it would be suicide to attack them. They probably ask Solas if he and Lavellan want to stop holding the sky together briefly so they can come too. Yes, the necromancers can bring the Necropolis skeletons. Of course Vorgoth is invited! Tell uncle Eldrin to bring the griffons!

Probably the only thing that Leth would actually debate with Teia about is clothes. They don't want to wear a dress (they aren't as good at stabbing people in them. What if they have to stab someone?), they want NEVE to wear a dress. There is a LOT of debating back and forth about color schemes and fabrics and tailoring. I think it's like Divine Conclave level serious; Teia and Leth are locked in a room for a week and everyone else goes in and out periodically looking utterly exhausted. They figure it out eventually, though. They find the right shades of purple and turquoise so that everything looks cohesive.

I think the biggest Issue with the wedding is probably politics. There's the Crow house alliance to worry about, which Viago would get huffy over, and there's Caterina. Viago is very convinced that if Leth is around Caterina for any substantive period of time, they are going to annoy her into killing them, so he's spent a lot of time impressing on them that they should stay tf away from her. But she's going to be their grandmother-in-law now! There's probably a lot of traditions to fulfill, like formal meetings and interviews and evaluations and dinners which will stress Lucanis out! Leth endures it with uncomfortable bemusement. They only irritate Caterina a moderate amount-- she definitely whacks them with that cane at least once. It's fine, though! Leth likes grumpy people and is good at dodging.

I think the celebration is like... Carnival or Mardi Gras, essentially. It lasts a week, no one leaves when they're supposed to, everyone is horribly inebriated. They need healers because the Lords of Fortune tried to play their drinking game in the canals and got sick immediately. People show up late; they go and come back and somehow the party is still happening. Lucanis, Neve and Viago definitely tap out at some point-- meanwhile, Teia, Illario, Isabela, and Leth are having an amazing time! It's sort of also a party to celebrate the apocalypse being averted?

I think Taash would make it through the whole time, Davrin would last a while but he has to do Griffon Wrangling eventually. Emmrich is out after like day two. Manfred would stay the whole time. Bel would have fun but I think she would get burned out on it eventually. I think all the faction leaders show at some point, but they also either 1) have stuff to do 2) do NOT want to spend a week in the middle of this chaos, so I think probably by the end it's just Teia and Isabela left.

Leth brings some of Harding's fade plants to decorate the venue and hand-delivers an invitation to Harding's mom. They order a barrel of that nasty shit they serve in the Hanged Man, and pour one out for Varric-- maybe Bianca sneaks in there at some point. There's probably a dramatic reading of Varric's least favorite book, just so Leth can annoy him in the afterlife.

I think it ends up sort of cathartic for everyone? Like, the wedding is why they come, but everyone needs to unwind from all the terrible shit that happened.

I think the actually romantic part is probably after, during the honeymoon. They just go somewhere quiet and isolated where Leth can make sure their two workaholic partners do absolutely nothing productive for two uninterrupted weeks. Treviso and Docktown will be okay without them, for a minute-- Viago and Elek promised.

Also after that Leth is bringing Lucanis and Neve to meet their clan, because they don't live with them anymore, but that doesn't mean they aren't important. Maybe the quiet, sincere version of the ceremony happens there, with nobody else around? And Leth is bullying them into matching tattoos, which they will do themself.

Hey, hope you all had a good weekend! Unfortunately, it’s Monday =/ Fortunately, it’s time for Rook Intro Hour! 🍀🌺🌼🌸

How it works: I ask you a question about your Rook(s) and you answer it with as much brevity or verbosity as you desire. You can do this whenever you want, and I’ll reblog it + add some comments! There’s no time limit— if you want to do the older ones, they are collected here! (The post is updated on Fridays!)

Today’s Question(s): Does your Rook want to get married to their LI(s)? Do they care about where? Is there a specific tradition/traditions they want to follow, when they do? Who would they invite? What would they wear?

Have fun & thanks for sharing!

[bonefall]

Oh I actually love Angelshade as a name for that grim sibling, it invokes a sort of angelic facade for something darker underneath to me, y'know?

While we're on the Snowtuft subject- is there a Snowtuft-kin motif? I feel like there's already a lot of focus on how being related to Snowtuft affects his descendants, so it'd check out. Is Snowtuft channeled by anyone once he goes to the Dark Forest?

I figured it was best to start with Snowtuft himself, so I did some sketches trying to find something for him to pass down through the generations. Most folks tend to give him a "poof" of fur on the top of the head, but I like manes so much that I kinda wanted to avoid "defaulting" to them, y'know?

A bundle of sketches later, I did some ear tufts in a way I think would be fun to play with. So, for now, the official "Family Trait" the Snowkin Lineage carries is these distinctive "ear puffs."

I might revise these, though. Blackstar has the iconic black hood and points which would also make for a great family trait, but I couldn't think of how to work that back into a line of cats who's pure white. Maybe I'll put colors on their paws and muzzles, and the "ear tufts" will sort of split away from the line that leads to Blackstar.

(Since Blackstar doesn't have the tufts, which is kind of the point.)

Design and extra stuff;

Lilyfur's ear fluffs are actually based on the yellow center of a lilypad flower, and I couldn't help but give her little lilypad eyebrows.

Even though they look like pacmans <3

If I go with the idea of points, she'll be having pale yellow paws and a tail.

The family's fur is extremely thick and oily. Most of them are very smooth and well-groomed, Snowtuft's kind of unkempt in comparison.

I've seen Silk/Angel described as "The Chad Cat from Rise of Scourge" so I felt like it was a crime to leave out his ridiculous jawbones.

I also made his eyes super light to match canon. If I ever did alter his colors, I'd want to make those pale orange.

EDIT: Oh, and, lastly, Snowtuft is actually not channeled very often. He is the sort of spirit who would massively disappoint the one who went through the trouble and blasphemy to do so, because he doesn't remember the parts of his life he wanted to forget.

You can remind him of those parts of his life, but the more that comes back to him, the more upset he will get until he's just kind of crying about it. It's extremely uncomfortable for someone who's definitely trying to get in touch with him because they think killing babies is cool.

[malk1ns]

february 1 vs predators, 3-0 win

a shutout? for us? is that allowed?

there is an unspecified age gap in this fic—i don't know exactly how old geno is in it, but he's younger than mario (b. 1965) is. mario purchased the penguins in fall 1999, about a month before he turned 34, and geno can't have been too young to be financially involved in that, so...maybe he's around jagr's (b. 1972) age? that would make him somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 years older than sid. let's go with that.

also in this world he got his hair transplant done when he was way younger and it's thrived ever since. i like picturing him as a silver fox 😋

When Zhenya went in with Mario on putting up money to keep the Penguins in Pittsburgh, he never imagined a day where he’d be spending more time around the team than Lem did.

It was an easy decision at the time. The team was so badly mismanaged, and Zhenya had no desire to see the Penguins forcibly moved because their owners didn’t know how to manage a TV deal or sign sponsors. He didn’t want to move, and more importantly the fanbase didn’t deserve it. He figured he’d put up the money and let the lawyers figure out whatever they needed to to so he could keep playing, and when he retired he’d have a nice little stream of income no matter what he wanted to do.

He had no interest in the care and feeding of a professional hockey organization, not like Mario did. Mario stayed out of the GM’s day-to-day business for the most part, but whenever Zhenya met him for dinner, it was clear that the Penguins still ruled his life, the same way they had when the two of them were playing.

Zhenya stayed in Pittsburgh for Mario while he was playing. Even back when he was purchasing the team, he always assumed he’d move back to Russia, showing up for big events and (hopefully) Cup wins, but living his own life and enjoying himself.

Well, things don’t always work out the way we imagine. One knee surgery, and then another, ended his career earlier than he’d planned, and Mario talked Zhenya into sticking around and helping with player development before he could tuck tail and run back to Russia.

Almost twenty-five years later, and he’s still here. Oh, he travels plenty—there’s no point in retiring if you’re still beholden to coming into work every day, after all. Especially early on Zhenya spent probably more than his fair share of time flitting between tropical islands and enjoying the fruits of being young, athletic, and rich. But Pittsburgh had worked its way into his blood and bones, and he always comes home.

He’s been home a lot more frequently since about 2008.

Attending games as team owner is fun. He has his own box that he gets to invite whoever he wants into, and fans are still so eager to take pictures with him, starry-eyed over both the Cups he brought the town when he and Lem were still playing and his ‘team savior’ status. For years, he and Mario would sit and watch games together, waving when the cameras panned up to them and chatting.

Now, Mario barely comes anymore. Zhenya was more than happy to sell when Ron and Mario approached him about it—he’d still own some shares, he’d been assured, enough to have his opinion considered, but the brunt of decision-making would be removed from their shoulders. Zhenya was fine with that. They made a tidy profit, Zhenya still gets treated like royalty at PPG and anywhere in the league, and the responsibility of running a team that’s reaching the end of its golden age is no longer his.

He’s not clear what, exactly, went wrong between Mario and the guys with FSG. Mario won’t talk about it, and Zhenya doesn’t care to hear anyone else’s side of the story.

The result is, Zhenya’s the most consistent link to the old days that the fanbase has. In Mario’s absence, he’s found himself at more games over the last couple of seasons than probably the previous decade combined. He still watched, obviously, kept up with the team and was there for the players when necessary, but he was a more frequent presence at practice, helping out the coaching staff or chatting with the Euro scouts when they were in town than putting on a suit to sit in his box.

It’s exhausting. Zhenya’s face hurts from smiling politely some nights, and he’s sick of shaking hands with rich businessmen who want to take a picture with him but don’t actually give a shit about what he has to say.

There are perks, though.

His team is back from a long road trip, and Zhenya’s looking forward to seeing them play in person. He’s spent a lot of time with Kyle Dubas this season learning about his plan for the future, and losing is part of it, but as hard as the bad losses are there are always bright spots.

Halfway through the second period, Zhenya gets to watch one of his favorite bright spots in person for the first time in almost two weeks.

He’s always liked watching Sid score from one knee. It’s a statement goal, a fuck-you to a league that spent the first few years of Sid’s career beating the shit out of him and expecting him to say thank you and shut up. He never did.

“Damn,” Hörnqvist says with feeling as Zhenya leans back in his seat and whistles. “I forgot how that looks. How is he still so good?”

Zhenya shrugs, tracing Sid’s path across the ice to go down the fistbump line. He can make out Sid’s sharp smile from all the way up here, and his stomach flips over.

He’s missed watching the Penguins in person, yes. He’s missed Sid more. 

“Robot, maybe,” he says in answer to Horny, who laughs loud and bright.

Zhenya spent a lot of time around the team during the back-to-back years. They had so many injuries, and when Mario gave Jim the go-ahead to fire Johnston in 2015 the team had been fragile. He’d gotten to know those guys really well, and he’s always liked Horny. When he confirmed he’d be in town for his bobblehead night, Zhenya had been quick to invite him to sit up in the owner’s suite.

They’ve been having a good time. Horny’s just as exuberant as he ever was, and Zhenya’s been able to relax instead of putting on a show for whatever bigwigs FSG saddled him with that night. He’s even let himself have a few drinks, wrinkling his nose at the wine on offer but downing it anyway.

Mario’s horrendously expensive taste in wine crept up on Zhenya after all these years, even though he tried to resist it.

He’s distracted the rest of the game, chatting with Horny and leaning around the wall to take a selfie with some kid in the next box over with half his mind down on the ice, on Sid’s fantastic goal and how he looks after a good win.

The Penguins secure the shutout, and when the jumbotron flashes Zhenya and Horny on the screen, the crowd goes wild. Horny waves and flashes his megawatt smile, and Zhenya gestures to him with a flourish, applauding long and loud right in Horny’s ear until Horny’s shoving at him playfully.

It’s perhaps not dignified for an owner to get into a fake wrestling match in his suite while on camera, but the crowd loves it, and Zhenya’s done much more embarrassing things to please the people of Pittsburgh.

He wants to make his way down to the locker room, but that’s not his place anymore, no matter how much he wants to congratulate the guys. Zhenya’s far removed enough from the current roster that his presence makes a lot of the guys nervous, and that’s the last thing he wants.

It’s easy enough to wait by Sid’s car with his hat pulled low over his face instead.

“Forgot where you parked?” comes Sid’s teasing voice, and Zhenya pockets his phone and straightens, opening his arms.

Sid doesn’t even look around the parking lot before he steps into Zhenya’s embrace.

“Missed you, лапоч��а,” Zhenya murmurs into Sid’s hair, running his hands over Sid’s back. “Long trip.”

Sid sighs against Zhenya’s chest. “Tell the league to not do that to us next year,” he requests with a little whine, sagging into Zhenya’s hold.

Zhenya laughs. The league doesn’t listen to him. They don’t like foreign owners.

“Good goal,” he says instead, stepping back and cupping Sid’s face in his hands. Sid looks tired, which is to be expected, but his eyes are bright. “Everyone in arena likes, Horny says to me how’s he still so good, like, maybe he’s not human.”

Sid grins at that, an echo of the same sharp smile Zhenya saw on the ice. He’s as humble as they come, but Zhenya’s praise has always gotten him to puff out his chest a little. “And what did you say?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head.

He flirts like he did when he was 18 and desperately trying to catch Zhenya’s eye when they would stay late to practice face-offs. Almost 20 years later and with a head full of graying hair, and Zhenya’s as much of a sucker for it now as he was then.

“Mmm,” Zhenya says, grabbing at Sid and reeling him back in, taking a big exaggerated squeeze of Sid’s ass. “I tell him I know you’re real boy, I check very carefully almost every day.”

Sid makes a sweet little sound in Zhenya’s ear. “Take me home,” he requests, and Zhenya drags him over to Zhenya’s own car, installing Sid in the passenger seat and tearing out of the player’s garage.

Sid has a lot of responsibilities. He’s carried an unfair burden ever since he stepped into the league, eighteen years old and the weight of an entire league on his shoulders. He’s risen to the challenge time and again with maturity and grace, wise beyond his years and an example for kids all across North America who dream of making the show.

With Zhenya, he has a space to let them go.

It took a few years before Zhenya did more than just look. He felt like a dirty old man at first, although thankfully that feeling has waned over the years, and he refused to touch Sid until after they lost to the Red Wings in a game six heartbreaker on home ice and Sid showed up at Zhenya’s house, red-eyed and shaking and needing to get out of his head.

It’s real, Zhenya knows that. It’s not some latent perversion, although Sid’s youth and relative inexperience had been appealing. Nearly twenty years later, though, Zhenya would dare anyone to call what they have anything besides true love.

That doesn’t mean he and Sid don’t like things a certain way sometimes.

Zhenya drives with his palm high on Sid’s thigh, digging his fingers in and listening as Sid’s breath speeds up the closer Zhenya’s fingers get to his dick. He doesn’t dare look over, but he can picture Sid’s face well enough.

Sid’s hard by the time they pull into Zhenya’s driveway. He lives further back in the woods than Sid and Mario do, tucked into a large copse of trees that makes his house practically invisible from his neighbors, and Sid likes the privacy, the way he can kiss Zhenya in the front yard and nobody will see them.

When Zhenya cuts the engine, Sid practically crawls over the center console to get at him. They didn’t fit in Zhenya’s little sports cars like this even when Sid was younger and not as bulky as he is now, but it doesn’t stop Sid from trying his best.

“Baby, inside,” Zhenya urges, fumbling for his seatbelt and kicking his door open. Sid’s hot on his heels, and when they’re inside the house he pulls Zhenya down into a kiss before they can even get their shoes off.

“I missed you watching me,” he breathes against Zhenya’s mouth, and Zhenya groans, wrestling them out of their jackets and dragging Sid to his office. He knows what Sid wants when he gets like this.

There’s a leather armchair in the corner that Zhenya’s had for longer than Sid’s been a legal adult. It’s huge and broken-in and comfortable, and Zhenya has it positioned so that it has a great view of his trophy case. It’s a nice reminder of everything he’s accomplished, when he wants to relax and read a book in here.

Sid likes it for different reasons.

Zhenya sinks into the chair, loosening his tie and sprawling his legs wide, tipping his head back and groaning as he palms himself through his trousers. Sid makes a desperate little sound from where he’s standing by the desk, and Zhenya cracks an eye open and pats his thigh.

Sid crawls into his lap, straddling Zhenya’s legs and scrambling to undo Zhenya’s fly.

“Shh, shh, calm down,” Zhenya soothes, bringing his hands to Sid’s waist and drawing him down. Sid’s frantic against him, but Zhenya nips at his plush mouth and holds him in place until he calms down, letting Zhenya kiss him until their lips are tacky with spit.

“Please,” Sid gasps when Zhenya pulls back, and Zhenya untucks Sid’s shirt from his pants, undoing each button and kissing at the bare skin underneath. Sid’s skin is covered in goosebumps by the time Zhenya tosses his shirt to the side, and he bats Zhenya’s hands away in favor of getting his pants and underwear off on his own.

Zhenya stays dressed. Sid likes it that way, always has.

A lapful of naked Sidney Crosby is as much of a temptation as it was back when they first started hooking up, but Sid knows what he’s doing now, knows how best to grind against Zhenya to make him arch his back moan. He knows that Zhenya likes the press of Sid’s teeth against his neck, that if Sid scrapes along Zhenya’s sides he’ll shiver and practically beg for more.

Zhenya knows a few things too now, though.

Once upon a time, he liked to have Sid facing the other way. He’d make Sid look at Zhenya’s wall of trophies, everything he did for the city while he was on the team, and whisper dirty promises in Sid’s ear of what he’d do if Sid accomplished the same. Sid used to come like a rocket when he did that, young and squirming in his owner’s lap, desperate to prove himself on the ice and in the bedroom.

Sid’s done everything Zhenya’s ever asked of him. Now, he likes to look Sid in the eyes instead.

There’s a little table with a drawer on one side of the chair, and Sid fishes the lube out and pours some into his hand without breaking away from where he’s sucking on Zhenya’s neck. Zhenya unzips himself, pulling his pants aside enough to draw his dick out from his briefs.

It takes Zhenya longer to get hard now than it used to. He has a bottle of little blue pills in the bathroom upstairs just in case; Sid tried to tell him not to worry about it, but Zhenya wants Sid all the time, and he’ll be damned if he lets his body deny him something that he wants. It’s not a problem tonight, though—he’s hard and wet at the tip already.

Zhenya thinks Sid doesn’t realize that he licks his lips every time he looks at Zhenya’s erection. Zhenya’s certainly never going to tell him.

The first stroke of Sid’s hand makes Zhenya moan, and he has to close his eyes and breathe deep to focus. He only has one per night in him these days, and he wants to make sure he can give Sid what he needs.

Zhenya knows that a lot of what Sid likes in bed is because Zhenya taught him to. It’s a little heady, knowing he’s shaped Sid’s sexual preferences that permanently. It means that when Sid lifts up and lowers himself onto Zhenya’s dick without so much as a finger for prep, Zhenya knows he can take it.

Sid’s always liked a challenge. His nostrils flare and his face screws up as he sinks down until Zhenya’s fully in him the same way they do when he’s shooting the puck from a difficult angle. Zhenya likes watching him like this, working for something, pushing himself to his limits to get what he wants.

When he starts to move, Sid’s thighs shake. He was on the ice for over 20 minutes tonight, after all. Normally Zhenya likes to make Sid do all the work, enjoying the view of Sid riding him in the middle of his office, but tonight he takes pity on him, fucking his hips up to meet Sid halfway, making him gasp when Zhenya gets him just right.

Sid never lasts long after games like tonight’s. He gets so worked up from hockey still, especially when he’s had a dominant game. Zhenya would tease him, but he’s the same.

“Look so good out there,” he praises, sliding a hand up Sid’s thigh and closing it around his dick. “So strong, nobody stops you when you’re play like this. You get to your knee, everyone knows it’s a goal.”

“You like me on my knees,” Sid says through gritted teeth, moving faster. He’s so tight around Zhenya’s dick, and hot, and he’s staring greedily over Zhenya’s body, at the hint of bare throat where Zhenya loosened his tie, his forearms where he’d rolled up his sleeves. “You’d put me there all the time if you could.”

“Fuck,” Zhenya swears, squeezing the head of Sid’s dick and making him gasp. “Yes, I would. You want? Sit under my desk while I do work, suck my dick until I say you make me come.”

“Oh my god,” Sid moans, curling forward and bracing himself on Zhenya’s shoulders as he comes into Zhenya’s palm.

Zhenya’s so close that it almost hurts, but he works Sid’s dick through his orgasm, smearing the come back onto his skin until Sid pushes his hand away and starts moving again.

When they were both younger, Sid used to ride Zhenya until he was hard again, agonizingly slow until Zhenya was sweating and begging underneath him. Now, though, they’re both tired, and too old for extended edging sessions, so Sid grits his teeth and doubles down until Zhenya pulls him down and grinds up into him, coming with a grunt.

Neither of them move for a few minutes, breathing hard as they come down. Zhenya rubs his hands between Sid’s shoulder blades and lets his mind drift.

Sid has two years after this season, probably. The team will want him to stick around; he’ll want that too, to have a hand in mentoring the next crop of players hoping to bring the Cup back to Pittsburgh, to stabilize the franchise through the transition. 

Times are different now. When Zhenya was a player, what he’s thinking about right now was so impossible it would be laughable to even think about.

Now, though, he lets himself imagine Sid sitting in the owner’s suite with him, tucked in the chair next to his with Zhenya’s hand on his knee. He thinks of them waving to the crowd, and the way a tasteful gold ring might glint in the arena lights from Sid’s left hand.

They haven’t talked about it, not really. But Zhenya thinks Sid’s probably a sure thing.

[strawhatmay]

Just a little drabble I managed to write, but it IS my first ever piece of Zosan fanfiction 😭 (althought it is not about them lol) As always, constructive critiscism is more than welcomed.

A friend in the house

[Zoro runs into someone on the way to the bathroom in the Vinsmoke house]

It was late, very late, but Zoro really had to go take a piss, so he got up, grabbed Sanji’s robe and got out of the bedroom as quietly as possible.

 

This big ass house and no private bathroom, just the logic of Judge Vinsmoke, "let's make a gigantic one, practically a mansion, oh toilets? I don't give a fuck, put them wherever." Zoro never met him really, he died when Sanji was 6, good fucking riddance.

Even after the Vinsmoke siblings all turned 21, they still share a house. Sora insisted, she wanted them all in one place as long as they were happy here, and well, none of them had the heart to say no to their mom.

 

So that's why Zoro has to go through a maze to find a bathroom in the middle of the night, instead of just finding one a few steps away from the bed in a hypothetical apartment they would own. Or, Sanji would own, he means. Zoro would love to move in with him, but Sanji might like to have his own place for a bit before that.

 

 

Ah, Sanji. He needs to hurry up so he can go back to bed. They had a little argument a week ago and now they were back, he was back in his arms. It was silly, so silly, they just needed to talk it out, and last night Sanji called him saying he missed him, so Zoro was throwing tiny rocks at his window 5 minutes later.

 

"Yeah that's definitely the bathroom," Zoro thinks when he recognizes the door. Just when he's aproaching it, another figure in a bright pink robe appears in the dark and goes to the door as well. Both in robes so clearly from their respective partners, they stop and stare at each other.

 

 

"Roronoa" she aknowledges, a bit irritated.

 

"Tash" says Zoro, trying to sound friendly.

 

…awkward.

 

"Made up with Blondie?" Tashigi asks with a teasing smile.

 

"Back together with Pinkie?" Zoro answers.

 

She smiles. "Why else would I be here?"

 

"I don't know, maybe you were seeing one of her brothers."

 

"Ew."

 

"Or maybe you sneaked in," Zoro shrugs.

 

"Yeah right, cause I'M the one who climed through Sanji's balcony like three hours ago." Look at that, now she was teasing in a friendly way. Zoro can never tell if Tashigi is a friend or an enemy.

 

"How do you even know about that?" Zoro asks, suddendly worried the rest of the house heard him too.

 

"Sanji's room is right on top of the library, we literally saw you the whole time. You know you can just use the door, right?" she asks him like he's dumb.

 

"It's more fun this way" he says, trying to look nonchalant.

 

She pauses and then asks: "You’re scared of Zeff?"

Caught.

 

"...maybe, so what? He's intimidating" Zoro admits, because really, would anyone blame him?

 

"He's an old chef with one leg," she says, leaning on the wall and crossing her arms. "Besides, he likes you more than he likes me and I'm allowed to use the door."

 

"Yeah well, I've never broken up with *my* Vinsmoke," Zoro says, but then he feels that maybe it was a bit cold, so he adds "no offense."

 

"It's fine, it is what it is" Tashigi says, now seeming a little sad.

 

Zoro knows why Tashigi broke up with Reiju a couple times in the past. Reiju and Sanji are pretty close, and naturally, Sanji tells him everything. He doesn't wanna get too involved in other people's bussiness, but at least he can offer some advice.

 

"Hey, so...I don't know much about your relationship but...I often think I don't deserve him either, you know?"

 

Zoro tells her, carefully.

 

Tashigi looks at him, she seems to be paying real attention now.

 

He continues "and that's ok, it's ok to feel unworthy sometimes, but just...try to trust that she thinks you actually are, that you do deserve her and trust her judgement. It's her decision to be with you, to choose you, you know?"

 

A few seconds pass, Zoro starts fidgeting with the fabric of his yellow robe.

 

"Huh...and here I thought Blondie chose you only because of your boobs" Tashigi says, now fully on her feet, with her hands on her hips. She smiles. Zoro mirrors the smile.

 

"Thank you, Zoro" she says and bumps his shoulder softly with her fist.

 

"You're welcome" he says and does the same to her.

 

Just when they finish talking, the door to the bathroom opens.

A VERY tall guy with purple hair comes out wearing a red robe. He stands in the middle of Zoro and Tashigi, looks between them and says “all yours” as he walks away.

The other two stare at each other surprised.

“…was that Charlotte Katakuri?” Tashigi whispers as she looks at the red robe dissappear in the hallway.

“I can’t believe it” Zoro says, finally closing his mouth. “Did he not completely hate Ichiji?” he adds, whispering as well.

“Right, cause two people can’t hate each other but also want to fuck” says Tashigi and gives Zoro a pointed look.

“…ok, I get it” he answers and looks around a bit embarrassed.

“They are way more controversial than you two though, both captains of rival teams” she half whispers as she gets a bit closer.

“The Charlottes are gonna hate us even more” says Zoro.

“Us?”

“Well, yeah, we’re part of the Vinsmoke clan, aren’t we?” Zoro asks with a frown.

“I guess, yeah, I never thought about it before”

A moment passes.

“Hey, look at us gossiping” Zoro laughs. “Guess now I have a friend in this house” he adds as he opens the bathroom door.

“Hey ‘friend’, why do YOU get to go-“ but the door is closed to her face.

The end.

[telluriannovice]

Day 2: Hand Kiss

Danny glared at Vlad like he was trying to see through his skin. He'd been acting weird all day. First, Vlad took the day off work, which is fine, he's an adult and everyone needs time off. Then, he offered to take Danny to the park, the one with a playground, a skate park, and an open field. And then Vlad just so happened to have brought a picnic basket that had Danny's favorite sandwich (a BLT without the T) and Danny's favorite cookies. Then he just decided to "swing by" the arcade, that somehow didn't have any people in it, and the two of them got to play whatever they wanted for as long as they wanted. And now, Vlad was leading them towards the Pier Carnival, and Danny had a feeling he was going to suggest they "swing by" that too.

"What's wrong, Danny? Something not to your liking?" Vlad asked and seemed actually worried.

"No, it's literally perfect." Danny said, glaring at him more.

"Then why the death stare?"

"Well, the last time you were this nice to me, my emotions were tied to the weather."

"So what? I can't take you on a nice date without it being suspect." He didn't actually sound convincing.

"I mean, yeah," Danny admitted. "This feels like one of your old schemes."

Vlad made a disgruntled sound then quickened his pace. "I thought something that felt more go with the flow would suit you better, but if not, then come on. We're going to go have a good time and things will continue to be perfect."

Vlad did lead them to the carnival and they did have a good time. Well, Danny did. His main problem with the supposed perfect date was... well, they didn't do anything Vlad liked. Vlad dates were fancy dinners and museums. He'd spend hours dressing Danny up like a doll to make sure his outfit was perfect, and then they'd go somewhere that would kick you out for wearing shorts or burping too loud. The best date Danny can remember them going on was right in the middle - a fancy fundraiser dinner at the observatory. Vlad got to talk snob with the other rich guests and Danny got to see the new museum wing before the rest of the public. Sure, it wasn't the fanciest of dinners and Danny had to wear an uncomfy suit, but they both got to have their fun and spend time with each other.

Danny was still trying to figure out what Vlad's game was, when he realized they were alone. It was past closing time, but not past the time a security person would have asked them to leave. Vlad took Danny out onto the pier, where they could see the sun setting in brilliant color.

"Perfect." Vlad hummed in satisfaction and quickly took Danny's hands in his. "Danny, my beloved little badger. I have loved you from the moment we met, and through every fight we had, and I will continue to love you till the end of time. So I ask..." He pulled a small box out of his jacket and fell to one knee. "Will you marry me?"

Danny blinked at him, his brain still trying to process what Vlad just said. He just, proposed? After an entire day of doing stuff Danny liked, and on a pier at sunset. Danny was taking too long to answer, he could feel it. The ring box in Vlad's hands started to shake and Danny knows Vlad doesn't do well on his knees.

He needed to say something. He needed to say anything. He needed to tell Vlad how much he appreciated their date and how much effort Vlad put into their relationship. "Yeah, sure."

No! Come on! "No, wait, sorry. I mean yes."

Vlad sighed in relief and stood back up, taking the ring from its box and putting it on Danny's hand. Vlad kissed over it gently, then down Danny's hand and threatened to kiss all the way up his arm. But Danny was able to divert his attention, cupping Vlad's cheek and pulling him into a proper kiss. And you know what? Fuck it! He pulled Vlad into a playful dip kiss, like they were ballroom dancing.

Eventually, they stopped kissing. Danny gave Vlad a scheming look. "Alright, when's your next day off?"

"We can't get married that quickly, little badger. Weddings take-"

"Not for the wedding!" Danny interrupted. "For my proposal!"

"You don't need to-"

"Mines going to be way better than yours."

"It's not a competition."

"Sounds like you're scared you'll lose." Danny joined when Vlad laughed, but it wasn't a joke. His proposal was going to be way better than Vlad's!

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Seventeen

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Seventeen | Frostbitten Find

Dorian and Rey crouched in the snow by the banks of the stream, admiring the way the water bounced and glistened over the rocks under the surface. Everything was starting to melt. The piles of ash gray snow scraped off of the roads. The ice coated limbs and branches from nearby trees. The sheets of ice on the roof.

It was still cold, but it was nothing like that Christmas night three months ago. It was still terrifying to remember. Rey and Dorian both still were having nightmares about it. A dark, shadowy figure towering above them. The two of them being no bigger than their little friend, Ashlynn, as they tried running from the man. The sound of Soren’s scream of pain reverberating all around them.

It had been better and, reluctantly, the boys had returned to sleeping in their own beds a while ago. It was still a comfort when Soren allowed them to spend the night with him. Nothing felt scary when he was around, even the dangerous stuff.

Now, however, wasn’t one of those times. There was a little metal pipe that led to a makeshift creek in their neighborhood. It wasn’t very deep, unless it was storming heavily. Maybe a foot or so deep by two feet wide. It had obviously been carved by the storm drains that weaved in and around the neighborhood when it was first put in, and it was the local HOA that had decided to make it more aesthetic within the past year.

On occasion, Soren would let them go out there on their own and play. It was one of those things that he hoped they could bond over, their love of water and nature. It also was a good exercise for both Soren and the boys to not be together constantly. The two younger siblings needed to experience limited independence, and time by the creek let them do just that.

So, that’s where they were. Playing in the stream was fun, especially in the fall when they made sure the creek could flow smoothly from one end to the next. During the winter, however, they needed games to occupy themselves by the water’s edge, and they had just the thing.

They’d collected little bits of sticks, twigs, and leaves and were racing them down the stream. So far, Rey was winning.

“How do you keep doing that?” huffed Dorian. “My leaves look exactly like yours.”

“I’m just lucky,” grinned Rey. “Do you want to trade?”

“Maybe,” Dorian grumbled. “If I don’t win the next one, I want to pick one from your pile.”

“Okay, but if I win then that gives me a whole ten and I should get a prize.” The youngest had a confident gleam in his eyes, almost teasing his own downfall. Dorian sighed. He knew what his younger brother wanted.

“No! I don’t want to give it to you,” he puffed.

“Hey, you wanted to do prizes if we reached double digits. If you win next time we play, you can get it back,” pointed out Rey. Dorian sighed and, reluctantly, the two boys shook on the terms. “Okay? Three. Two. One. Go!” They dropped their decaying, frayed leaves into the creek and ran alongside them as they bumped and spun around the water. Down one waterfall. Across the bumpy stones. The two boys cheered wildly, unable to alter their makeshift vessels’ fate, as Rey’s leaf crossed the finish line first.

“No!”

“Yeah!”

“Can we make it the next one?”

“No, now hand it over. You shook on it.” Rey held out his hand expectantly and, with a sour face, Dorian shoved his hand into his pocket and slapped a game cartridge into Rey’s awaiting palm. The cartridge was a video game set they both enjoyed, and it was one that Soren said he played when he was a kid. Sometimes, when they were allowed to play games, Soren would let them play on his old Nintendo Gameboy. Now that Rey had the cartridge, he would get dibs to play first when they went back inside for lunch.

“Thank you,” Rey grinned.

“You’re welcome.” Dorian didn’t want to, but he did shake on it. A deal was a deal, even if he didn’t like it.

“Want to play again? We can bet something else and start from scratch,” suggested Rey. Dorian, feeling disheartened, sighed heavily and kicked a nearby rock into the water.

“Fine, but only if I get to use one of your leaves!”

“Deal, not that it’ll help you,” teased Rey as both boys bounded back up the slope. Chests heaving, they continued their climb and were almost to the top when Rey noticed something drop out of the storm drain. He wouldn’t have paid it any mind, but watching it pass as it began drifting down the creek made him stop dead in his tracks.

“What? It’s just leaves,” Dorian muttered between puffs of air.

Rey looked between Dorian and the dark lump as he said, “Leaves don’t have hands.” With that, Rey darted back down the stream before the bumpy rocks and tugged his glove off of his hand. He dipped it into the frigid water just as the lump started to drift by and snagged it with his fingers.

The moment he lifted the mass out of the water, Rey felt a chill surge through his body. It wasn’t because of the cold water on his fingertips. It wasn’t the sound of Soren calling them from their garage telling them to come back because it was getting late.

It was because he could make out the distinct wound on the small figures head.

His eyes were wide. The child’s heart was skipping every few beats as he examined the miniscule person. She had different features than Ashlynn, but it was still obvious that they were the same kind of person. If Rey was right, this one was a girl too.

Her arms were laying limp, along with the rest of her body, and it was obvious she was unconscious. She was wearing furs and other heavy pieces of clothing. There were tears in her boots and parts of her looked stiff, almost like they were frozen. There was something that looked like a bow and arrow on her back and, with her cloak off to the side, Rey noticed what looked like a rusty nail at her side.

“What on earth are you – oh….” Dorian’s voice trailed off when he made it back to where Rey was standing by the creek. His eyes widened as he noticed the things Rey did. “There’s another one? Do you think Ashlynn knows her?”

“I don’t know, but I think we need to get her back to Soren. She looks frozen,” muttered Rey, lowering his voice like how he would talk to Ashlynn. “You don’t think she’s… you know… dead… do you?” Dorian shook his head and carefully pointed to the wound on her head.

“That looks fresh, so no I don’t think so. And I think you’re right. Let’s get back asap!”

~~~^*^*^~~~

“So, that’s what makes a fajita?” asked Ashlynn. She continued to slice up the part of pepper Soren had given her so she could have a few things her size to eat. Soren struggled cutting things small and fine enough for Ashlynn to eat, so instead he’d been giving cooking lessons to her for the past three months. Between Rey and Soren’s inventions and Dorian’s suggestions for dinner and snacks, they had a plethora of things to learn and discuss.

The boys had, together, made a miniature kitchen on one of the counter spaces for Ashlynn. It had a proper counter, a makeshift candle stove and oven, and even a washing station. It had taken nearly a month to convince Ashlynn that having a space of her own down in the boys’ home would be beneficial. It took even longer for Ashlynn to admit that she liked staying down with the boys doing anything and everything. She wasn’t sure if it was her loneliness that drove her down into the human world more and more often, but Ashlynn had stopped fighting those urges that told her to retreat back into the walls every time one of the boys approached her.

She’d even moved her campsite to beneath the floorboards of Soren’s room because their late night conversations left her going home exhausted, and that climb was tedious when she was tired and planned to be back down the very next morning.

During those conversations, Ashlynn learned a lot about Soren, and he learned a lot about her. Things she wouldn’t usually tell someone were things he was able to tease out of her. Things about her parents and everything that happened between them to lead to her father leaving. She talked about her brother and how he hated her because she’d lied about what happened to their dad.

She talked about how she thought she’d been seen in the place she was living before and with everything going on she decided to leave. The rules. Things she wanted out of life. What she would do if she were human for a day. Dreams.

Soren returned the information in kind. He talked about his own dad and how he’d gotten sick. He talked about how Brady came into his life and how, in the beginning, things seemed alright; at least, until the accident. One night after drinking too much, Brady had crashed the car. Soren’s mom was in the front seat, and they were having a fight before the crash. Soren only remembered because his mom had told him crying from the bathroom saying that it was over between her and Brady and to protect the boys no matter what.

Soren talked about his dream of wanting to be a doctor to help cure people of the thing that took his dad from him, but how all of that came to a screeching halt when he assumed custody of his brothers. He joined the firefighters and never looked back. It was a good gig. He was able to spend time with his brothers and even bring them into the station on occasion.

Real conversation. Raw. Meaningful. It was a connection that Ashlynn had been craving since the day she left, and now she’d found it again with the boys in her life.

And she wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Yep, that’s all it is. Of course, you need the seasonings and everything, but peppers, onions, and usually some kind of meat mixed together,” replied Soren. He glanced to the front door and then at the kitchen door that led to the garage. “And then you add all of the other fixings like sour cream, guacamole, lettuce, tomato, and anything else that might suit your fancy on tortillas or chips.” He sighed and wiped his hands on a crumpled dishcloth on the counter. “Where are those two?”

“They were by the creek, right?” asked Ashlynn. “Do you need to go look for them?”

“No, but if they’re not back in a few minutes, I’m g-”

“Soren!” Dorian’s voice, muffled from the walls in the garage, instantly sent a chill down his brother’s spine. Something’s wrong. Soren was at the door in the blink of an eye, throwing the door open and scanning the space for his brother. The eldest brother noticed Dorian running ahead while Rey, who was way behind him, was walking calmly, one step in front of the other, with his hands cupped in front of him.

“Dorian? What is it? What’s wrong?” asked Soren as he knelt and grasped Dorian’s shoulders, seeking any clue in his brother’s face as to what was going on.

“We… found…” Dorian puffed. “Another… one.”

The statement was stunning. “Another one? Another wh…” Soren’s voice trailed off. “You mean…”

“Yeah! By the creek… Rey saw… something floating in… the water and… snagged… her. She’s… not awake… and I think… she has a… cut… on her head,” stated Dorian between breaths. Soren glanced from one brother to the next. Rey was just barely on the other side of the road, walking carefully and focused on something cradled in his hands.

“Um… alright. You said she’s hurt? Then get the first aid kit from under the sink, tell Ashlynn, and get some towels and put them on the table,” instructed Soren. “And let Ashlynn know. She’ll be able to help us.” He left Dorian to scurry into the house.

Ashlynn, who only picked up on the worried tones as her focus was elsewhere, glanced toward the slightly cracked door that Soren had left open as he stepped outside. She was drying her hands on a snippet of dish cloth when Dorian burst through the door, making her instinctually reach for the pin she no longer carried at her side, and looked into the child’s discombobulated features.

“Dorian? What’s wrong?” she asked. There were dozens of emotions in the boy’s face, but it didn’t matter. His words were what truly seized her attention.

“Ashlynn, we need your help. Rey and I… we were playing by the creek and…” He paused for a breath, obviously trying to calm down his excitement, before continuing. “We found someone, another – like you. We think she’s hurt, so we need to get the table ready and th-”

Ashlynn felt completely frozen in place. The words continued, but she didn’t register them. He stopped speaking. Paused. Then carried on. As Dorian bounded past and asked if she wanted some help getting onto the table, all she could think was the same word over and over.

Another.

There was someone else. There was another Borrower, and they were hurt.

What had happened? Why were they here? Did Ashlynn know them? How badly were they hurt? More concerning… what would they think if they saw Ashlynn? What would they say once they saw her out in the open?

The questions felt like rocks weighing down her stomach, but the sudden eclipsing face of Dorian standing in front of her took priority to her scattered thoughts.

“Ashlynn? You okay?” asked Dorian.

The Borrower nodded vaguely, the need to clear her throat apparent as she finally was able to respond with a weak, “Yeah. I mean, yes, please.” She stepped onto the child’s waiting hand, clutching on for dear life as he spun around and walked at a pace that he obviously thought was slow and steady. He set Ashlynn down and began unfolding the different kits, but didn’t get far as her eyes picked up movement from the kitchen door.

Soren walked alongside Rey, who was stepping heel to toe slowly, and stepped around his youngest brother to check that the supplies Dorian was in charge of were laid out. A cup of water would’ve gone unspilled if it were placed on Rey’s head, each step placed carefully. It reminded Ashlynn of how she walked on squeaky floorboards.

Have they been picking that up from me? Or has he always been this careful?

“Here. Put her here,” said Dorian as he pet the towel he’d snagged from the bathroom.

“I’m gonna,” Rey breathed. He stepped up to the table, eyes flicking momentarily to Ashlynn, before setting down the unconscious figure onto the comfortable surface. Ashlynn picked up on the way the Borrower was dressed. Heavy. Thick. Meant to keep in the warm. Not meant for a quick trip.

It was everything she had when she was running from her own home. So, this Borrower was either seen and running or she’s an Outie. Ashlynn nearly tripped on the edge of the blanket, taking an involuntary step forward that she didn’t realize she’d taken. Thankfully, she recovered from her stumble by covering it up as her crouching beside the newcomer.

Already, she could see a few obvious injuries. There was a clear gash on her temple that started above her left eyebrow and ended almost at her ear. There were a few smaller scratches next to the larger laceration, as if she’d ducked something clawing at her face that had barely missed her eye, but it wasn’t deep. There was also part of a splint on her ankle, but it was loose and in bad shape.

There was also some dark staining by the top of her right shoulder, but Ashlynn couldn’t tell anything without removing the Borrower’s clothing.

“Ashlynn?” Soren’s voice made her startle. She looked back at him, soothed by those golden hazel orbs, and let herself relax.

“Yes? Sorry. Did you say something?” she asked.

“No, I didn’t. Sorry. I just…. Do you know her?” Ashlynn searched the woman’s features and shook her head. “Well, regardless we need to help her.” Despite Soren’s words, he didn’t move. Neither boy did either. It was a solid minute before Ashlynn directed her attention to the boys, who were looking at her hesitantly.

“What?”

“Well… um… you’re kind of… the same,” pointed out Rey.

“And? It’s not like you haven’t seen someone small like me.”

She wasn’t sure what the child was trying to imply until Soren added, “And we remember what you said about the rules and the whole touching thing. Just trying to be respectful is all. We don’t want to start moving her around while you’re standing here if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”

That’s right… the rules… No touching. How… how did I forget?

“I… er… right.” Ashlynn’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She hoped her size played to her advantage and that the boys couldn’t see the pink in her cheeks. To distract, she knelt and began methodically pulling off different pieces of equipment. The knots were simple and easy to remove, as were the weapons. Ashlynn counted nearly a dozen different implements in total that could be used to stab and slice attached to different hiding spots on the stranger’s body.

It was awkward having three humans watching her. She wasn’t sure if she could feel their breath on her neck or if it was just her imagination. There were other things to focus on, but the thought lingered in the back of her mind. It actually wasn’t until she began removing some of the heavier pieces of clothing that she began feeling uneasy.

I need them to back off a bit.

“Um… guys? Could…” Ashlynn thought quickly of something – anything – she could request to get the boys out of her hair for just a minute. “Um… could you… get some warm water? And some towels? She’ll probably need to be cleaned up. Small and big pieces if that’s okay.”

“Yeah! Absolutely,” Rey said eagerly as he tugged Dorian’s shoulder and the two hurried around the corner to the bathroom. Once out of earshot, Soren knelt and looked at Ashlynn. It was that golden hazel stare Ashlynn feared would happen. She only glimpsed his eyes, but she knew what was coming. Every time he looked at her like that, one of two things happened. One, she felt self-conscious as her skin burned and her heart fluttered like a butterfly in spring. Two, he was reading her mind.

She guessed it was the later.

“Ashlynn.” There it was. That tone he took. It was the second. “What’s wrong?” Was it even worth trying to deceive him? He was able to discern so much at a glance. Could she keep her mind and body steady as she attempted to throw him off?

No. He… Soren’s earned the truth. He’ll guess it anyway.

“It’s… I’ve just forgotten a few things. And it’s weird, being on the other side of it all,” Ashlynn muttered. She heard the human beside her sigh, obviously in understanding, before pushing himself off of the ground and heading to the kitchen to warm some water.

A minute of silence passed, the only sound being the youngest two’s muffled voices as they excitedly cut pieces of washcloth into different sizes, before Soren asked, “Do you want us to leave you two alone? So you can work on her and be undisturbed?”

Ashlynn shook her head as she stood and walked to the edge of the table so Soren could hear her, quickly responding, “No. I… I don’t want to be alone right now with her. I know I should want to be alone, for her sake, but not yet. If we can get her patched up quickly and then close to the walls, I can take her back to my camp before she knows she was s…”

“Wh…”

The sharp inhalation just behind Ashlynn sent chills up her spine. She whipped around to see the Borrower woman, eyes blown wide open, attempting to scurry away while prone. Each movement made her wince, but it was obvious fear was driving her adrenaline to do her bidding. It was obvious that she saw where she was and who was in the room, which was Ashlynn’s worst nightmare.

The Borrower’s eyes quickly flicked down at her sides as she searched for the weapons that were obviously too far away for her to grab before shifting from Ashlynn and then back to Soren. There was only wilderness in the Borrower’s eyes. Primal fear. Terror. Concern. The Borrower rules playing over and over in her mind. Ashlynn immediately knew the feeling, but something else stung more than the fear in the Borrower’s eyes.

Betrayal.

Pet.

Ashlynn could see the word in her face as if it were written there in ink.

I need to fix this. Before things happen and she gets hurt.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ashlynn said as she crouched to be at eye-level with her fellow Borrower. “I get it. There’s a lot going on in your head right now, but you’re hurt. W-…er… I… can help.”

The Borrower’s face twisted in disbelief as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. Her eyes darted in between Ashlynn, Soren, and the removed weapons. The feeling of vulnerability – being small – radiated off of her like the smell of mildew on her clothes. Ashlynn knew what she had to do, and it would take nothing short of a miracle for her to be able to pull it off.

Ashlynn continued to crouch as she shifted her weight and inched her way to the weapons. She snagged one of them, a rusty thumb tack dulled from overuse, and held it up. The Borrower’s eyes gleamed venomously, but surprise overtook her features as Ashlynn tossed it over to her.

“I get it,” Ashlynn said quietly, like coaxing a mouse to her side. “You’re hurt. Your supplies are probably low. This is all probably a lot right now. Your mind’s racing. You’re having thoughts, doubts, about me, but I swear it’s not what you think. So, please, let me help you and I’ll explain everything.”

With little hesitation, the Borrower leaned forward and snatched the rusted tack. She didn’t back up, but she didn’t lower her guard either. She kept the tack by her side and continued to eye Ashlynn suspiciously. The tension was thick in the air, like snow in a blizzard. Nothing could be predicted more than a few inches in front of their faces. It was instinct alone that guided the next steps.

Ashlynn continued to crouch as she approached, snagging a bandage fragment from the nearby kit as she did. Each movement was slow and methodical. Each movement met scrutiny and a hostile glare. She was only an inch away when, to her dismay, Ashlynn heard more pounding footsteps.

No. Dorian and Rey!

“Soren! Ashlynn! We’ve got the towel for y-” Dorian said, stopping in his tracks as he noticed the scene on the table.

“Oh good! You’re awake. We were r-” Rey began to say before everything else happened.

Ashlynn had turned her head just a fraction to the side to glimpse Dorian and Rey, but evidently that was what the new Borrower was waiting for.

In an instant, she slashed her tack at Ashlynn’s face, bitterness seething in her features as Ashlynn pulled away in the nick of time. Ashlynn had only a moment as the newcomer swung wildly again, slicing at the air in an attempt to cut the Borrower before her.

“Ashlynn!”

All three boys said her name at the same time and took a bold step forward, but Ashlynn threw up her hands and shouted, “Stay back!” The Borrower stood shakily, confusion only a glint in her wild eyes as she noticed all three of the humans stop dead in their tracks. It didn’t stop her though.

The new Borrower, obviously determined, began slicing and cutting at the air, missing Ashlynn by millimeters. Weeks of good eating and practice being nimble while the two young boys carried her was obviously doing her some good. She blocked over a dozen blows, whacking the inside of her attacker’s wrists to deflect the oncoming attack. Frustration drove the Borrower as she stabbed forward, aiming for Ashlynn’s chest.

But she was ready.

As the Borrower lunged, Ashlynn dodged across the body and wrapped her arm around her attacker’s arm, keeping the makeshift blade far away from her. With a quick hit to her hand, the new Borrower was once again defenseless as the thumb tack clattered to the table. Ashlynn, barely a breath away from the Borrower, could see every detail of her emotions as they changed in rapid succession.

Rage.

Frustration.

Betrayal again.

Pet.

Ashlynn forced herself to look past all of that to see the true fear, remembering everything she felt when she was trapped in the drawer, hurt and alone. The scene was undoubtedly an alarming one, and not knowing who to trust didn’t make things any easier.

So, as she stared her in the eyes, Ashlynn breathed calmly and spoke as reassuringly as she could. “I know what this must look like.” Each word was slow and deliberate, barely above a whisper so only the two of them could hear. “But you’re hurt. You’re weakened. Let me help you. I swear, they – the humans – won’t bother us if I ask them to.”

Ashlynn kept a firm grip on the Borrower’s arm, forcing the stranger’s gaze, and watched the realization of being beaten sink in. There were hints of doubt in her features as well. To prove it, Ashlynn would have to send the boys away. It was unideal. It was dangerous.

Ashlynn had no other choice if she wanted to earn some modicum of trust.

“Guys, could you leave us?” called Ashlynn, the volume of her voice making the new Borrower wince. The boys were obviously uneasy, but a quick nod from Soren made the two brothers begin to back away. Soren, however, remained stationary. His eyes were fixed on the two of them. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to feel the human’s eyes on them.

“Soren, go.” Ashlynn directed again.

Soren, clenching his jaw and his fists just for a moment, grabbed a bowl, filled it with warm water, and carefully set it on the table as he passed. He also snagged the cloth fragments from Dorian’s cupped hands and set them down on the opposite end of the table. For just a moment, he shot a warning glance at the stranger, making her shiver visibly, before turning his back on the two Borrowers and ushering his brothers into his room.

“If you need anything, shout,” instructed Soren as he vanished around the corner with his brothers. And if you get hurt, I swear she’ll regret it, Soren thought silently.

Nearly five minutes passed before Ashlynn felt the stranger’s body relax in her grip, which was still firm around her arm. The thought of letting go was daunting, but Ashlynn knew she couldn’t earn trust by restraining the new Borrower. Ensuring she had her attention, Ashlynn gave a little tug and squared her shoulders.

“When I let go, you’re going to stay calm. Got it? Don’t reach for your weapons. Don’t charge off of the table. You play nice and I’ll play nice.” Ashlynn made sure understanding was in her eyes before slowly releasing her arm. Immediately, Ashlynn took a few large steps backward and snagged the thumb tack off of the ground. The stranger’s chest heaved, but she didn’t move. Instead, her eyes flicked to the corner where the brothers had disappeared.

“Don’t worry. They’ll stay away unless I call them back,” reassured Ashlynn. She dared to turn her back to the stranger as she collected the other weapons and pushed them as far away as possible. Turning back, she asked, “Now, do you want help? Or do you think you can help yourself?”

The stranger glared at Ashlynn as her eyes flicked from the bowl of still steaming water to the bandages Ashlynn stood beside. She winced as she forced herself to her feet and staggered over to the bowl of water, eyes wide at the vastness of the bowl. Slowly, the Borrower pulled off a few more layers and examined her blood stained shirt. She pealed it back, obviously evaluating whatever wound was underneath, before dipping her hands into the water to wash them.

Now scrubbed, she began washing the drying blood from her forehead, getting nowhere fast. Ashlynn took the moment to grab the towel fragments from the edge of the table and, cautiously, brought them closer and closer. Like a frightened animal, every little motion made the newcomer twitch. The offering of perfectly sized towel fragments did nothing to ease the stranger’s apprehension. All while she scrubbed, she shot warning glances at Ashlynn to stay away.

Hurt lingered in her eyes.

Minutes passed.

Finally, after half an hour of silence and Ashlynn quietly bringing supply after supply within reaching distance, the stranger spoke.

“Why are you here?” Her voice was gruff and low. She was trying to keep her voice from being heard by Soren and his brothers. Ashlynn had to think about the question for a moment. Here could mean a lot of things. Here as in helping her? Or here as in here in the human world?

“I’m not sure what you m-”

“How long have you been their pet?” asked the Borrower. Ashlynn bristled at the question. Her blood boiled. She gritted her teeth and glared at the stranger. It took everything she had to not storm off right then and there.

“I am no pet. Get that through your head right now.” The words came out more threatening than Ashlynn wanted, but just the word made her stomach churn.

I’m not a pet. I’m not a pet. I’m their friend. I’m not a pet.

“Then what are you? How do you get them to listen to you?” spat the Borrower. “And what kind of deal do you have with them?”

“I’m their friend, and they’re mine. Friends listen to one another, so there’s no deal going on,” Ashlynn responded in kind. “I can come and go as I please.”

“Then I ask again – why are you here?” There was desperation in the other’s voice. It was a legitimate question, and one that deserved an answer.

“I guess… I choose to be here,” replied Ashlynn. “I was like you. Alone. Afraid. Hurt. Sick. I was found and thought it was going to be the end of me, but they patched me up and let me go.”

“Were they the ones who hurt you? Poisoned you? Made you sick?” scoffed the Borrower as she shook her head in disbelief. “Do you even know how you sound? Friends? With a human?”

Ashlynn’s heart began racing. She felt herself trembling, each statement feeling like a punch to the gut. Each question was valid, and she had to admit that some of those answers did involve the boys. Poisoned? No, but she’d eaten after them when they were sick. So, technically, they did make her sick. Her arm had been dislocated because of Dorian, so the answer was yes to that question as well.

She balled her fists and kept her chin up while suppressing these thoughts, not having a good answer to give the stranger.

“Just like I thought,” muttered the stranger. “You’re no Borrower. You’re nothing but a pet.”

“Enough!” growled Ashlynn as she met the Borrower’s gaze and glared. Her heart was pounding, and it was obvious the stranger’s words were getting to her. She didn’t care. She was going to speak her mind, regardless of the consequences. “Those boys – my friends – were the ones who found you and brought you here. You’re getting patched up by their things that they gave willingly.”

“I didn’t ask to be saved, and if you were a real Borrower then you would’ve rejected their so-called help too,” the stranger growled back. “Humans and Borrowers can’t be friends. You’re being tricked by them, but none of you are going to trick me.”

Ashlynn stared down this new Borrower, loathing every moment subjected to her presence, and simply replied, “It’s no trick, and I don’t care if you don’t believe me. When you’re patched up and resupply, you can be on your way.”

She turned away and stormed off to the supply box where she knew Soren kept crackers and tugged a few free from the package and practically threw them at the stranger’s pack. All the while, the stranger didn’t let Ashlynn out of her sight. Only once was there a flicker of surprise as she saw Ashlynn beginning to resupply her pack, but no gratitude was uttered and only skeptic distrust filled her eyes.

She’d had enough.

She marched to the edge of the table and, with all the breath in her body, called, “Soren!”

The Borrower jumped, eyeing her weapons once again, but instead crouching behind the immense bowl of water now stained brown and red from her blood and dirt. Ashlynn heard the quick thumps of Soren’s approaching feet and turned toward the Borrower.

“Remember this kindness, from one Borrower to another, and remember you can be safe here. They didn’t have to save you, and they don’t have to let you go – but they’re going to. Remember that,” Ashlynn said quietly. In an instant, Soren had whipped around the corner, a hint of fear in his eyes as he assessed the scene. Seeing Ashlynn standing there, perfectly safe, his body visibly relaxed as he turned to Ashlynn for direction.

“Everything okay?” he breathed. Ashlynn wasn’t sure how to answer that question. In a word, she felt raw. Emotions swirled like a whirlpool in her heart and mind. She didn’t think the stranger’s words would hurt her so much, but the constriction in her throat that strangled her voice told her otherwise.

Ashlynn nodded instead and stepped up to the edge of the table, gesturing for Soren to approach. She hoped his mind reading would pick up on everything she was feeling and keep her from breaking in front of the one who had hurt her. As reliable as the sun’s rising and falling, Soren did just that. He stepped up and rested his hand on the table, letting her step on wordlessly, and steadied her as he carried her out of the room.

He walked past his bedroom where Ashlynn glimpsed the eager faces of the two young boys she’d come to care for like her own brother and into the bathroom where he quickly flicked on the light, shut the door, and set her down onto the bathroom sink, though she didn’t move a muscle. She stayed crouched there in Soren’s hand as the stranger’s words repeated over and over in her head, head dipped as she closed her eyes.

Humans and Borrowers can’t be friends. You’re being tricked by them, but none of you are going to trick me.

Do you even know how you sound? Friends? With a human?

You’re no Borrower. You’re nothing but a pet.

Pet.

Pet.

Pet.

You’re no Borrower.

She felt Soren’s fingertips press against her back, and she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from such a tender touch. It didn’t quiet the echoing words, but it pulled her other senses to the present. At least, enough to hear Soren.

“Ashlynn, you’re shaking all over. Please, what happened?” The gentle urge in Soren’s voice was saturated with concern. It was heart crushing. There was so much care in his voice. Such tenderness.

Ashlynn dared to open her eyes only to be met with blurred vision. Her eyes continued to sting as she tried blinking, realizing only when reaching up that tears were the reason she couldn’t focus her gaze. She tried wiping them away, but it was no use. Suddenly, with no say or control, a sob erupted out of her. The Borrower’s heart hammered relentlessly. Everything felt warm, making her want to crawl away into the shadows.

But she didn’t.

Instead, some impulse overtook her as she laid down in Soren’s hand and curled into a ball. Eyes averted, Ashlynn dared not look at him now. It was too embarrassing. It was too personal. How could she even begin to describe what she was going through?

To be accused of not being what she was, and the sense that the accusation was right, was crushing. It called everything good that had been going on for the past few months into question.

Is she right? Am I really not a Borrower anymore? I’m not a human, and I don’t remember the last time I really had to “borrow” anything. I… have I really changed so much? Am I really so different now? What’s… next? What do I do?

Please…

Please…

Someone… help me.

I don’t know anymore!

“Ashlynn, please.” Soren’s touch suddenly ceased, the pressure against her back easing until it was gone. “Is… it me? Is it that stranger out there? If she did something to you, I c-.” Ashlynn shook her head, which silenced her human counterpart. The two of them stayed in silence for a minute more as Ashlynn’s breathing began to calm.

I need to calm down. I can’t think clearly if I have a headache from crying like a weakling. Ashlynn pushed herself upright and wiped her eyes on the inside of her shirt. As if on cue, Soren offered just a fragment of tissue he’d pinched, which Ashlynn took gratefully. She stayed curled up, knees to her chest, but at least now she was upright.

Words were never Ashlynn’s strong suit, but something about talking to Soren always felt natural. She relied on that as she wiped her eyes once more.

“She didn’t really… do… anything. It’s not her fault. I… I heard some things from her that are messing with me. That’s all,” stated Ashlynn quietly. She glanced up into Soren’s golden hazel eyes, warmth spreading back through her shivering limbs.

“What kind of things? Is she in danger? Are you?”

“No… no. Nothing like that.” Ashlynn felt her chest clench as she summoned the words. “She… basically said that I’ve gone soft. That I’m not a… well… what I am.” The tension, like tendrils fastening themselves to her and consuming bits and pieces of her insides, now crawled up her throat and ensnared her vocal cords. More tears slid down Ashlynn’s cheeks. “S-she…”

Curses! Get it out!

“Sh-sh-she c-called me a p-pet.”

Ashlynn couldn’t stop the second round of sobs racking her body. She buried her face into her folded arms which rested on top of her knees and let herself shake. The reassuring pressure of Soren’s fingertips returned, spreading warmth as they did. He didn’t need to think hard about it to know this was an extreme insult and a very hurtful statement, like a derogatory word meant to wound.

“Ashlynn, you know that’s not true, right? None of us – Dorian, Rey, me – would ever see you like that.”

“I know! I know, and I believe you, but it still hurts. And it calls everything into question.” Ashlynn’s frustration strangled her tone, making her words harsh and bitter.

“What do you mean?” asked Soren. Ashlynn frustratingly threw her arms in the air and let the words explode out of her.

“I mean everything, Soren! What am I doing out here? Do I plan on living like this for the rest of my life? What I am! There are rules and things you’re supposed to do. Don’t talk to humans. Don’t be seen. Immigrate if you think you’ve been noticed. Dozens of rules preventing exactly what is going on right now! I’ve basically been living with you guys, not around you guys. That’s not what a Borrower is supposed to do! It’s in the name! Borrow! If I’m not living in the walls and keeping to the shadows, then I’m not a real Borrower! It’s a fact!”

The flicker in Soren’s eyes matched perfectly with Ashlynn’s realization of what she just said. During her evacuation of emotion and swirling thoughts, she’d let it slip.

She told Soren what she was – a Borrower.

Her stunned silence followed by Soren obviously processing everything Ashlynn just said led to an awkward pause between them. It was the first one that had happened in a while, making Ashlynn feel like her skin was crawling. Something – anything – would be better than this.

“Has it really been so terrible? Staying with us?” asked Soren.

Well… anything except for that question. She detected his attempt at changing the subject, but the question was barely better than the rant or the silence that followed it.

“I… no… that’s not what I meant. It’s just… my life has meaning for me when I’m doing what I do best. I’m good at what I do. Being stealthy. Snagging things that won’t be missed. Surviving. I just… haven’t been doing that… for a while now,” said Ashlynn, once again drawing her legs and arms to her chest.

Soren watched Ashlynn’s crestfallen posture for a minute longer before reaching over and gently stroking her arm with his index finger. “I can’t imagine what that’s like,” he muttered. “But I do know that no one can tell you what or who you are except for you. What some stranger says doesn’t matter, Ashlynn. You know who you are.”

Soren heard a muffled, “Do I?” from Ashlynn as she buried her face in her folded arms once more. She sounded so sad. So broken. Soren wasn’t sure what he could say or do to make her feel better, but he could see that her mind was reeling with everything occurring through recent events.

Feeling absolutely sick to her stomach, Ashlynn knew nothing would come of her thoughts now. She needed to think.

She needed time.

It felt like it was taking every ounce of strength in her body to stand. Her knees felt like jelly. Those terrible tendrils of tension still had a death grip around her chest and her throat. Every breath was a struggle, especially an even one.

Soren watched Ashlynn stand and shakily step off of his hand and onto the bathroom counter. She looked exhausted, completely emotionally drained. It was a gut wrenching sight. She had been so excited for dinner earlier, and everything was going so smoothly until the stranger was brought into their home.

I guess cruelty through words exists no matter what size you are. Human or… Borrower. Soren thought about the word for a moment, barely suppressing a smile as he thought about how well that word fit Ashlynn. He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Ashlynn look up at him, tear streaks still slightly visible on her cheeks.

“I… I think I need a little time on my own… if that’s okay,” she said.

He wanted to say no. He wanted to insist that she stay. The last thing Soren thought Ashlynn needed was to be on her own. Soren also knew Ashlynn understood her own mind and what she needed. Making decisions for her wasn’t going to solve the issue or calm down whatever thoughts were going on in her head.

With a reluctant heart, Soren nodded slowly. “Okay, but… Ashlynn… don’t do anything rash or make any decisions right now. Let yourself take some time and think about everything. And… maybe this is selfish, but I’m going to ask it anyway. If you could, run whatever you’re thinking by me? At the very least, I need to make sure I have something to tell the boys.”

Ashlynn could hear the hurt in Soren’s voice, but once again his character shone through. Even though it was obvious he didn’t want her to go, he was letting her.

Would you let a pet do that? Or is that something you do for a person? I’m not a pet. They’ve never treated me like one. It’s not a trick. It’s not a trap. I’m a person. I’m a Borrower… and… if that’s what I am… maybe I should be acting like one.

Ashlynn nodded without voicing her thoughts and headed for the electrical socket on the edge of the sink. The darkness, more daunting than before, swallowed her form as she vanished into the walls.

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Continue | Coming Soon

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

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Safe Haven Headcannons

Thomas had to defend putting Teresa’s name on the rock to some actual strangers. They stopped questioning him when he started screaming at someone in frustration until he was crying

Thomas tried fishing to see if it was a job he could do and ended up falling over the boat

Thomas likes to go to the beach at night and just stare out at the water

Thomas and Brenda were eventually together after a few years

Thomas asked Gally to build two matching rings for him and Brenda to wear. He agreed as long as Thomas found the supplies

Jorge became basically all of their father figures, even Minho’s

Minho found out that he’s a really good swimmer

Minho likes to ‘talk to Newt’ before he goes to sleep

Because there was no Runner job, Minho ended up being their version of a Builder because of his strength

Minho helps Thomas and Brenda’s kid when they have one. He’s like the cool uncle

Gally discovered that he likes seafood a concerning amount

Gally actually had a crush on Brenda for a while

Gally still makes his alcohol and keeps it a secret from everyone except Fry who gets to help him with it

Sonya was the only one that could touch Aris for a long time after WCKD

Sonya loves the sea scent that's always in the air

Sonya eventually learned how to sew. She was the one people would usually go to to patch up holes in their clothes

Sonya tends to build sand castles when she has free time and is bored. Harriet and Aris usually end up joining her

Aris ended up finding a cat one day and calling dibs on it. Everyone knows it's his cat when they see it

Aris realized giving people rocks is his love language

Aris and Thomas became super close friends

Harriet blackmails people for really petty things if they're mean to the people she cares about

Harriet learns to drive outside the Safe Haven for fun

Harriet quietly whistles to herself when she works because it helps her concentrate

The bonfires become a monthly thing