#like little's is sticking up all over the place and matted and so forth

[stoportotouch]

while i know hodgson isn't the sort of man who is unaware that their hair has an enviable curl pattern because they never let it grow out long enough to see it, i also think that irving actually is that persuasion of man. he thinks that using the hair oil as actual hair oil will cancel out the Other Uses that he has found for it but if he didn't do that (and if he let his hair grow out the slightest bit) he would have very nice not-quite-curls-but-close.

[kpop---scenarios]

Day Three: Changbin

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Smut and..Smut [18+ MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 1.1k

Day One: Felix | Day Two: Jeongin |

You let out a big yawn, situating your outfit before you walk into the empty gym. Late on Friday nights, you had a private session with Changbin, your personal trainer. They usually close around 5 pm, but he always comes to train you at 8 pm every Friday. You like to think it's because he has a thing for you, but most likely, he's just trying to be accommodating. However, that doesn't stop you from relentlessly flirting back and forth with him.

You swore you could cut the sexual tension with a knife when things got sweaty and you were ready to take things to the next level, if he was interested, and tonight you were going to find out.

“Hey.” You smile, setting your bag down. Changbin turns around, a grin plastered on his face as he sets down his weights. “Hey you.” He says, walking over to you. “Are you ready to go hard?”

“I'm ready to go very hard.” You smirk. You can see a slight blush creep across his face.

“As usual, we'll start on the treadmill to warm up.” He says, pointing to the machine. You knew the routine, but he always told you. Treadmill for 30 minutes, stretching, squats, push-ups, sit-ups, the works. He liked to work you until you were dripping sweat.

An hour later you're laying on the mat, sweaty while he looked so fucking good. He wasn't sweating at all, in fact he smelled so fucking good. “Deadlifts today.” He grins. He knew you hated them, which is why it made him happy to make you do them. You weren't terribly upset about it, because now you could finally see if there was truly anything between the two of you. You get into place, the weights on your shoulders, your hands in position and Changbin standing behind you, closely for support. You squat down with the weights and as you come up, you stick your ass out every so slightly. Just enough for it to graze his cock. You're watching him in the mirror as you squat down again, and stick your ass out and graze his cock again. He lets out a deep breath as he shakes his head, trying to focus.

“Again.” He whispers. You squat down again, this time sticking your ass out even more, grazing him again, but you pause, squatting down again and going back up just to tease him a little more. You can feel how hard his cock is as you come back up.

Changbin clears his throat, stepping away from you. “Take a break.. I'm gonna lift some weights.” He says looking around, all his blood must have rushed to his other head. You watch him in the mirror lay down on the bench as he lifts weights. You can see his cock pressing against his sweatpants and you fucking wanted it. You walk over to him standing in front of his head to spot him. But instead you just distract him. You bend over letting your tits spill out of your sports bra a little.

“Fuck.” He groans, continuing to lift.

“You okay?” You ask, cocking your head to the side.

He sighs. “You're making it really hard to concentrate.”

“Why is that?” You ask.

“Because all I want to do is bury my cock so deep inside you.” He says, continuing to lift. You walk around standing near his legs now. He watches you as he lifts the weights up and down. He watches you slip off your shorts. He watches you get down on your knees and pull down his sweatpants, letting his cock spring free.

You get on your knees, wrapping your hand around his cock, slowly pumping him as you watch him struggle to focus on lifting the weights up. You laugh as you move forward a little more, wrapping your lips around his tip. You take your tongue, swirling it around the tip.

“Christ.” He groans, as he slightly bucks his hips. You slowly swallow more of him until he hits the back of your throat. “Fucking hell.” He yells as you bob your head, forcing his cock down your throat even more. You lift your head, taking a breath before you swallow it again, making him groan loudly.

“Sit on my cock before I fucking cum in your mouth.” He snaps. You release his cock with a pop, and stand up. You can feel your wetness spilling from inside you. You go to straddle him, placing your hands on his chest as you slowly sink down onto him. You throw your head back as your pussy swallows his cock. He thrusts up, pushing himself deep into you.

“Fuck.” You cry out, rocking on him, grinding your clit against him as you ride him. He reaches up, gripping your ass, giving you a hard slap as he thrusts up, slamming himself inside you. He rams himself inside you a few more times before he sits up, you continue to rock on him as he lifts up your sports bra, letting your tits out. Changbin reaches up, pinching your nipples before cupping your breasts, putting his face in between them. He wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking hard while you bounce on his cock.

“Oh shit.” He groans, his hands now roaming your body. “You gotta cum.”

“I'm.. right.. there.” You whine, grinding faster on him. Your clit was at the perfect angle to rub against him, the feeling of his cock deep inside you, leaking precum made your orgasm come even faster. “Fuck I'm cumming.” You cry out, your body tensing as pure pleasure releases through your body.

“I'm close.” He moans.

“Cum in my mouth.” You whisper. You get off of him, getting down onto your knees as you take him in your mouth, slurping up your cum from his cock, shoving him down your throat and sucking hard.

“Jesus christ.” He yells, throwing his head back. you use your hand to jerk him off while you sucked in his tip, teasing him, while your other hand gently groped his balls. “That's feels..so fucking good.” You start to go faster and harder, he was like putty in your hands, the pants and whimpers that came from his lips made you want to do more to him.

“Shit, I'm cumming.” He cries, his orgasm hitting him hard. He's breathing heavily as he shoots his cum into your mouth, panting from the unexpected work out. You look up at him and smile, swallowing his cum. He looks shocked, his mouth open wide.

“What? You haven't seen that before?” You chuckle.

“Nuh uh.” He says. “I'm keeping you forever.”

[glassrowboat]

Frost Nipping at Your Nose. Kaeya.

Summary: Sometimes getting caught in the rain isn't the worst thing, especially if you have a chivalrous knight at your side to not warm you up

Word count: 1.5k

“I still can't believe you dragged me out here in the middle of the rain without an umbrella.”

The pounding rain fell to the dirt beneath your feet in swarms, diving towards the ground like bees flying forth to protect their queen, only to meet their end once their goal had been completed. Gone is their existence, soaked up into something else. All as droplets fell down around you both.

Kaeya’s hand pried some of the blue strands matted to his forehead away, trying to unstick them if only for a moment.

“Who needs something like that?” You asked, right as a leaf that had been cupping water in the trees above you finally relented under the weight it had been forced to take and dropped it all on you. Water fell to your head.

“You.” Kaeya laughed, not even bothering to hide his smile as you tried to blink the water out of your eyes.

“We're grown adults, not children who lack the immune system to deal with some water, Kaeya.”

“Well, I prefer to only get this wet in the shower.”

The gray clouds above kept any light from shining through, blocking out the sun, but for a moment you could have sworn those yellow rays had peeked through for just a moment to land on him as Kaeya held out his hand to you. Palm face up as his now soaked gloved hands wait for you to place your own hand in his. “Come along now, it's best to find some cover.”

You took it without hesitation.

Your feet stomped through the dirt, now turned mud, over rocks, fallen leaves, and loose twigs as Kaeya tugged you along. His one eye looking back between you and the path you had both been walking before the sky had decided to bless you both with a downpour. Each step you took matched his even as he made annoyingly bad puns about the weather.

“Rain apparently falls for no rainson,” had you rolling your eyes and groaning in disgust the loudest.

One stick cracked under you as you walked, but by now, any birds or stray squirrels had long since found a place to hide away. As they always did with the change of season; some hid in burrows, and others took the nook of a hollow tree.

The footprints you and Kaeya had been leaving in the mud fell away as the terrain around you both changed to a clearing just outside of Springvale. The bark chips smelled of fragrant cedar wood smothered by wet, possibly mossy stone as you were pulled into a playground.

Funny, you couldn't recall this being here last time you were in the area, but it came to little to no surprise Kaeya knew about it. He was always better with kids than you so it only made sense they would drag him along to their favorite spots to play to the point you could almost hear their screaming as bundles of energy hung off his arms; Klee especially.

“Well look at that, proper cover.” Kaeya’s hand tightened around yours, squeezing you softly as you were forced to duck under one of the short platforms used for stairs after him.

The rain stopped falling on your head, but it still poured around you.

You grumbled out “I think a proper cover would be an awning. Or something of the like.”

“Or an umbrella.” Kaeya remarked, to which you only raised a brow.

He didn't look very comfortable sitting on the bark, legs curled up so he could fit under the small space with you, but Kaeya didn't even mention it. If anything, he seemed far more concerned with his clothes. The gloves came off, dropped to the ground so he could fix the buttons of his shirt, and then it was the fur decorating his coat. He kept messing with the white plumage as you both sat there in silence, your back to a beam to keep you supported.

Fussing.

You had half the mind to joke about how he looked like a preening bird, but instead, you reached over and plucked Kaeya’s hand away from the fur. His skin is as cold as ever. Come spring or fall, you could always count on a cyro user being a living, breathing popsicle. “Are you cold?”

“Cold? This isn't Dragonspine now. Besides, what knight would I be if I let this take me down?”

“A bad one.”

Kaeya nodded, agreeing with you easily. “Precisely. Though if you want to warm me up, you can always buy me a drink once we get back to Mondstadt proper.”

“Or two? Or three?” He would never let you get away with just one glass of wine, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care when you were crammed together like this just trying to keep from getting soaked further seeing as the possibility of staying dry had long since passed.

“Or four.”

“You might as well take my wallet while you're at it.” You huffed.

“Oh?” He teased, the star in Kaeya’s eye sparkling. Surely, the other would too if it wasn't hidden away.

“Yes, ‘oh’.” You couldn't help but scoff, but you were still moving in closer to him; the beam you had been leaning on long since forgotten.

Droplets ran down Kaeya’s cheek as he looked over at you, head tilted down to make sure he could fit under the platform without knocking his forehead against it every time he moved. “I could always take something else? Or tell more of my charming puns.”

“Oh Celestia no.” You shook your head. “The former. I pick the former a hundred times over.”

“Why not both?” With a tug, you were pulled into Kaeya’s damp arms, the fabric of his sleeves sticking to you just as much as your own clothes were. “The rain’s timing is always water-tight.”

The cold of his skin seemed through to your own, leaving you trembling in Kaeya’s hold. In response he only pulled you closer.

You could have sworn snowflakes were falling instead of a drizzle as the storm slowly eased.

“You are so not funny.”

“But sometimes it helps to weather the storm with bad puns and rain.” Kaeya shot back.

“I hope you-”

The sound of water hitting the ground and the platform above you, slowly faded away as ice touched your lip when Kaeya’s thumb grazed the skin. “Sorry, you had a stray strand of hair there.”

You whispered a thank you for his help, the words breathing against Kaeya’s skin as you both simply stopped and stared at each other.

The the single star was always a staple in your mind when it came to Kaeya, how it seemed to twinkle just like the lullaby you had been sung as a child, but in the gloom of a dreary playground it was easy to see a galaxy of stars in his gaze as Kaeya’s eye locked on you.

His thumb still on your lip, you took a chance, heart fluttering as you got your choked sentence out. “Can I kiss you?”

“I-”

“And I swear if you answer me with another joke.” You warned, eyebrows pinched together.

Just like before, he laughed, not even so much as bothering to hide the way he was chuckling at your expense. “No, I wouldn't joke about this.”

The rain had fully stopped by the time Kaeya’s lips were on yours, leaving only the sound of his clothes rustling when he pulled you closer. Arms wrapping around your waist until you were on top of his lap, legs straddling Kaeya under you as you try to get comfortable between having bark chips digging into your knees and avoiding hitting your head on the platform above you. Cold seeping through you all the way to your bones.

Frost seemed to be gnawing at your skin by the time you pulled away, panting softly with your eyes half lidded as you watched Kaeya try to catch his breath, too.

His blue head of hair, still sticking to his forehead, hit the beam behind him as Kaeya sighed. “I think it's best we skip that drink.”

You were about to recoil, maybe even ask what's wrong as your mind raced to figure out why he seemed to be switching his tune all of a sudden, only to be stopped by a soft kiss being pressed to your lips once again.

“Not when I have always been able to enjoy being around you without alcohol." Kaeya reassured. "Even if you do hate my sense of humor.”

“That's because it sucks.” You said with a smile, head already dipping down to press your lips to his once more.

Mud still covered the soles of your boots, leaving them a mess you would have to clean later, but that always came with this time of year. Fall, with all its colorful splendor and warm drinks that warmed your hands with one touch, always did have its drawbacks. Plus, you were quickly learning you wouldn't mind the winter coming early as you felt frost nipping at your nose.

[challenger-fan-club]

Warm Downs with Patrick

"good game out there." You smile at Patrick. You playfully hit him on the ass with your tennis racket. "Yeah, can't all be as good as me." He smirked back at you. You couldn't help but lust after him. He's so handsome and cheeky, flirting with you. "We should warm down." You got the two mats at the back of the court and lay them out for you and Patrick to lie down on and stretch. You start by leaning over your thighs and Patrick watches as you bend forward. His eyes feel like they're burning a hole through your skin. You start to move into childs pose, sticking your hips out as wide as possible and put your head to the mat. "Patrick?" You say as he watches you. "Stretching?" You don't look up from the mat and he snaps out of it and he starts stretching his legs out. "Oh I have something I want to try!" Patrick jumps up in the air and rumbles about in his bag. He pulled out a suspicious looking massage gun and watched as Patrick switched it on. He raised his eyebrow slightly as you watched it pulsate back and forth. "Do I even want to know where t hats been?" You laugh as he switches it off. "Oh cmon, it's the new thing, Art got one. It's apparently very good for your muscles. Let me use it on you." You laugh as he suggests it. "not happening." You say as he holds it up to you. "Whats wrong? You might like it!" Patrick smiles. "Don't ya trust me?" He teases as he sits on the mat beside you. You watch as he uses it on his thigh. You watch as his skin ripples and his muscles relax. He moves it over his legs and then to the back of his thigh. "See. Won't hurt ya and if it does, just say and I'll stop." Patrick was so convincing.

You agree as he moves closer to you and holds your legs over his. He moves the pulsating head over your thigh, slowly moving it over your aching muscles. You readjust slightly as he runs it over your calves. "See. feels good right?" You lay back on the mat as it massaged over your body. "Yes Patrick, you were right." You smirk as you allow him to continue to go over your body. He slowly moves it up the inside of your thigh and you jerk slightly as he moves it closer and closer up your legs. You almost whine a little as he holds it along the inside of your body. Patrick is almost getting off on watching you hold a whimper in. He pushes the massage gun against your short, just briefly before moving it back down your legs.

"Turn around." He demands and you lay yourself over his lap and he pulls your top up so he can see your whole back. He runs the massage gun over your shoulders, slowly down your back. Painfully slowly as he teased it against you. He moved it along your spine and you moaned as it felt like it was untying knots that you didn't know you had. Patricks mind is wishing he had a vibrator in his hand and rubbing it all over your body. He wishes that that he had you tied up and teasing your body. He moves the pulsating head over your hips, down the back of your thighs and you almost kick up your legs involuntarily but they held them down. The massage head runs all over your ass and he leaves it there for just a moment and you whine slightly. You can feel Patrick getting hard underneath you. He was definitely fantasizing a little too hard with your ass in the air. You could feel the vibrations reverbing down your ass cheeks to your pussy. The vibrations were making you wet and Patricks hands followed the massage guns head around your body. "I think thats enough." You pout a little as he switches the gun off and you linger on his lap a little too long. "Think I might need a cold shower after that." You laugh. "I'm sure we can do that." He bit his lip as he kept his hands on your hips. "Your place or mines?"

[triptychgrip]

Fic Rec: Transmasc Viktor Character Study

I finished reading born of the ice by ao3 user anirondack this past Monday, but the story has been lingering in my head ever since so I felt compelled to come on here and post about it.

I've been on a gender exploration kick in my fanfic pursuits, and when I came across this robust fic -- 57K, so it definitely took me awhile -- I was delighted to see 1) that it is almost entirely transphobia free, which, frankly, felt quite healing, and 2) it begins charting Viktor's journey towards transitioning all the way from his childhood (6 years old).

There was something so gripping in reading about a pre-transition Viktor dominating the skating world as Victoriya Dmitriyevna in the Women's Singles division, and then making the choice at the height of his fame/success to come out as his true self. While it is not meant to be an accurate depiction of what a transmasc Russian athlete would have had to deal with in actuality, the emotion and stakes depicted felt extremely authentic, and make you root for Viktor to find his happiness. Best of all, while it touches heavily on his gender identity journey, it's about far more than that, as well. I was particularly appreciative of the scenes that capture Viktor's melancholy closer to when we know canon starts (which takes place well after he gets top surgery and starts taking testosterone).

It was really hard to pick an excerpt from this fic to share because there are so many captivating/poignant moments, but I've settled on a scene between Yakov and Viktor, taking place around the time that Yakov is confirming registrations for Russian Nationals.

This takes place shortly after Yakov learns of Viktor's gender dysphoria, and begins when he asks him to decide which division -- men's or women's -- he will compete in.

----

“You can’t switch back and forth between the two, either. You have to pick one and stick with it.”

“I know.”

Yakov nods. He looks a little gentler than usual, which means he only looks partly inflated. He holds out his hand and Victor hands the form back. Yakov returns it to the pile and covers it with another form for someone else - hers is already filled out, with her full name and everything. Victor feels a soft pang of jealously and swallows it. “That’s all. Back to practice. Your step sequence is looking choppy. You’d better not be binding again. You know I won’t hesitate to withdraw you from the Grand Prix. I don’t care how well you did in Budapest.”

“I’m not, I promise.” Victor stands up and ties his hair back, then walks inelegantly out of the office and back to the rink, his blade covers making loud thunking noises on the rubber mats.

He thinks about it as he practices his step sequences, which do not get any less choppy. He thinks about it as he walks back to his apartment in the commons with his skates slung over his shoulder. He thinks about it as he showers and drags himself through the same dinner as always - protein and salad and more protein - and does his stretches and lifts weights and watches TV on his new TV set. He goes into the bathroom and stares at his naked body in the mirror and covers his chest with his hands and turns from side to side. It would be very difficult for him to blend into the men’s figure skating crowd, but he already doesn’t belong in the women’s division either. He faces his reflection head-on and looks at his hips - slim, but wider than is ideal for his jumps. Victor likes his hips now. They’re somewhere between masculine and feminine and he likes the androgyny of them, and how they don’t ache as much as some of the girls on the Russian team who have wide hips and knee and back pain.

Victor draws himself into his free program’s starting position, back curved forward and to the right, one arm across his face, and peeks at himself from under his elbow. It’s a very hidden position. It distorts him, makes his body look different. Featureless. The curve of his chest is only distinguished because there’s no spandex covering it. Victor sighs and drops his arms, then leans against the sink and runs the tap. He washes his face with cold water and rests his elbows on the porcelaine. He thinks.

One option is a huge challenge, the other unbearable. One will wear down his body faster, and one will wear down his mind. Neither feel like particularly good options, but Victor meets his own gaze and he knows what he’s going to do.

You can read the full story here

[rolandrockover]

Do You Wanna Touch Me Now

What can you call something like this? A review of a Kiss song that was not recorded to completion and never officially released? If you ask me Phantom Entry doesn't sound too bad, and also kind of Kiss-like.

So, who among us Kissians doesn't inevitably think of the often mentioned Do You Wanna Touch Me Now, the only leftover from the Revenge (1992) sessions, which Paul had written with this Skid Row guy, but ultimately didn't make it onto the album. For a long time, even a very long time if you want to do yourself the displeasure of measuring your life in time, this one was considered pretty much a Holy Grail among ever-searching fans.

Until it was leaked on a mainstream platform, just like that. Out of the blue. After 30 years. (0) So, it's precisely this tiny blip that makes our little head trip here possible in the first place, so shhh, all this is top secret, of course. Let us therefore try to be gratefully and humbly accept what this may offer us.

Firstly, we have the long-range main riff that also opens the song, which can best be described as massive and anything but bad. If Take Me's (1976) chorus riff comes to mind, that would be pretty close. If you were to dance a few steps further and stop at the end with spread legs in a self-assured pose, then we would even have a bull's eye. On top of that, you get a Mr. Speed-style lick as a sort of calling card (1). This works in much the same way as the Roadrunner in the cartoons likes to stick out his tongue before he meeps and blasts off at the speed of light.

Anyway, to my ears it seems as if, in the overall context of the song's structure, it harbors a certain short-sighted, extroverted attitude that is unwilling to take the final step and whose own unrequited expectations unfortunately become its undoing. In simple terms, it promises more than it means to deliver (2).

Kind of like a long-armed boxer with a handful of excellent swinging hooks in his repetoire, with which he is able to send his opponent to the mat very safely and quickly, only to make the fatal mistake of letting go of his opponent too early and using his additional light-footed skills just to put on a little extra show for the audience (and himself), which unfortunately has little to do with the fight. And with that, I've basically already given away the verses and the bridges.

And these sound like a continuously alternating vivid, but still somewhat unsatisfying mixture of The Elder's (1981) The Oath (3), Mr. Blackwell (4), and now dear people fasten your seatbelts, Welcome to the Jungle (1987) respectively its main riff. Which should come as no surprise once you consider that in 1991 Guns N' Roses were probably the biggest rock band on this planet alongside Metallica (5).

And so it goes back and forth until you eventually reach the mid-part section, which is not much more than a big brake pad, led by Detroit Rock City's (1976) cinematic widescreen riffs, those that follow its super iconic pulsating intro, and to which you literally have no choice but to imagine Paul leisurely and majestically swinging his arm out wide. Still, you're not supposed to enjoy it to the full, because after just one run-through, the fun is over again and it moves like a souped-up tractor at adle in the direction of Black Sabbath and Iron Butterfly. This is noticeable in a passage that sounds as if somewhere the beginning of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (1968) was stuck in a loop. On steroids, of course.

And somewhere in between a guitar solo must have been envisioned, although unfortunately it never materialized. Which is regrettable, but not necessarily essential for the sake of this cause.

But hey, since when can beggars be choosers?

Side Note:

(0) Hardcore Insiders not included, which in turn should include myself.

(1) And from the first refrain even a riff appendage in the guise of Plaster Caster's (1977) bridge melody, as well as another old buddy, this time from the future, who can be found on Sonic Boom from 2009 and beyond (which we can talk about another time).

(2) So much for the gratitude.

(3) I (1981) would also fit the bill, but The Oath even more so. Just think of its characteristic opening.

(4) That AC/DC Back in Black thing we already talked about here.

(5) On the other hand, I wouldn't necessarily accuse them of intent.

And no, Do Yo Wanna Touch Me Now is not a link, just a photo. All other links are real, by the way, and highlighted:

Do You Wanna Touch Me Now (1991/92)

Take Me (1976)

Mr. Blackwell (1981)

The Oath (1981)

Welcome to the Jungle (1987)

Plaster Caster (1977)

Detroit Rock City (1976)

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (1968)

[myunluckyjourney]

legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees

YAY, MY STORY, AND NOT THE BCIG ONE. There are currently two chapters up on AO3, as of February 4, 2024! I'm not sure if I'm going to include romance, so tell me if you think I should include romance LATER in the story! This story will 100% contain Passive Nightmare, Dream, and OCs! I'm not sure what others to include! It changes canon a bit but hopefully not too much. Later, it will change things up though! Like... LATER later. Hope you enjoy, broskis! - Cas

( border by @saradika ) ( story and Sylvian are by @myunluckyjourney) ( Dreamtale is by @jokublog ) ( also available on AO3, by the same story name )

Sylvian’s breath came in ragged gasps as she ran through the forest, her bright orange hair matted to her forehead with sweat and dirt. The person was utterly disoriented, the chaos of the surrounding forest closing in on her. The six white and orange ears on her head twitched, straining to catch any sounds of what was following her over her pounding heartbeat.

The sunlight that poured from the trees of the forest would have been beautiful to her, if it weren’t for the possible danger she was in at the moment. The forest was much greener than anything she had ever seen before. Not that she had ever seen a forest in person, of course.

With a frustrated and animalistic growl, she shook her head in an attempt to shake the confusion out. “Focus,” she muttered to herself, trying to remember her mother’s voice. The mutter came out as more of a snarl than she intended. She tried to take a deep breath but knew that she more than likely wouldn’t have time to recuperate her rapidly spinning thoughts. She tried to stop the storm brewing in her young mind, but the peace she sought to find was ever elusive, just as it had been all of the time before.

What would her mother say? Take deep breaths and wait for the smoke to clear? She would but, judging from the sounds she had heard when she woke up here, she was more than likely being followed. Or, rather, chased.

She could practically taste the sharp tang of panic, alongside the faint taste of iron in her mouth. Her hand clutches at her wounded side, trying desperately to stop some of the bleeding. How long has she been running now? It felt like ages but, in reality, it was probably only a few moments. Her monster blood had given her more of a resistance to fatigue but, given how long it had been, her sprinting at the fastest speed her little legs could take her, it wouldn’t be long before she got tired out.

She decided to choose a random direction. Judging by the fact that they were in a forest, she’s guessing that it wasn’t anywhere familiar to her. Her small paws crunch on the leaves below her, sticks breaking off into her feet, cutting into them. She didn’t have time to think about that though. Her eyes frantically flicker back and forth, searching desperately for any sign of civilization.

The forest almost seemed to come alive around her, whispers of movement setting her long, striped tail to bristle up in fear. She pauses for a moment, waiting for any sign that it was still following her. There’s complete silence for a second. There’s no animals, there’s no wind, just silence.

It’s like her mother warned her: when nature is silent, something big is going to happen.

Suddenly, the loud crunching of feet on leaves startles her out of her thoughts. It was still following her. There was something there, just beyond sight. Something that practically made her hackles rise in terror.

When she tries to start running again, she trips over a root of an old tree. She lands on her hands and knees, cutting them open on rocks and sticks that plunged into her skin. She cries out but quickly rushes back up onto her feet. Despite being young, she was full-on in survival mode.

Her instinct takes over entirely, she bolts away from the place she fell, becoming a blur. The world narrows down to the pounding of her feet against the earth, the sound of rapidly crunching leaves behind her, and the desperate and instinctual need to hide from whatever was following her.

She felt like her lungs were going to collapse, that she was going to collapse at any moment. Her vision was like a tunnel now, her eyes desperately searching for any sign of freedom from this place.

She bursts from the tree line, her lungs searing with the effort of this fight or flight response. Before her stood a newer-looking sign that read “El pueblo de Alonia”. The words were a lifeline to the fearful hybrid. Without pausing to process what the sign could possibly say, Sylvian limped into the village, her body protesting with pain and exhaustion.

Soon, a crowd started to form. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and concern. They watched this strange creature; seemingly a mixture of a human and monster, which was unheard of; emerge from the forest. They stare down at the young girl, their eyes wary and distrustful.

Her yellow eyes flickered over the crowd that had formed around her. Her body ached and stung, and exhaustion seemed to cling to her very soul, but beneath it all stood a familiar feeling: the feeling of judgment. The feeling of being like an injured and cornered wild animal, desperate for any chance of escape.

From somewhere deep in the shadows, a bit away from the scene, two lilac-colored eyes stare at Sylvian. The equal parts of caution and sympathy in their depths is almost tangible. But despite the feeling of sympathy, the observer refuses to intervene, instead choosing to watch the scene carefully. The observer decides to remain rooted in the shadows, a silent witness to the unfolding scene.

The person watches as Sylvian hisses in an animalistic manner and the villagers’ faces twist in fear as the girl swipes her dark claws at them. The dark red claws glint in the sunlight, swishing down with an almost lethal force. One of the younger villagers stumbles back, holding his arm in obvious pain, his eyes wide with terror.

The other villagers gasp in fear and shock, almost all of them retreating back a few steps in order to not become victims to the young girl’s deadly claws. With a final hiss, she scurries away, leaving a trail of crimson red blood behind her. The villagers, obviously scared of the girl despite her being an obvious young age, decide to go on about their days after a moment.

The curious onlooker watches with fascination as the townsfolk scurry about with their days. Even from the large tree he was perched on, he can hear the excitement and fear in the hushed gossip around the community. Anticipation builds in the village for what would surely be the talk of the town in the next few days. But who is this figure causing such a stir? Who was this girl with bright orange hair and piercing yellow eyes? Only time would tell.

[10blue10]

Hunters Being Hunted

‘Childhood Friends AU’

(A/N: this is based on the Nightfall series by Le-Letha on AO3 and FFN. Highly recommended if you want feral!Hiccup and tons of platonic Hicctooth love.)

A sleek black dragon prowled through a twilit forest, alert for danger. His auricles were perked up, listening. His every footstep was careful and precise. Perched on his shoulders, his dearest friend and soulmate was also keeping an eye out. They were hunting - but their prey was not of flesh and blood.

Their long lost mother had called his best-beloved-one ‘Hiccup’ and the black dragon ‘Toothless’. They still thought of themselves with those names. She was the one who taught them how to find and break the traps used by Vikings, that they learned to hate and fear, to trap and hurt and kill dragons, their family.

His companion let out a hiss, and Toothless froze, one paw still in the air. In front of them was a mat of fallen pine needles that both could tell had been recently disturbed. Hiccup jumped down off his back and picked up a nearby stick to poke it with, revealing the tell-tale gleam of sharp metallic jaws.

Toothless snarled. So did Hiccup. Bad that trap bad he growled. Not-like!

Not-like Toothless huffed in agreement. Hiccup poked at the jaws with the stick until they snapped shut with a loud crack. Both young dragons flinched. When they were sure the trap wouldn’t bite them, they crept closer, ever cautious. Two chains were stuck into the dirt, anchoring the trap to the ground.

Hiccup wrapped his clever paws around one chain and tugged with all his might, but it was stuck fast. He growled in frustration. Toothless nudged him aside and opened his jaws to fire a blast at the chain. Hiccup swatted his nose and hissed no! No no no too loud hush you hush. They had to be more careful.

Fixing his stare on the chain, Hiccup observed the shallow angle it was stretched at, and followed it in his mind’s eye. He wasn’t sure how he knew to do this. It was just something he seemed to know, the same way he knew how to tell if a rock would hold his weight on a cliff or crumble away beneath him.

Slowly but surely, his gaze ran from the trap and the chain to a big, tall tree. He looked back and forth, turning the idea over, remembering similar traps they had broken in the past. Hiccup dragged his stick through the dirt to the tree and beckoned to his dearest-one. Toothless padded over to join him at once.

Dig here Hiccup prompted, scratching at the dirt with his own claws to show the right place. At least, he thought it was the right place. Toothless set to work. It wasn’t long before his claws snagged in the links of the buried chain. At first he panicked, but Hiccup soothed him and carefully pulled them away.

A bit more digging, and they found the end of the chain. It had been driven into one of the roots. Now all they had to do was pull it out. Hiccup grasped it with his paws, Toothless with his jaws, and they heaved. And heaved. And heaved. Until they were both aching and exhausted, and the chain was still stuck fast.

The two of them would not be deterred. Toothless, who had never been as patient as his other half, decided to solve the problem by simply blasting the root. It shattered into pieces, embers flying everywhere. Hiccup leapt forwards to stamp on the little glowing sparks before they could catch in the dry tinder.

He narrowed his eyes and growled at Toothless, who showed no concern for almost starting a forest fire. It was only posturing, and soon he nuzzled his beloved one instead, praising you good you clever you for Toothless’ much quicker and less tiring idea. At least until Toothless purred a bit too smugly.

Their work wasn’t done yet, of course. There was still another chain to pull out, but the second time was easier. Once the trap was unsecured, Hiccup leapt onto Toothless’ shoulders again. He grasped the trap with his forepaws, curling his claws around it, and with a powerful downbeat, leapt into the air.

This forest was near the coast. Toothless flew laboriously to a cliff, and dropped the trap over the edge. It tumbled down, bouncing off the rocks to plunge into the water below, never to be seen again. Good gone gone now not-come-back! Hiccup shrieked triumphantly. Toothless hissed shh at him.

Too late - they could hear something bad. The unmistakable, guttural, discordant sounds of Vikings. Toothless cast about, and spotted a ship floating on the water. Hiccup slapped his shoulder; he dodged that way without question.  A sharp flying-thing shot past where he would have been.

The hunters had become the hunted. Toothless beat his wings hard and flew higher into the air, turning away from the floating ship and fleeing inland.

No no back go back! Hiccup tugged at his ear-flap. Toothless shook him off.

Not go back not safe no no no bad Vikings bad! the Night Fury roared.

Not safe bad Vikings bad hunt dragons must-stop me you us.

Toothless slowed, considering. Me you us stop hunters? Alone us?

Us strong us clever us fast. Toothless fast and best Hiccup praised.

Encouraged by his best-beloveds pride and faith in him, Toothless took a deep breath and turned. Us not-can fight hunters alone. Need help. Need flock.

Hiccup squirmed eagerly on his shoulders. Yes yes yes good flock help yes.

They flew back to the mountainside where their flock-mates were sleeping after a long days hunting away from the nest. Toothless landed on an outcrop and roared wake up! Vikings here vikings hunt bad must-stop come help!

The three dragons lurched awake in a panic; they’d all been curled up in a nice warm pile and now they were getting tangled, snarling at each other. By the time all of them were awake and on their paws, they realised something wasn’t  quite right. Where vikings where? Bites Tail asked Hiccup-and-Toothless.

Vikings there replied Hiccup, pointing towards the sea. Must-stop come help.

Scurrying gurgled a laugh. Too far vikings not-can hunt us us safe here.

Hiccup growled at her. Not safe bad Vikings bad must-stop now! he insisted.

Us safe retorted Muddy Digger. Vikings not-can hunt us us too high, us safe.

None of them felt in danger from the humans; they didn’t understand that the Vikings would still trap dragons, maybe even their flock mates, and Hiccup didn’t know how to explain it. He didn’t even know how he knew it was true.

Of all of them, only Toothless could grasp the idea of ‘stop Vikings now so they’re not a threat later’. He didn’t know how to explain this either, but he had a better idea anyway. We brave, Toothless retorted. We not-scared. You scared you not-brave not-can help! Us go fight hunters not-need you, you scared he mocked, crouching as if afraid. His flock mates growled at him.

You scared you all not-want help fine-then stay here Toothless snorted boldly.

Me not-scared! cried Scurrying. Not-scared no no Vikings no no no not me!

You help? Hiccup asked eagerly. Us stop Vikings not-can alone. You help yes?

Yes yes yes me help yes she chittered happily, rearing up to nuzzle them both.

Muddy Digger scratched himself and said me help yes me yes will-try yes.

Hiccup purred happily, grinning a dragonish grin. Toothless looked smug.

Us fight Vikings how yes how how? Bites Tail wondered. The tip of her tail flicked back and forth in anticipation, until Toothless wanted to bite it himself.

It was a good question though. Hiccup thought hard. He knew they couldn’t use their fire; it would be too bright, and then they wouldn’t see in the dark as well, and the Vikings might see them. As he looked around, his eyes landed on some nearby boulders that had tumbled from higher cliffs, and he purred.

Soon they were flying back towards the coast. Bites Tail, Scurrying and Muddy Digger were all carrying boulders with them. By the time they got back to the forest, the Vikings were moving through it. Toothless’ keen eyes and keener hearing meant he could track them as they trudged past all those big trees.

The humans were heading towards a big clearing. Perhaps there was another trap there. Once he was sure no dragons were in the way, Hiccup gestured for Scurrying to drop her rock down into the clearing. It fell like, well, a stone and broke off many branches on the way, before slamming into the ground below.

Now there were many screams coming from the Vikings, and it was very funny. Muddy Digger dropped his boulder on what a human would think of as the left of the first one. It made the tall trees bend and buckle and crack like gigantic twigs. Bites Tail dropped her rock on the right side, with the same results.

As soon as their burdens were released, the dragons flew out of bow shot. The plan worked! Soon the Vikings were fleeing back to their ship. When they emerged from the forest and scrambled down to the shore, Toothless and Hiccup and all their friends roared in triumph. You bad you go now get-lost!

Hiccup’s final delighted shriek turned into a yawn. The dragons flew back to the cliffs again. Toothless found an overhang to sleep under, and made a little cave with his wing that Hiccup snuggled into. The young dragons fell asleep, with a new story to tell their friends at home, and all was right with their world.

[the-firebird69]

There's a huge number of people that are wondering about this Aussie car and the thing is driving it but it's a Chevy he is known to drive Chevys but the Chevy was driven to the levy but the levy is dry and that's his Chevy and that's what the songs about because they find out that Tommy have took it all and the plant Levi is our son's clan and Jesus Christ ghwb and that stuff and that's what it is. But yeah we're going to make an Aussie car would be awesome

Thor Freya

This stuff is getting really gross and the threats and more and they want Brad to do something and he won't and he knows what to do and there's a lot of stuff happenings that are this very mean it's by Tommy f the guy is out of control and we're going to have to stop him. Tons of people want him dead and this lady actually killed the clone it's not an actual kid you don't know it this is a kid it looks like him but he's trying to say it

We're going ahead and seen in punta Gorda they did fire a bunch of government people but not as much as Tommy have says but they did fire a lot and it's a very big number it's like six with her up to right now 65% and that's pretty high and it's still going on and after they trying to attack who knows it will increase because the walls I'm going to cause them to try and leave and attack to get the jobs back and a lot of people live out of town that are government here and elsewhere they're not in government in the same place they are in case something happens it's like 80% or 90% of them have that living arrangement and tonight it will probably go up to 85% and I'll leave just the leaders and it's sucking. Right now I'm getting the third the second third of the autos and trucks and so forth motorcycles boats recreational vehicles all that stuff campers everything you can think of is coming out and we are also starting a prefabricated house business here in Florida and all over the world we're putting these out it doesn't take to the tango with houses they won't buy them unless they're in the business they're buying the hotels and apartments and this is different it only took a little bit of time for us to adapt and they love it they want it now and they want concrete ones and we're doing that too and the lightweight and they're made with panels we actually assemble the panels we don't cast a house and we're moving fast very fast in in Africa says we should cast houses and deliver them and we tried it and it works in the house is a small but they have less lifestyle without it we tried different configurations but small houses on little streets works the best tons and tons of small houses and concrete is the best out there it's safe it helps people you love all the thing with sand and just stick it down and it's done and the utilities hook up to the side and that's it and you can cover it with covers we have covers we made about 500 million houses this week huge numbers of apartments are all cast and they're strong we're going ahead with other stuff but people should know this is working and it's his idea to make those small houses and I'm going to propose them here they're called small houses they don't want tiny houses anymore like the 12x20 and it's even a lot of mats that like them and they'll probably do them elsewhere and they are for higher-ups apartments are for lower level people and Matt wants to make a few of them to see how it goes

And my husband says you make up for it I'm making like a really wonderful clubhouse and he's starting to think of something that's not bad and there's a small fee it's not like a condo fee and the place could have video games a pool and TV and entertainment area and so people are interested it sounds like a nice time and you can have you can rent different rooms in the clubhouse and have decent sized rooms and for functions and meetings and all sorts of things so it's interesting is being gained is not just a blase idea so it's going to go forwards with a lot of the stuff going on but really that's going to be a war tonight here small one and it's going to be awful

Hera

We're on it we need it to fix something and he's going to get back and we'll talk about here in a moment

Thor Freya

Olympus

[salmonskinrolltf]

Short: The Comments Section

Michael wasn't having a good day. He had just been rejected by the third girl in a week. He supposed he wasn't getting anywhere with the ladies because he still looked like a kid even though he was 25. But that wasn't his fault!

In order to purge his frustrations, he opened up OnlyFans, making sure to put in headphones so his roommates wouldn't hear. He clicked on a video posted by his favorite creator, SexySadie69, curious to see what it was, because the title was gibberish and the thumbnail seemed pixelated.

It took a while to load, but when it opened, it just showed what seemed to be a live comments page with nothing on it. He tried to click away, but his mouse just turned into a spinning wheel. He was stuck. He didn't notice the light on his laptop's webcam turn on.

A droning sound began to emanate from his headphones. It was unsettling, but also vaguely pleasant. He began to feel warm and calm. That's when the first comment came in.

New Comment: This boy's too neat. Let's mess up that hair a little bit.

He puzzled over the comment, running his fingers through his hair and causing it to stick straight up in a messy tangle.

New Comment: That messy look would be complete with a little stubble, wouldn't it?

Michael found himself agreeing with the comment, but alas he couldn't grow a single hair on his chin to save his life. The droning sound intensified and seemed to rattle his skin, causing fresh growth of stubble to emerge from his cheeks and chin, darkly dusting his upper lip.

New Comment: Oooh, and a nice thick patch of chest hair would do nicely.

When had Michael taken his shirt off? He couldn't remember. One by one, dark speckles appeared on his chest, as if it had started raining. From nipple to nipple, and all the way up to his neck, the dots covered his skin thickly, all at once bursting forth as dark hairs surged forth, poking sharply forward before softening and curling into a lush mat that felt soft to the touch.

He rubbed his chest, enjoying the manly feeling of the hair brushing against his fingertips. His dick hardened in his pants and he began to wonder when Sadie would show up. He hoped she would like his new, manly self, and he would certainly enjoy watching her stroke her firm, hairy pecs. And maybe her beard would be a little longer this time, so... Wait, what was he thinking? He shook his head to clear it, but more and more images of men's chests, asses, and dicks, filled his brain, causing his dick to tremble with desire.

The drone intensified and he gave a satisfied smile. If he wanted men, he was in the right place.

New Comment: The new guy's a bit of a tease, I can tell.

Michael wasn't even reading the comments anymore. He was lost in a blissful haze, hard as a rock. He began to mime jerking off, hoping that one of his OnlyFans viewers might get the hint and tip him enough to get started. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the drawer, but he was making money hand over fist lately. Quite literally.

[1-800-zoro]

indisposed

cw: drunk f!reader, smooches

summary: reader can't hold her liquor, and it always seems to get her in trouble...

a/n: my first zoro story! i hope you all enjoy! ♡

The salty air of the see whipped YN’s hair back and forth. Nights like this were usually spent in the cabins, but tonight was different. Everyone agreed a night of drinking would lift their spirits.

Most nights, Y/N avoided alcohol if she could. Not that she minded it, but she knew herself better than anyone. Too much, and she’d be rendered useless.

At first, she didn’t drink. She was more than happy to just spectate on the sidelines. She could still have fun watching everyone else while sticking with her juice.

“Oh, Y/N, please try this drink I made. Just a sip will do,” Sanji practically begged the woman. He would give anything to please her, show her that he could make a drink perfect for her.

“Please, I couldn’t. Someone has to stay sober to keep watch,” Y/N waved off the notion. She was gentle as she patted his knee.

"Please, one sip is all I ask," Sanji held the bright blue drink in front of her face. He watched her face contort as she began to deny him again.

"Awe, come on, Y/N. One drink won't hurt!" Nami called out to her friend. She held up her own bright blue drink; this was drink number... oh, she'd lost count a long time ago anyways.

Y/N sighed softly. Before she knew it, the whole crew was cheering for her to drink, save a person or two. She accepted the drink and took a swig. It was sweet like expected, but there was something underlying that she just couldn't resist.

One drink became two, and two became four. Soon enough, Y/N could barely sit up straight. She could feel her cares loosen just like her muscles. Her laugh became louder, and her stories grew more wild.

"Is Zoro still in the nest?" Robin asked as she milked her own drink. She had the self control Y/N longed for.

"I'll check," the woman shot up, stumbling a bit in her place. She had to hold on to Franky's shoulder as she drifted from the group. Getting up the ladder was nothing short of a miracle. She practically had to crawl to hoist the last of herself into the nest. With a huff, she collapsed on the floor.

"Oi, you good?" A gruff voice broke the smooth silence of the room. Zoro looked up from the bottle of sake he was putting away.

Y/N grinned at the sight of him, her cheeks burning red. Was it from the alcohol, or the swordsman before her? She surely didn't know.

"Oh, there you are! Just the guy I was looking for," Y/N giggled under her breath. This was a stark contrast to the calm and collected composure she held. Even she hadn't seen this side of herself in so long.

"Are you drunk?" Zoro put the bottle down, and moved closer to her. He scanned over her face for any discrepancies. He noticed her gaze on him lasted longer than usual.

"Maybe," Y/N sat up and moved closer. Their faces were a brush of the nose away. Her eyes kept flicking down to his lips.

"Who knew the famous Y/N knew how to get drunk?" Zoro teased as he helped Y/N on to the mat on the floor. He knew he'd have to carry her down when it came time. How she even got up here, he had no idea...

"I get drunk! Just not around you," Y/N gently patted his arm.

"What do you mean, not around me?" Zoro asked, growing a bit defensive. It was like a switch had flipped in him.

Y/N immediately panicked, shaking her head. "No, no, not like that! I didn't mean, I, uh. Fuck, no, I just meant," she tripped over her words. It was like she was running in a circle with no end in sight.

"What did you mean, Y/N? Spit it out," Zoro looked her dead in the eyes. He watched her as she shrunk into herself a bit.

"When I get drunk, I get a little... kissy. Especially around people I like," Y/N confessed, more to her lap than the moss haired man before her.

"Kissy? How the hell does drinking make you kiss people?" Zoro slightly tilted his head.

"I don't know! Whenever I get around people like you, I just wanna smash our lips together. Stupid drink," Y/N grumbled the last part, huffing as she collapsed on the mat.

Zoro almost got a chuckle out of it, but his brain was too busy trying to process what she said. If he was understanding what she was saying...

"So you wanna kiss?" Zoro asked.

Y/N sat up with a pout, nodding. "So bad."

Silence hung between the two like moonlight. It filled the room, in every nook and cranny. The feeling was too much for one inebriated Y/N. Slowly, she tried to stand up.

A strong hand grabbed for her arm, and gently tugged her down. All at once, she landed in Zoro's lap. Before she could process what was happening, a set of chapped lips were on her's. The taste of sake mixed with the aftermath of Sanji's fancy drink.

"Zoro," Y/N whimpered softly between kisses. She felt hyperaware of the hands locking her into place. Zoro deepened the kiss, moving one hand to hold the back of her head. Now she really couldn't move, even though she had no desire to.

They eventually settled into a rhythmic pattern. Neither were eager to pull away, especially with how entrancing the feeling was. Y/N had longed for this moment since she first joined the crew, and likewise on Zoro's part. It had been a moment years in the making.

Y/N was the first to pull back, her lips swollen and her eyes heavy. She leaned back into Zoro's hand as she looked at his lips. "I, I want more," she admitted.

Zoro shifted his hand to cup her ass. In one swift motion, he lifted her with ease as he stood. He pressed kisses to her neck, leaving a trail in his wake. A silent agreement that he'd give her anything she liked.

"Take me to bed, please," Y/N begged, her head rolling back. A fire lit deep inside her, deep in the pit of her belly.

"I can't wait that long," Zoro spoke between kisses. He couldn't spend a minute longer without her, and he didn't. Y/N was his, and he made sure she knew that.

[thecollectionsof]

six red roses

@iinthelavenderhazee a little bit of dayasco for you <3

The steam sits heavy on the mirror as Daya paces back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Her towel lies forgotten where she had tossed it, beads of water trailing down her chest as she paces and tries to stop the anxiety from creeping in any further than it already has.

What if she doesn’t like it?

What if she went too far?

Daya narrowly avoids catching her thigh on the side of the sink and it pulls her out of her thoughts just enough to stop and take stock of the situation. So she sent Bosco some roses after she had offhandedly mentioned she liked them, no big deal. Yes, she was talking to Jasmine at the time, and yes, Daya never signed her name on the order, but still. That was to be expected, at this point.

Your order has been delivered! mocks her from the screen of her phone, the notification that had sent her into this spiral in the first place too jovial for the stress it was causing her. Most people would probably be happy to know that their bouquet of flowers was delivered, or at least they would be glad to see it got there, but ever since she had placed the order a part of her mind had been begging for it to never come to fruition.

Bosco might never know that it was from her, but what if she thinks it’s from someone else? What if she thinks it’s Jasmine, and then they talk and fall in love and Daya is stuck watching it all happen and it’s all her fault?

No, that was catastrophizing. What would probably happen is that Bosco would get the flowers, wonder about them for a day—if that—and then either enjoy them or throw them away. That’s all. Her name wasn’t on it, Bosco had no way of knowing that she was the one behind it.

Ding!

That doesn’t stop the bolt of anxiety from shooting through her as her text tone rings through the bathroom.

Bosco

Thanks for the flowers, baby

Fuck. Shit. Okay, nevermind. Maybe she can play it cool?

What are you talking about?

She wastes no time in turning her phone off, despite knowing that she’ll turn it right back on when she gets a reply. She just doesn’t want to see the indication that she’s texting back. And for a moment she almost believes it, almost believes that maybe, just maybe, Bosco will let this go.

They don’t.

Bosco

The roses. On the receipt, it said it was purchased by Daya Betty

I really like them ❤️‍🔥

They really like them. Okay. That’s… well, that’s something. At least.

She hopes that they don’t look it up, but at least she’s done an okay job at keeping her foot out of her mouth, not mentioning meanings, or flower language, or the number of roses she had gotten them having any meaning at all.

Oh, yeah

I’m glad you like them ❤️‍🔥

She groans, picking up her towel and running it roughly through her hair, making it stick up in weird places when she takes it away. This is what she gets for trying to do something cute, now she sent a flower that’s known for being very romantic to her very cute, very hot, very funny friend who she’s been trying to hide her crush on for years.

It was all ruined by a receipt.

Because Daya bought her six red roses.

And six red roses meant “I want to be yours.”

—

It’s two days later when Daya is startled out of her nightly tradition of sitting on the couch and pointedly not making dinner by the sound of a knock on the door to her apartment. She’s never been quick to open the door, but she’s slower today, trying to remember if she ordered anything or invited anyone over, but she can't seem to recall anything that would arrive today. Maybe a package came early?

She checks the peephole, and, as expected, finds nobody on the other side. It takes another second to unlock the door and undo the deadbolt, but when she finally opens the door she pauses, staring down at the welcome mat in front of her.

Pink roses. There's a bundle of seven (she double and triple counts and it's seven) pink roses next to a sheet of paper sitting on her rainbow welcome mat. She looks around to see if anyone else sees this, then scoops them into her arms and retreats back into her apartment.

She looks at the card first, not being able to help it. It's not hard to guess who sent it, but even still, the thought of Bosco giving her a bouquet in return, especially since she hadn't been talking about wanting one? It made the butterflies in her stomach that seemed ever-present when Bosco was around kick into high gear.

It feels unfair that you don't have some flowers too.

Hope you like them.

Love, Bosco

She knows what the next step is. The pink roses, the specific number... it feels a bit too thought out for this to just be her returning the favor in a completely platonic way, right?

Her fingers fly quickly across the screen as she hastily types in a search to Google, somehow miraculously avoiding any typos.

Seven pink roses meaning

And in big, bold letters, she gets the reply she needs.

I'm infatuated with you.

[crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already]

The Man Needs His Cat

Bucky x fem!reader

Word count: 1,960

Warnings: mentions of animal death, fluff, Tony/Bucky interaction

Summary: Bucky and Reader stumble across a kitten in the woods and Reader is tasked with asking Tony for a huge favor. 

A/N: y'all- I'm head over heels in love with catperson!Bucky

The situation had to be dealt with carefully, (Y/n) knew. She didn't want to come on too strong or he'd be quick to turn her down. Maybe a hypothetical would be the best course of action... She took a breath and pulled her shoulders back. Then, with only a second of hesitation, she entered Tony's lab. 

He greeted her from his hunched over position at one of the many cluttered tables, barely sparing her a glance. In the heat of engineering, he worked on some odd piece of tech he had yet to fully present to the team. She echoed a small 'hello' back and rocked awkwardly back and forth on her feet. 

Still not looking up, Tony indulged the girl with idle conversation. They spoke of their day, of current world news, of the weather. That's how he knew she wanted something. The girl would always engage him in casual conversation just before asking a favor. Tony didn't mind much, of course. If anything, he found it entertaining how intently she tried buttering him up. But today he had quite a bit of work to get done so he wanted to get this show on the road. 

Putting his tools down, he looked at her pointedly with a knowing grin. "Alright kid, what's up?" He asked.

(Y/s)'s eyebrows raised in question, playing dumb. "What do you-" 

"Drop the act, (Y/n)," he chuckled, and grabbed an already greasy rag off the desk next to him to wipe his hands. He stood and made his way to her, tossing the rag back on one of the several tables in the lab. "I know when you want something, so just go on. Ask." He said, his face light with a smirk.

(Y/n) flushed with warmth, embarrassed by his boldness. But she continued anyway, determined to fulfill her promise to Bucky. 

The night before, she and Bucky were on their way home from the movies. It was a beautiful night out and in their comfortable silence, they found themselves on a slight detour through the woods. At some point, Bucky had pulled over off the side of the road and onto a look out.

Bucky, ever the silent communicator, simply stared at (Y/s) confused face with the softest smile on his own, before stepping out of the car. While (Y/n) scrambled to open her door, Bucky walked the couple of feet towards a barrier fence overlooking the river beneath him. His eyes followed the shine of the water as it drowned the boulders lining the river bed. He thought for a second how exciting the challenge of rock hopping sounded, never really having gotten the chance to as a child.

The call of an owl pulled his attention to the tree line which he observed with such intensity that (Y/n) nudging his arm made him tense. She flashed him a smile to calm the surprise on his face and in an instant, his arm was around her, pulling her close. They both looked out at the shadowed woods and (Y/n) was even sure to point out the moon and stars themselves. 

In the silent moments that passed, they both had turned to embrace each other wholly. They stayed like that for a moment and then Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead. Pulling back to look at his warm, loving face, she found acute concern instead. He was glancing just past her head, off into the bush leading down to the river bank. 

"What's the mat-" she asked quietly, shrinking away. 

Bucky pressed his fingers to his lips and hushed her quickly and gently and then slowly gestured to his ear. Listen, he was telling her. 

She didn't hear anything at first. Nothing but the rush of the river below them and the gentle night breeze above them.

But then, just as she was about to ask again, she heard it. The faintest of mewling. Barely audible but definitely there. 

Bucky grasped her shoulders and looked her in the eyes once more before he squeezed them tightly and moved past her. He approached the thicket and hesitated for only a second before pressing forward. The branches hurt his skin but he'd suffered worse.

(Y/n) tentatively called his name to which he responded "I've almost got it." His voice sounded distant and strained and it worried (Y/n) that she could no longer see him through the darkness, being so close to the river and all. But as long as she could hear his grunts of discomfort from the branches whacking him in the face, she remained calm enough. 

Eventually, he emerged. Even in the dark, (Y/n) could see the pure white fluff sticking out between Bucky's fingers. As he approached, the fuzz ball revealed its face from its careful hiding spot in the crook of Bucky's arm and glanced around. Two dark eyes and the palest little nose swung in her direction, its whiskers twitching with cautious curiosity.

A kitten.

The poor thing was trembling but so was Bucky. Placing a hand on his forearm, she beckoned his attention and spoke low.

"What was it?"

To bide his time, he shifted the kit closer to his chest and took a deep breath. He didn't meet her eyes but he mumbled just loud enough to hear.

"A whole box of them but…." He didn't dare finish the sentence and instead held the kitten in front of his face, ignoring the unwarranted feeling of loss he felt for its siblings. Swallowing hard, he finally met the girls soft, understanding eyes and smiled sadly. 

Before she could say anything, the small creature let out another indignant mewl that seemed to reassure Bucky just a bit. With that, (Y/n) moved to his side and slung her arm around his waist.

"Alpine," he mumbled.

"What's that?"

"I think I'll call him Alpine." Bucky said fondly. His eyes never left the baby and the girl knew he was in deep.

"Oooh, I know that look." She tittered. Bucky only stared, his eyebrow creased, questioning. "That's the way you look at someone you love. That's the way you look at me." She said with a blush, nudging him lightly.

His face melted into that soft loving one she cared for so dearly. The kitten settled into the warmth that embraced him as the couple kissed.

"Let's get a move on. It's getting colder and colder by the second and I'm sure this little guy agrees." The kitten mewled one last time.

With a light chuckle, they spared one last glance over the look out before returning to the car where Alpine slept peacefully in Bucky’s lap the whole way home.

The two couldn't help but discuss what they were going to do with little Alpine. Bucky was set on keeping it and had even decided to clear his schedule the next day to make a vet visit. The only issue was their living space. They weren't too sure how Tony would react to them bringing a cat in off the street. But the girl could see how much the kitten meant to Bucky already so she promised to talk to Tony in the morning. 

Well, morning came and now here she was.

Tony crossed his arms impatiently. "Well?" He pressed, tilting his head up.

(Y/n) anxiously grasped her hands in front of her and leaned forward a bit. "What would you say to the idea of us getting a pet?" She stared openly at his face as he stared back at hers. The question bounced around in Tony's head, leaving his eyebrow slightly creased and the room painfully quiet. (Y/s)' nervously raised eyebrow gave him a clue into the situation.

"Right….and who exactly is this 'us' you're referring to? Cause something tells me I'm actually being iced out of this decision." Before she could even get a full breath in, he continued on. "All right, what are we working with, huh? A rabbit? A goldfish? If it's a parakeet, it won't even get past the front door, so help me god." 

The girl shook her head as she let out a laugh. She could tell he wasn't overly fond of the idea. It was clear by the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. But judging by the way his voice didn't fall completely flat, he wasn't opposed to it either….not entirely, anyway.

"No, no. Not quite. It's a cat. A kitten, actually, so there's still time to train it and all," She reassured him. "And Bucky should be getting home any minute from the vet with him if you'd like to say hello."

Tony caught himself before he let his expression drop at the name of the elusive ex soldier. He'd gotten better at watching himself since the two of them moved in. Bucky and (Y/n) weren't together when they did, but being only a few steps down the hallway certainly allowed them a closer relationship.

Tony nodded his head reluctantly and dropped his arms to his sides. 

He followed the girl down the various halls as she recounted how they found the poor kit, and found themselves approaching the common room. Or the family room, as (Y/n) preferred to call it, while simultaneously prattling on about how much time and energy the team wastes pretending to hate each other. Huh.

They could hear the tinkling of a bell being wacked around from down the hallway. As they entered the room, they stopped in the archway and took in the sight before them. 

Bucky sat crisscrossed with his back to them. In his hand was a feather wand, standing out bright purple, blue, and white against the dark brown floor. In front of him, white fluff darted back and forth. There was the smallest sound of tearing as its tiny claws ripped against the carpet, no doubt leaving it frayed.

Tony tried his very best to suppress his dissatisfied grumble...

They watched for a bit as Bucky went back and forth with the kitten. Tony didn't have to look hard at all to see how much the ex soldier cared for the tiny thing. No only because of his undivided attention towards the cat but also because of the many beige bags labeled "PetsPlus+"  full of toys, treats and towers scattered around the sofas. 

He thought it might be good for Bucky to have another companion around. Maybe it would help him relax. Maybe even lighten up a bit.

Tony stepped forward.

"So, uh, I'm not a big fan of funky smells so that's got to be top priority as far as pest control goes with this thing, alright?"

Bucky jumped to his feet and Alpine followed suit, hackles raised. Bucky quickly scooped him up and held him close. "Of course." (Y/n) made her way over to them. "Our rooms are big enough to keep him there most of the time and we have already worked out all the responsibilities between us. We've got it covered."

Tony stepped back a bit looking them up and down, humming. "I expect weekly visits in the family room," he said pointedly, then waved his hand. "Keep it tidy, folks." And with that he left the couple to their new fascination.

Tony lingered at the doorway on the way out. While the couple was distracted, he found himself watching that wretched arm. The dark, intimidating metal turned soft and gentle as it reached out fearlessly to antagonize the tiniest, weakest thing in the room. No hesitation, no fear. Not in Bucky or the kitten. Tony knew then that it stayed, no question.

The man needed his cat. And damn it, he'll get it.

[beann-e]

MHA Characters reacting to you forgetting something at the store

Read Part Two Here

Bakugou

-he’s so fun to write because he’s almost always pissed at everything so i’m guessing you can already sense the energy he has when you say you forgot something

- i’m sure you don’t even have to tell him he can just feel it

Your hands were sweaty as your grip tightned and loosened on your jeans. Hands moving up and down grabbing them in fistfuls. Your teeth grazing against the inside of your mouth as you chewed at it.

Heart racing , head growing hot as you took in a shaky breath.

“ babe yo— “

‘ oh shit he knows ‘

you heard the deep grunt that shook you even more in your seat causing you to shake in fear “ y/n “

“ h-huh “

“ what the fuck did you forget this time “

you smiled softly lips jerking up into a ridged smile instead of a soft one

“ forget ? I don’t — babe I didn’t forget anything “

“ don’t fuck with me y/n “

his voice was harsh “ what did you forget “

you looked to the car mat as you let your words out softly “ d-dinner “

his jaw dropped open as he sat in shock repeating after you

“ d-dinner “ it took him a minute to register what you just said still not registering as you bit at your lip

“ y/n please answer me carefully when I say these next few words “ his grip on the steering wheel tightned

“ you forgot dinner “

“ yes “

“ we went to the store for groceries “

“ yes “

“ for dinner “

“ no “

“ for dinner “ he said louder not wanting to hear your lie again

“ yes “

“ ok so why did you not get dinner “

“ b-because I — I forgot I went In and I didn’t get anything that I said I was going to I got side tracked i’m sorry i’m sorry “

he shook his head in understanding calming down “ yeah — yeah gotcha “

he moved his hands to play a drumbeat on the steering wheel “ no dinner —- got it babe — theres snacks in my backseat but no din din got it “

his voice soared as he just got even more pissed when thinking about what just happened

“ then why the fuck did you let me drive all the way home y/n ? “

he moved to point at his dashboard “ gas baby gas cost money “

he was fuming “ money that I don’t feel like spending on gas — who the fuck wants to drop 40 on gas that won’t even last “

you moved to look out the window “ ok well you don’t have to be sucha meanie about it “

“ BABE YOU FORGOT DINNER “

“ well some people forget more meaningful things “

“ DINNER IS NOT MEANINGFUL TO YOU “ his eyes were wide open as he stared at you in pure shock

you sighed as you tapped your foot on the floor

“ I think some people are just extremely dramatic — we can just go back we have enough gas right now “

“ and you don’t even care “ he let out a small scoff

“ I am in pure amazement that your sitting here — even while i’m driving back to the store—without a care in the world that you were so afraid to speak that you were gonna let us starve until you felt like saying something “

“ hey — at least I said something before you got out of the car “

“ give me the card “

“ what but kats “

“ no your shopping privileges are revoked “

you pouted as you opened your wallet pulling out your family card before placing it in his hand looking up at him “ kats can you get “

“ no “

“ but “

“ i’m sticking to the list “

“ but I just want some ice cream “

he looked at you like you’d just commited a federal crime as his eyes slanted at you

“ as much shit as you brought out the store i’ll be damned if I buy you ice cream “

he moved to open the car door reaching over the driver seat to point at a bag that was open and falling over “ you forgot dinner but bought fucking raisins babe ? how does that make sense? “

“ they looked lonely on the shelf — and I had a sudden craving “

you watched as he rolled down the windows a little before slamming the car door mumbling to himself that he was the new grocery shopper and why did he even allow you to go on your own just for you to spend his money on nonsense — his hard earned money

he cursed you as your voice came out loud through the window crack

“ ICE CREAM BABE — ice crea— “

“ i’m not getting you fucking ice cream you shitty shopper “

you slumped back in your seat crossing your arms as everyone stared at the interaction happening in front of them.

You ignoring them and playing on your phone

you were used to the stares

people didn’t understand how you and your boyfriends relationship worked if you two just went back and forth all the time

they didn’t understand your love that was wrapped up in every disagreement

A case and point of that is when you watched your husband walk back to the car.

His hands full of bags showing off the fact that he didn’t need a cart as he shoved everything in the backseat switching between that and the trunk until he got in the car a small bag tucked into his lap as he sat down

Putting on his seatbelt throwing a bag that slapped you across your face and fell into your own lap

“ eat it and fucking enjoy because “ you watched as he reversed the car head turned back and arm behind the head of your seat

His eyes occasionally sweeping over you

“ it’s salad for the next few weeks since I had to go in the store — I got what I like and your gonna fucking enjoy it “

“ but kats I don’t want salad I wanted pasta I went to the store to get pasta “

his eyes fell on yours as he finally turned back around to put the car in drive voice low as he moved his hand to sit on your thigh squeezing it as he waited for traffic to pass “ or just starve fuck if I care “

You sighed out as you grabbed the spoon that was attached to the packaged icecream his eyes watching you with interest as you smiled brightly after your first spoonful.

He sighed out in happiness as he shook his head

“ god — even after you wasted my gas, made me go In the store and interact with assholes, and even fucking forgot my dinner “

he laughed as he thought about his next words “ I don’t — I don’t love you any less instead I love you more “

[bratkook]

eleven months. (m) myg. one.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: none this chapter. word count: 2.8k author’s note: this chapter is on the shorter side, just diving into them meeting and giving you all a small glimpse into them as individuals! im really excited for this story so let me know what you think, feel free to scream about anything in my inbox bye ily lmao summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

Yoongi loves the rain, really he does. The way the clouds gloom over the city, encompassing it in this darkness that reminds him of underexposed film. He wishes he could always see the world through this filter, always smell the scent of wet soil and tarmac as he makes his way through the streets. Something about hearing the soft patter hitting the sidewalk, bouncing off the rooftops and dripping from the gutters calms him. A soft smile spreads across his face as he exhales the smoke in his lungs, letting the stick hang loosely off his lips while his hands clutch onto his umbrella.

When he stomps his foot into a wide puddle, the cold water splashes up onto his ankle and he grimaces. He hates being caught in the middle of rain. It didn’t matter if he had his umbrella or not, or if he managed to bundle enough for the downpour, he hates stepping into puddles and getting his socks wet. Hates how some of the raindrops that slipped under his umbrella—since it was now raining sideways—have managed to make his cigarette slightly soggy.

Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth this time, he holds it in front of his face with a frown. It was halfway done but no longer burning properly due to how wet it had become. 

What a waste.

As he passes a trash can, he stubs it out fully and tosses it inside, a small pout on his face at the loss of something to fidget with. But then he sees the glowing sign inching closer, the bright neon yellow standing out in the grim weather. The illuminated Rkive360 in the distance stops him from slipping out another smoke, choosing to stuff his unoccupied hand into the pocket of his jeans, moving his legs a little faster to get to his destination.

The bell at the top of the door jingles as he stumbles in, his foot tripping over the small lip of the mat by the door. That was a safety hazard he’d playfully bitch to Namjoon about later. 

“Yoongi, hey!” When he balances out, closing his umbrella and giving it a good shake by the door, he looks up and grins at Taehyung. He spots him standing by a flat spread of clothes a few feet away, folding out some new items as he stares at Yoongi with a genuine smile. His curls flop over his eyes and Yoongi chuckles to himself as he wonders how a guy like him was here folding shirts when he should probably be the face of Gucci or something. 

Well, that’s life. 

“Hey man,” Yoongi mumbles out, his eyes catching the plastic bin beside the door that’s labeled ‘umbrellas here’ in a messy scribble he can only attribute to Taehyung. Not needing to be told twice, he sticks his dripping umbrella upside down into it and shuffles inside the shop, taking a minute to look around like he always did. 

Record stores have always been his safe space, even as a teenager. The amount of time spent in one after school, loitering inside with his friends as he sorted through the racks of CDs and vinyl, exiting with his bag of new goodies that left him excited to get home and play them. It was god sent that his best friend decided to open up his own place years ago, keeping it fully stocked with anything he could imagine. Maybe Yoongi was a little biased, but this was definitely the best shop in the country. 

It’s a welcoming place, pops of color in every corner, tall standing sculptures mixed in with displays of music, autographed albums and posters framed onto the wall behind the counter. It’s the full embodiment of his best friend, down to the tiny KAWS figurines perched beside the register and the music playing through the speakers. The small melody in the background fills his ears once the door is shut, recognizing the song playing as Dang! by Mac Miller and he bobs along as he approaches Taehyung.

“Quick question,” he starts, his hands coming up to shake at his gray hair that was slightly damp from the rain. Taehyung sets the shirt down, resting both of his palms on the table as he leans towards Yoongi with interest. “Any chance you guys miraculously got Seventeen Seconds in your stock this week?”

Taehyung hums in thought, his brows furrowing together as he tries to mentally sort through the massive boxes of new vinyl Namjoon had brought in a few days ago. New shipment comes once a week but every now and then Namjoon goes out of his way to find specific records, never missing with his selection. 

A small flash of blurry trees crosses his mind and then he's smiling at him. “Yeah, we actually got it the other day. Pretty sure Namjoon hunted it down for you since you’ve been asking. It should be in the back.” His thumb points behind him, towards the display tables that held all the LP’s available at the store, a very familiar spot. 

Yoongi mumbles out a thanks as he makes his way over, eyes already locked onto the bin that he knew would hold his prized possession. It’s not until he gets a few feet closer that he sees your crouched frame over a box, figure slightly hidden by a giant CD rack. You’re rummaging through the records, almost making him flinch when you quickly stand back up and find their proper spot in the display. You don’t notice him approaching until he’s right beside you, eyes once again glued to the bins lined in alphabetical order once the initial shock of another person subsided.

That’s when you give him a glance, sending him a soft smile as you slip the record in its rightful spot, crouching back down to grab the next bunch. His hand pauses on the edge of the bin at the glimpse of something familiar, momentarily distracted by your shirt. When you stand back up, feeling him staring at you, you slowly turn to face him once more with your eyebrows raised up in question.

He takes note of the tag clipped to your shirt, it reads Sana but he’s used to dealing with Sana and you are definitely not her. You’re new.

The smile remains on your lips as you rest your hip against the edge of the table holding up the record bins, preparing to put your best customer service voice to use. His eyes glance at the writing on your shirt again, cracking a grin when he confirms it's a New Order shirt tucked into your black jeans. “You like New Order?”

Your smile falters slightly, your arms crossing in front of you as you narrow your eyes at him in defense, not entirely sure how to take his tone. “If you’re about to ask me to name five of their songs I’ll have to walk away to avoid getting fired.”

His smile widens at that, soft and gummy, breaking his cold appearance as his arms raise up in front of him in surrender. “No, just an observation.”

Your demeanor softens again, your arms sagging back down to your sides and smiling once more. “Good, it's my first day on the job and I’d really like to keep it.”

Yoongi chuckles softly, going back to his searching for his precious album, leaning over the third bin dedicated to bands starting with the letter C. His nimble fingers flip through the LPs until he gets to the Cure, sorting through Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, passing Pornography until he reaches Wish and his brows furrow, flicking back and forth as if the album he wanted would magically appear.

“Need help finding something?” You speak up again when you take note of him sorting through the same chunk of vinyl. He grunts lightly, letting the stack slant back in a heap as he purses his lips.

“Yeah actually, Taehyung said you guys got the album Seventeen Seconds but I don’t see it.

You step back from reorganizing the bin labeled S, trying to remember if you had brought the record out or if it was still sitting in the second box ready to be unpacked. Your brain was already overwhelmed from all of the information you had been given on your first day, trying to unscramble the entire backroom and it’s countless boxes—most of which were unlabeled because Taehyung said it’s not necessary since he knows where everything is. 

Much like Taehyung, you recall seeing a flash of the album cover when you sorted through the new box of records, knowing exactly where it was tucked away since you had been the one to store it. You were under strict orders to not put it out on the floor, because according to Namjoon, if someone else took this album you’d be attending his funeral. 

“Oh, uh gimme a sec.” You shuffle away, leaving him behind as you approach Taehyung, still folding away. “Hey, Tae?”

He hums in question, turning to stare at you with a small smile. “Whats up?”

“That guy is asking for Seventeen Seconds but Namjoon told me he’d be murdered if I gave this out to anyone.”

Taehyung starts laughing instantly, setting the shirt down as he stares at a confused looking Yoongi still standing by the LP’s. “Yeah, he was saving it for him specifically.”

“Got it, okay. Thanks.” You make a beeline back to the tables at the back, passing Yoongi with a polite smile. “Be right back!” you exclaim, wagging your finger at him as you make your way towards the back room, clearly on a mission.

Yoongi just stands there as you enter the employee stock room, not trying to cross any professional lines and follow you since you have no idea who he is. It's only a few feet away and you left the door propped open so when a few minutes pass and he hears rustling, followed by a heavy sounding thud and some curse words, he can’t help but wander over and peak his head in.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face when he sees the way you’re frozen, one foot on the ledge of the shelf and the other on a not so sturdy looking stool, caught in the act of a poorly made decision. Below you lay two brown boxes that carry shirts you’re meant to unpack later, definitely the cause of the loud thud he had heard.

“Yep,” you confirm as you pluck out the record you need, shoving the box back into its safe spot and hopping down haphazardly. “Here you go.”

Grabbing the record carefully, he flips it over to skim the track list and smiles widely when he looks back up at you. That familiar warmth fills his chest as he holds the new item, making him feel the same way he had as a teenager when he bought his first LP. He had been searching for this vinyl for months now. It wasn’t as if it was no longer in production, he just couldn’t seem to find it in stock anywhere he looked and buying it internationally was the last resort he would take since the shipping fees were downright illegal. “Thanks.”

You’re already hunched down on the floor as you open up one of the boxes that had fallen in your haste to scale the shelves, deciding to just unpack in now since you were here. 

“Yeah, no problem. Tae can ring you up at the front.” Sending him off with a smile and a wave, he takes that as his cue to exit, making his way to the front again. 

When he leaves the backroom you flop onto your butt with a huff, your legs sprawling out with the second box in between them. You were hoping your words didn’t come across as rude to him but you couldn’t take the way his sharp eyes stared at you. Had he lingered any longer you would have embarrassed yourself, it was a miracle your footing hadn’t slipped on your way down from the shelves. You can’t imagine your ego being able to recover from a tumble like that. 

Taehyung spots Yoongi leaning against the front counter, setting the final shirt down and going to stand behind it with a smile. “Did you find everything okay?” he asks automatically, the general phrases they had to use coming out without a thought and Yoongi scoffs, sliding the record across the counter and nodding.

“Of course I did, you let Namjoon know that I said your customer service is unmatched.” His finger gently rubs against the first black KAWS figurine, smiling at the remaining four as he remembers how Namjoon had excitedly told him that this was their friend group, representing them all perfectly. 

Taehyung grins with a roll of his eyes, scanning the album and slipping it into the brown paper bag they provided. “Wonderful. Your total is 40,000 won.”

“Wow, your customer service voice is phenomenal.”

Taehyung laughs now, his nose crinkling up at Yoongi's sarcastic tone, watching how Yoongi grins back at him, succeeding in getting him to crack. “Fuck you, man.”

“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi hums with a chuckle as he pulls out his wallet, sorting through his bills and handing them to Taehyung. “Who’s New Order girl?”

Tae raises his brows as he enters the amount into the POS, the drawer popping open against his hips. “Oh, Y/N?” Yoongi only shrugs, you had Sana’s name tag on so how the hell should he know.

Taehyung stuffs the money into the drawer and slams it shut, ripping off the receipt from the machine and slipping it into the bag. “She just started today, can’t remember where she moved from, some place far though.” He shrugs as he hands the bag over to Yoongi.

The older boy ruffles his damp hair up, accepting the bag with his right hand. “Oh, cool. Well thanks, I’ll see you guys later then?” Taehyung just waves him off with a smile, similar to the way you did and he laughs to himself when he realizes Taehyung must be the one in charge of training you.

As he approaches the front door he pulls out his pack of cigarettes once more, sliding one out and slipping it between his lips. He finds himself looking towards the back of the shop again, seeing you resuming your organization, but your head lifts up as you feel him staring at you from his spot at the door. The spark of his lighter flashes across his face when he lights up his smoke, opening his umbrella once more now that he's partially outside. When your eyes meet, he smiles around the stick, giving you a nod before turning and walking back out into the rain.

You watch as his figure disappears down the street, his dark silhouette blending in with the rest of the people roaming the city, and when you can no longer see him through the store window you turn towards Taehyung. He’s stood at the POS, fidgeting with the screen, but when you call his name he glances up at you. “Is he a regular?”

He nods in response, eyes going back to stare at the screen as he begins to print out a sheet to fulfill the online orders the store received. “Yeah, he comes in at least once a week. Buys strictly vinyl. I think Namjoon mentioned he’s a music producer, or maybe it was a DJ, I can’t remember.”

Taehyung evidently doesn’t have the best memory, that much had been made clear in the short span you’ve known him. He had forgotten your name twice during your interview, Namjoon having to subtly repeat it for him, he had also asked you three times where you were from and at first you thought he was joking but when his face remained serious you realized he had really forgotten already.

“Hey, where’d you move from again?” he asks one more, genuinely curious as if you hadn’t told him a handful of times already. 

“I told you, Iceland.” It’s a lie, but when he hums in thought—pretending to suddenly remember—you chuckle at the newfound way to mess with him. 

He’s quick to start questioning you about Iceland, nodding along to the lies you spill while you both go back to your tasks of sorting albums and folding shirts. It makes your first full shift eventful, passing jokes back and forth as the sky grows gloomier. As distracting as your conversations get, you can’t help but glance up through the windows whenever a dark clad figure walks by, the thought of the sharp eyed stranger lingering in your mind. 

[hood-ex]

This is a fic written for @stxleslyds! The prompt was: a fic with Dick, Roy and Lian spending time together in the Outsiders era. Thanks for the donation, Tati 💙.

Important: This fic takes place a week after the events of Outsiders (2003) #19.

“We could use you here,” Roy says. Even with his voice coming directly through the comm, Dick almost doesn’t hear him say, “I need you here.”

A soft wind blows through Blüdhaven, ruffling through Dick’s sweat-matted hair. What a filthy night it is for a Friday. Thunder rumbling in the distance with hot, humid air filling Dick’s lungs. It’s the kind of air that isn’t natural for a place like the ‘Haven. It’s here for whatever reason, and it’s no better now that the sun has been replaced by pink and purple neon lights flashing across the strip. It’s nights like these that Dick can admit to missing his red tunic and green shorts. It was shit to wear them in the winter but an absolute godsend in the summer.

Dick sighs deeply, moving away from the ledge of the building and away from his view of the herds of drunk people whose laughter echoes between the bars and casinos. There’s a tall HVAC unit in the middle of the building that he walks over to and sits against. The fabric of his suit rubs against it, and he squirms a little at the uncomfortable position. He bears it because this is a conversation that requires a little support.

“Dick.”

“I know,” Dick mutters.

He should be under the streets of Brooklyn the same as all the other Outsiders should be. Considering the circumstances, it’s no surprise that some of them have deserted the ship for the time being. Licking their wounds in private so to speak. Dick’s not proud of it. He tacks it onto his mental bulletin board of shame where it sits up there all torn and ugly like the rest of his deplorable moments.

“I’d feel better if you were here to watch Lian when I step out of the room,” Roy says in Japanese. Dick’s brow furrows. Either Lian is in the same room as Roy and he doesn’t want her to know they’re talking about her or there’s an Outsider nearby that he doesn’t want listening in on his personal issues. “She hasn’t started therapy yet and her separation anxiety is still high.”

“High for both of you,” Dick points out. He thinks back to a few days ago when Roy had called him in a panic because he’d left all of his groceries in the middle of the store after his paranoia got the best of him and had him running back to the base to check on Lian.

“Tell me about it,” Roy laughs dryly. “I feel like I’m going fuckin’ nuts, dude.” The strain in his voice sends a full body shiver down Dick’s spine. “All I can think about is whether she’s okay and if the base is protected enough, and if I can really trust everyone here. You and Kory are the only ones I feel okay leaving her with.”

You shouldn’t trust me like that, Dick thinks bitterly. Lilith and Donna trusted me with their lives and look where they are now.

“Everyone else is… I trust them as teammates. I trust them with my life. But I can’t—"

“Trust them with Lian’s,” Dick says, knowing how much this whole situation has fucked with Roy's ability to trust anyone and everyone. Except him and Kory, apparently. Probably Ollie and the rest of Roy's family too.

He thunks his head against the HVAC unit and stares up at the dark sky. Not a single star up there, he thinks, and something like guilt burns in his chest. You took them all with you, didn’t you, Donna? Put them in your pockets and faded away. “She might not be comfortable with me there,” he says after a moment.

It pains him to think that Lian could be scared of him. Scared of him because he looks similar to one of the blue-eyed, dark-haired kidnappers who murdered her babysitter and then branded her like cattle. That type of trauma association doesn’t go away after a week.

“Kory told Lian you might stop by, and you know what Lian asked her?”

Terrible things flash through Dick’s head. Things like words born of fear or disgust. He hugs his arms around his knees and squeezes them tight.

“No, what did she say?”

“She asked, ‘Is Uncle Nightwing gonna bring Blue’s Clues with him?’”

A smile tugs at the corner of Dick’s lips and his eyes start to sting. He can’t believe that’s the first thing she thought of. It only seems like yesterday that he was watching Blue’s Clues with her in Titans Tower. Sometimes he would pause the show and ask Lian questions about each of the clues just to hear what kind of outlandish answers her kid brain could come up with. Other times the detective in him couldn’t help but steer her towards a logical answer. Roy used to always roll his eyes and tell him to stop trying to turn her into a mini Nightwing.

“That doesn’t mean she’ll be okay seeing me in person and you know it,” Dick reminds him.

Roy’s sigh is soft and muffled in his ear. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Dick’s not one to wait around.

“Let’s cross it now.”

“You’re coming over?” Roy asks, and even though he mostly sounds neutral, Dick can hear the disbelief hidden under it all.

If there was an award for the world's most shitty friend, Dick would probably be in the lead to receive it. Here Roy is dealing with the fact that his daughter was abducted and almost trafficked, and what’s Dick been doing for the last few days instead of sticking by his side? Working himself to the bone in Blüdhaven, that’s what. Hiding away from the fact that he almost lost another important person to him. Trying to avoid the crushing weight of failure that clings to him like a second skin.

Pathetic. Some safety net he is.

“Yeah, give me an hour,” Dick says.

The commute from Blüdhaven to Brooklyn isn’t bad at this time of night. Most of the traffic is packed downtown where all the bars are lined up. Dick takes the highway to avoid the worst of it.

The roar of the city dies off once he goes underground. Down here the HQ looms over him in all its steel glory. Dick’s always thought of it like one giant elevator. It’s all hard angles and sleek, silver walls. Hardly a place one would describe as homey, but it was home to a few people nevertheless.

Dick goes inside after getting his eye and hand scanned by the computer. He heads down the hallway, keeping his footsteps light and quiet out of habit. So far there’s no sign of Jade, Indigo, or Rex in any of the rooms he passes. They’re the most likely to be here around this time. From what Kory told him the other day, Grace has been spending most of her time clubbing, and Anissa has been staying with her dad. He hates to admit it but it’s almost a relief that he doesn’t have to worry about running into either of them.

He ends up finding Roy and Lian in the rec room. Lian is sitting on the leather couch in the middle of the room. She must have had a shower not too long ago because her hair is a little damp and she’s wearing a pair of purple pajamas with unicorns on them. A Cinderella blanket is strewn across her lap and a stuffed rabbit sits discarded on the floor by her feet.

Roy looks small squatting in front of her. His pants are the only sign of his Arsenal gear, and it makes Dick feel slightly out of place since he’s still decked out in full mask and suit. It’s the first time Dick’s seen Roy in person since they brought down Tanner’s operations a week ago. He looks how Dick would expect any parent to look after being targeted by a major sex trafficker: stressed and exhausted.

Those tired eyes of his shift to the doorway where Dick stands, and Dick can see the way Roy looks him over from head to toe, assessing Dick’s condition. He can look as hard as he wants, but he won’t find anything. Dick keeps his face blank and unreadable.

“It still hurts,” Lian whimpers, and both Dick and Roy's attention immediately snaps back to her.

She wraps her arms around her stomach and bends over her lap like she’s going to throw up all over the floor. Roy doesn’t move to try and avoid any possible bouts of vomit. Nothing happens as the seconds tick by. No retching or anything. There’s only the sound of Roy’s hand rubbing up and down Lian’s arm.

“Me and your Uncle Nightwing are gonna get you feeling better soon,” Roy assures her in a gentle voice. “And guess what?”

Lian makes a questioning sound in the back of her throat.

The look Roy shoots Dick is somewhere between caution and amusement. “He’s been playing quiet mouse behind you this whole time.”

Dick braces himself as Lian shoots back up like a rocket. “He’s behind me?” she asks, twisting around in her seat. Dick’s heart starts jackrabbiting because what if she’s scared of him? What if he accidentally triggers her PTSD? What if— “Uncle Nightwing!” Lian shrieks.

Relief shudders through him because she sounds happy to see him. Not scared or angry or disgusted like he feared. She’s looking at him like he just told her he brought her a bag of candy, and that revelation is enough to make him take a breath and finally enter the room.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dick says, hurrying over to the couch so that she doesn’t have to get up. “I missed you.”

Lian reaches for his hand and holds on to it. It’s not like the hug Dick usually gets from her and maybe that’s because she doesn’t want anyone touching her back after the incident. Dick will take anything he can get. His much larger hand closes over her own and he swings them back and forth lightly.

“Me too,” Lian says. She squeezes his hand three times. “Why do you still have your gloves on?”

“My hands are cold,” Dick lies. “Why were you bent over like an accordion just a minute ago?”

“Her tummy’s been hurting,” Roy says with a frown.

“It’s because tigers used to try and eat people,” Lian tells him matter-of-factly. Roy looks like he’s about to correct her but she quickly hurries on. “My brain says there’s danger and it makes my tummy stop working.”

A lightbulb goes off in Dick’s head as he realizes that she’s describing anxiety. A simplified explanation of how the digestive system shuts down and sends blood to other parts of the body when there’s danger.

“My tummy does that too,” Dick says after a pause. “I get a lot of anxiety sometimes. Do you want me to show you how I try to make it go away?”

Lian scrunches her nose. “Do we have to take medicine?”

“Nope. All we need to do is sit up straight and breathe. Breathing really deep helps our brains calm down and makes our tummies feel more relaxed,” Dick explains. He sinks down on the plush couch and demonstrates how she should be sitting. “Now move back until you’re sitting like me.”

Lian does as she’s told and scoots back until she’s resting against the back of the couch. Dick only remembers how short she is when he notices how her feet stick out straight in front of her instead of dangling over the edge of the couch.

“Now tell your daddy to get in position.”

“Daddy,” Lian slaps the free cushion beside her, “sit next to me.”

“Magic word?” Roy prompts.

“Please,” Lian pouts.

“That’s better.” Roy’s knees pop when he shifts out of his crouched position. The whole couch rocks when he falls back against it. “What’s the strat here, Wing? We need to close our eyes or what?”

Dick wants to ask him why he’s acting like he’s never done this before but the playful words stick in his mouth like glue.

“We’ll close our eyes in a second. Lian, I want you to watch how your daddy and I take really deep breaths, okay? Then we’re all going to do it together.”

“I can take really big breaths!” Lian insists. She scrambles out of her pose and gets on her knees. Her little fingers wrap around Dick’s bicep as she leans in close to him. “I can take one million breaths as big as an elephant!”

The tired and apathetic part of him tells him to ignore her kid logic and to get back on track. The uncle part of him is another story. It wants him to be fun and helpful. To distract Lian from the worries and fears she has.

In the end, he does what he always does best: puts on a performance.

“Oh yeah?” Dick challenges with a grin that hopefully doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “I can take five billion breaths as big as a planet.”

“Elephants are bigger than planets,” she says.

“I think maybe the elephants are only bigger in your dreams.”

“Yeah, they are,” Lian agrees because she’s a typical kid who will support anything that proves she’s right in some capacity.

Roy looks amused when he puts his hands on Lian’s shoulders and steers her to sit back on her bottom. “Alright little missy, no more talking. We’re gonna do what Uncle Nightwing says now, okay?”

“Okay,” Lian agrees, looking over at Dick expectantly.

Coaching Lian through the exercise is easy. The most important part is making sure she’s taking breaths that are deep enough to make her stomach expand like a balloon. Dick has her place her hands on top of her stomach so he can see them rise when she inhales.

Roy follows along and Dick can tell that he’s taking advantage of the exercises for his own benefit. His face looks peaceful and relaxed as he follows along with Dick’s instructions to suck in a breath on the count of one and exhale up until the count of ten.

“Keep focusing on counting,” Dick tells them while they exhale. “We don’t want any other thoughts in our heads. No bad thoughts or funny thoughts. Only think about counting to ten.”

They run through a few more cycles. Dick’s pleased when he hears both Lian and Roy’s stomachs grumbling as they exhale. It’s a good sign that the deep breaths are massaging their organs and decreasing any kind of stomach pain.

“That’s it,” Dick says. “We’re all done.” He opens his eyes and sees Lian slumped against the back of the couch. Her hands are still resting on her stomach, but she looks languid instead of tense like she was when he first saw her.

“I’m tired now,” Roy says. His movements are slow as molasses when he slides forward to the edge of the couch and bends over to rest his arms on his thighs. He looks at Lian. “How about you, princess? You feeling any better?”

“Mhmm. My tummy doesn’t feel really uh…”

“Tight?” Dick offers.

“Yeah, it’s not so tight anymore.”

Roy pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good. Mine feels a little better too.”

“Can we do Uncle Nightwing’s breathing thing again tomorrow?” she asks through a yawn.

“Sure thing,” Roy nods. His attention shifts to Dick. “Are you gonna still be here to lead us through it?”

This isn’t some kind of test but it feels like one. It feels like if he says no then he’s only proving that he’s a bad friend. That he can’t be relied on. He doesn’t want to give Roy that impression because it’s not true. Roy can rely on him the same way Dick relies on Roy. He hopes showing up here tonight is proof of that.

“That’s the plan,” he says, voice soft.

Roy leans over the couch and squeezes Dick’s knee gently. “You sure?” he asks, and his eyes roam over Dick’s face like he’s trying to find evidence that Dick is lying.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He pats Roy’s hand reassuringly in the same way Alfred's done for him and Bruce a hundred times. It's only now that he realizes it's a habit he's picked up.

Lian suddenly leans into Dick’s side and presses her weight against his arm. She pats both his and Roy’s hands.

“I’m sure too,” she says, and this time Dick can’t help but smile.