#i want HAWKS and FALCONS DAMN IT

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

“mojang should add this” “mojang should add that” mojang should add more BIRDS

#10piecetalks #minecraft #mojang #i want HAWKS and FALCONS DAMN IT #I want birds of prey in minecraft #and maybe some cooler birds of paradise

[mlmxreader]

Big Boy | König x m!reader

Anonymous asked: Ooohhh König with a short boyfriend? Someone jokingly asks about the height difference and his bf says “I have to climb him like a damn tree every time I want a kiss, it’s annoying.” And König’s like “you can ask me to bend down, you know.” “Nah, you’re my personal jungle gym.”

summary: König loves his pilot boyfriend, even if he is a bit of a pain.

tws: swearing, smoking

König was a lot taller than you, and although you did love him ever so dearly, you had to admit: it could be a pain in the backside and a half to be physically affectionate sometimes. But you made it work, and although some of your fellow pilots in the RAF did tease you for it, it was all in good nature and was not anything other than banter.

Often, when you were off of work for a while König would come home with only one thing in mind: cuddling you; he loved how you seemed to fit so well in his embrace, your head on his chest as he laid a large hand between your shoulders and an arm around your waist while some old song by Sodom or Slayer played quietly, too tired and worn out to talk, too overwhelmed with seeing you at last to even consider opening his mouth, he always kissed you too much for that.

But his favourite thing by far was when he would come to the air field; he loved to watch you land your plane - the Red Kite - while Perveen, Bashar, Pahwa and Cohen landed behind - their planes being the Golden Eagle, Peregrine Falcon, Red Tailed Hawk and Bearded Vulture respectively. What made König love it so much though was not the planes themselves or how they were painted to look like the birds they were named after, but it was how you reacted to seeing him stood on the tarmac.

Without fail, he would bring a thermos of your favourite coffee and would have two cigarettes ready to be smoked; when you first became his boyfriend, you said once that you loved a coffee and a smoke when you landed, and König never forgot.

He was dressed down as he stood on the tarmac, a camo print hoodie in dark green and trousers of the same, but sporting a bright orange beanie hat. If he remembered correctly, you had gotten that hat for him for his birthday as a present a few months after you first started dating, the thought of which made him smile as he felt the rain gently tap, a warning that it was about to start pouring.

Although it was going to be awful, the weather was actually on König's side, as it had meant an early return for the pilots who had been out on a training exercise, it meant his boyfriend would return early.

He watched the Red Kite eagerly, and when it came to a full stop and you climbed out, he grinned.

"Ah, fuck! Shit! Shit! Fucking shit! Why'd it have to fucking rain right as I fucking-" your little rant of complaints came to a halt when you saw König.

A grin spread across your features, and you quickly made your way towards him, running until you crashed right into his body, pressing your face against him as you tightly held onto him. "Hi, Maus."

König eagerly returned the embrace as he smiled. "Hallo, mein geliebter... bist du gut?"

You nodded. "Now I got you, yeah... ich bin sehr gut... und du?"

"Ich bin super," he admitted, unable to stop grinning as he held you tightly. "Wie war dein Flug?"

You shrugged. "Okay... fuck, I missed you."

He gently pulled back, and when you jumped into his arms to kiss him, he couldn't help but to laugh softly; kissing you back eagerly before he gently set you down again, resting his forearm on your head.

"Hey, (y/n)!" Parveen called, grinning from ear to ear. "How'd you kiss him?"

You shrugged, waiting for him to get closer before you dared to answer, "how'd you think? I have to climb him like a damn tree every time I want a kiss, it's annoying as fuck, mate."

König looked down at you for a moment, his brows furrowing. "You can ask me to bend down, you know, Bärchen."

Gently, you tapped his stomach as you shook your head. "Nah, you're my personal jungle gym... besides, it's like a positive reinforcement thing."

He cocked his brow, trying not to smile as he let his hand slip to your shoulders, resting between them as he slowly moved his thumb up and down, letting you lean into him. "You could still ask me to Kuss you."

"I'd rather not," you shook your head, licking your lips as you smiled. "It's more fun this way."

"Why don't you just punch him in the stomach?" Perveen jokingly asked. "That'll make him bend down."

König glared at the Squadron Leader. "Don't encourage him, bitte."

You were about to open your mouth, let off some smart ass comment, when König shoved his hand into his pocket, and gave you a cigarette and a lighter; he bent down, picked up the thermos, and held it out for you, doing his best not to smile when you eagerly lit up your cigarette and held it between your lips as you opened the thermos and let the stench of coffee hit you.

Sure, you could be a pain, you could be a nightmare, but König adored you, and he honestly couldn't wait until he had you back home; he couldn't wait to feel you in his embrace and to hold you so tightly, bouncing on his heels slightly as he waited for you to smoke your cigarette and drink your coffee. He knew you loved and needed it.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #könig call of duty #könig modern warfare #könig imagine #könig x reader #könig x you #könig mw2 #König x y/n #könig fanfiction #könig fluff #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #konig x reader #konig x you #konig imagine #konig x y/n #konig call of duty #konig cod #call of duty fic #call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #könig cod

[ladykissingfish]

Madara: Hashi, why doesn’t your granddaughter like me?

Hashirama: What do you mean? Is Tsuna being rude to you when I’m not around?

Madara: No, it’s just … she never talks to me unless I talk first. She never looks me in the eye. Do you think maybe we got together too fast, after Mito died? That maybe she resents me or thinks I’m trying to take her grandmother’s place?

Hashirama: *puts his arms around Madara* Stop talking nonsense, old man. Tsuna knows about our past, and how I’ve always felt about you. 

Hashirama: But you’ve got to remember, she really knows nothing about you. And she’s a teenage girl; her interests aren’t realy going to lie in being best friends with her old grandpa’s husband, you know?

Madara, sighing: I suppose you’re right …

Hashirama: I am right. Just give it some time; she’ll come around eventually.

*several weeks later*

Tsunade, going into the Hokage office: Gramps? Are you ready to — oh. 

Madara: He got called away to settle a dispute between two shop owners. But he should be back in just a little bit, if you want to wait?

Tsunade: *nods and sits in a chair, looking out the window*

Tsunade, muttering to herself: Damn … there goes that girl again chasing after Dan. I ought to go after her and punch her lights out.

Madara, quietly: That wouldn’t do you a bit of good, child.

Tsunade: *turns her head sharply to look at him* What?

Madara: Punching somebody is a very poor effort to extract revenge for a wrong. The bruise will heal and as soon as it does, they go right back to the same behavior. Have you warned her about staying away from this “Dan”?

Tsunade: Yes, but she just laughs at me and says that if I’m not enough to hold his attention, then she should be free to take him if she wants. 

Madara: Ah. Still, punching her or any sort of physical violence won’t be effective.

Tsunade: Then what am I supposed to do?!

Madara: Halloween is around the corner. Do you happen to know if she has any fears?

Tsunade: Well, once at academy a little blackbird flew into the window. She panicked and was screaming and crying until some kids caught it and let it back out. So, I suppose birds.

Madara: If she reacts so dramatically over a little blackbird, how do you think she’d react to several hundred hawks and falcons?

Tsunade: She’d probably be traumatized for life. But who in the world would have that many large birds??

Madara: *grins*

*several days later, Halloween afternoon*

Tsunade, running in to Hashirama’s office: It worked! I told the hawks and falcons to circle her and surround her, and they did! I threatened that if she didn’t leave Dan alone, she would suffer the same punishment every day! And she agreed to back off!

Tsunade: Thanks, Uncle Madara! *hugs him and leaves*

Hashirama: Ah? Did — did you show Tsuna how to command your birds — ?

Madara: Mm. Turns out we share two big interests; animals, and revenge.

Hashirama:

#hashimada #old age au #hashirama x madara #tsunade x dan #hashirama senju #madara uchiha #tsunade senju #madara the falconer #Halloween #halloween 2023 #bonding 😌

[skull-hoarder]

My talent with bones is going too far too fast.

A museum already want me in Playa del Carmen to clean and assemble a manatee, in Hidalgo to work on a jaguar and a tiger and a falconer from the region wants a falcon and a horned owl

That and the four snakes of more than three meters that my boss want me to work in the workshop, a wild turkey, a coyote, a peccary and a deer

All this plus the job I already have, a hawk, lots of chameleons, crocodiles, rattlesnakes, baby animals, etc.

Damn I need vacations 😵‍💫

Btw, if anyone has advice on how to organize the work I would appreciate it because I am panicking asf aaaaaaa

#vulture culture #dead things #dead animal #bone processing #bone cleaning #personal post?

[simply-yelly2]

Been so long since I last did a Kiesha'ra character that I forgot the feathers on her nape. Damn.

Tagging my old friends @opal-tea and @justawfulxmenart because we have another unfortunate sibling who died young because of the war.

This is Mara Shardae, the older sister of Danica who died before Hawksong at the tender age of fifteen. I will admit that I have thought about Mara only a few times compared to Sisal, but I saw a comment that Justawfulxmenart had made on my picture of Sisal and it mentioned Mara...and got me thinking and suddenly I wanted to try drawing her.

And here we go. For some reason, I saw Mara having really curly hair. It would come from their father as I see Nacola's hair being long and straight. Danica might have some waviness to her hair, but not as much volume as Mara has going on. Her skin tone is from the crayon colors of the world. I used the extra deep golden for Mara. Danica would have a deep golden skin tone, and Xavier would have medium deep golden. Xavier also has some thick curls, but his hair is short too.

And then we have the feathers...The "hawks" of Kiesha'ra are actually golden eagles.

So about Mara.

I like to think that the Shardae siblings were close, especially after the death of their father and aunts. There was some jealousy. Mara often got Nacola's attention because she was the heir. But Danica was more proper? I see Mara as being kind of a free spirit and often would convince her siblings to skip lessons in order to go for a walk, maybe have a picnic, and pretend the war did not bring death every single day.

One big thing is that Mara hated having to rely on the falcons for help. Yes, the poison is one of the reasons that the Avians can survive this long (which is telling IMO), but Mara doesn't trust the falcons, and had she become queen, then she would have tried to slowly wean the Avians off of their reliance. This probably would have come back to bite her in the butt.

But it's telling in her fashion. If you all remember my outfit for Sive (which I might have borrowed for Psyche...oops), it is based on the style that the falcons wear. Just less...exposed.

Mara's outfit is more what most Avians where. A high front and low back for the wings. Although I kind of wonder because most Avians don't wear the wings of their demi form.

But yeah. Here's Mara.

Enjoy.

#kiesha'ra

[cryptidclaw]

Please listen to me rant about kits real quick-

Ok so we all know how some cats have 3 litters and even rarely 4. But why don’t they have more?

Hear me out-

There is VERY few queens who have a lot of kits, and even then not a lot make it to warriorhood or even take on a mate. Snowbird and Ferncloud are two prime examples of that. As only I think 3 out of 7 of Ferncloud’s kits have themselves their own kits, and Snowbird I think only has 2, not to mention Snowbird has the most kits in the series. And she was born in the last book of TPB. So why don’t queens have more?

We see Squirrelflight wishing she had kits in her own book. We see Sandstorm admitting she wanted more kits but didn’t want to pressure Firestar with another litter. And so on. Many cats in real life that can have kits(cause their not fixed) have a LOT of litters and kits. So it doesn’t make sense to me that so many loving couples only have 1 litter. I will do some examples-

BrambleSquirrel(when they still had respect and love for eachother)

FireSand

GrayMillie

RowanTawny

Goldenflower in general(loved having kits jo matter the father but she just didn’t have any after Bramble and Tawny which was super confusing. Like I feel like she never loved Patchpelt but she still had kits with him just to have kits, then was with Tigerclaw for a bit after Swiftpaw became an apprentice)

Graypool (like Goldenflower)

BlackMisty- I don’t approve of this ship because Blackclaw betrayed her but still. Misty loved all her kits and I feel like she would have wanted more but she didn’t.

Now I’m done with the examples lol let’s move on.

So saying this, I feel like there should be 1. More litters. And 2. More kits in the litters.

Idc of over-population. Like I swear to GOD if that’s the reason that the Erin’s don’t do like 10 kits in a god damn litter, get out of here.

ITS CALLED KILLING OFF KITS.

We see SO MANY kits die between series and off screen. Only recently have kits been not dying to just being a stillborn, being sickly, or even just dying to getting sick, or even a badger or fox getting them. EVEN A OWL could see a kit wondering alone in a dark camp to get maybe some water and get taken. THERE IS SO MANY POSSIBILITIES that even though they may have a LOT of kits, they will die. And not all of them will have kits.

Many will die as apprentice in a battle. Or get sick like Sweetpaw(we don’t have enough deaths in the books anymore btw and that’s what I hate.

Or even just die from battle wounds getting untreated because they hide them. We see apprentices and young warriors being stubborn about being treated cause their very prideful around that age and very dumb, but the truth is they could use over night just by 1 affection. And it DOESN’T happen.

We see this all in young warriors too. Yes some may be healthier then all their clan mates at this age. But they can still die. Not to mention border fights, falling branches, fires, floods, Mudslides, foxes, bears, deers(people deers will kill cats. My cat died after a deer got scared and trampled her. Her name was Saturn and she was a very young cat and wasn’t much a threat but the deer still thought of her of it. Just putting that out there)

Not to mention, Badgers, owls, eagles, hawks, falcons, drowning and so much more!

Apprentices are PRONE to trouble as we see so much in every series. It’s just that’s how the young learn. They be curious and are never cautious. Which should get a lot killed. But it doesn’t. And it’s stupid-

I’m so sorry I got off track.

But yes. I so believe Sandstorm could have had 12 kits.

That Leafpool could have had 5+

That EVERY queen unless their not that fertile can have as many kits as they want. Damn, all the kits in a huge litter could die from a huge outbreak of Greencough! We see it right before we meet Firepaw, as right before there was a huge outbreak and all those cats we saw in BlueStar’s Prophecy are 85% dead because of it.

Featherkit and Cricketkit? Got killed in that outbreak.

So did Stormtail, all the elders they weren’t dead before, Windflight, Stonepelt, AdderFang, Thrushpelt, Robinwing, Fuzzypelt, Featherwhisker, Swiftbreeze, Leopardfoot, Rosetail and Poppydawn.

That’s a lot. Now some may have not died from that. But they died between BlueStar’s Prophecy and when Firepaw joined. Which actually wasn’t much of time skip. Maybe 3 years? And for all those cats, that’s a lot! So yes. Big outbreak of Greencough that seems like a tick to the modern books now, should so happen.

Kill off a lot of characters

DESTROYE 65% of all cats from the clans!

God damn I would be so HAPPY.

Shit idk why the Erin’s aren’t doing that.

Anyways. I’m getting to worked up writing this. If I don’t stop I might tell you everything that should happen that doesn’t lol.

Thanks for letting me ramble-

honestly? I'm kinda okay with the cats not having too many litters. This is fantasy so I don't really mind that in this society the litters are small and cats don't have too many.

I feel like having to kill off tons of kittens and apprentices would just be a lot of work and would also be slightly horrifying lmao. We have to remember that despite how dark a lot of things are in these books, they are for children, so I would understand why they wouldn't want to commit mass baby murder lol (i know they have killed lots of children, but not on the level that they would have to if these cats had a normal amount of babies).

I also I like that there aren't too many litters because then we are able to actually get attached to, learn the personalities of, and care about all the kits born in the clans. It makes the deaths of the few that do die more impactful, and it makes us care about whether or not the others survive! Plus when kits die, their deaths can deeply effect their parents and family, and tons of kits dying would probably make that less impactful!

If anything, I would probably want to split up canon litters to be smaller and born at different times, so that cats who seem like they would want more kits, could have another litter! like Tawny would have had two kits in one litter and one in another!

anywayyys thats just my opinion! I can definitely see your pov as well!

#cryptid answers #warrior cats

[hummerhouse]

Domesticated animals

Let me rant for a moment here. As a country dweller, I experience many things that city folks do not. Most of those things are positive - no traffic, fresh air, space to move around, beautiful silence, etc.

However, there are of course the negatives such as having to drive an hour to get to the grocery store.  You learn to adapt.

One of those negatives is perpetrated by so called “pet owners”.  They are the reason for this rant.  If you are a responsible pet owner, you can shake your head in disgust along with me, because I’m gonna explain what has been upsetting me.

Dear irresponsible pet owner: Stop dropping your unwanted pets off in the country.  Stop driving 30, 40, 50 miles outside of the city and shoving your poor pets out of the car.  You are not “setting them free”, you are dooming them to a short life filled with extreme pain and hardship.

The dogs who are not immediately run over by a car slowly starve to death because they have no idea how to hunt.  Maybe they will be lucky enough to be accepted into a pack of wild dogs, but let me tell you - those packs don’t last long either. They inevitably go after cattle, sheep, horses, goats, pigs and are promptly shot by ranchers.

Dogs who get dumped off become food for wolves and cougars out where I live. They get sick, they get injured and they curl up in a pile of leaves to die, shivering and alone.  Keep that mental picture in your head the next time you think you’re doing something humane.

Cats suffer a lot of the same fates. If they are lucky (and young) a family of wild cats might take them in and show them how to stay warm in the winter.  Mostly they just get run over - I see dead cats on the road every damn day.

Feral cats attack them.  Feral cats will kill and eat your pet.  If the pet cat escapes, they are often badly injured - they lose an eye or suffer gashes that get infected.  Pet cats are eaten by wolves and cougars too, but they are also prey to falcons and hawks. I have seen a hawk carry off a kitten. I have seen the bits of fur and skin left behind after a wolf attack.

If they manage to adapt, they go after song birds in order to eat and even if they’re not hungry, they’ll kill birds just for sport.  Many of the abandoned pets aren’t fixed (spayed or neutered), so they start dropping kittens.  Those kittens become feral and the population grows.  It’s a vicious cycle.

Right now I am taking care of over a dozen such cats.  My neighbors and I call them “community cats” because we’ve taken it upon ourselves to feed them, give them fresh water and some kind of shelter.  We set out traps to catch them and spend our own money to have them spayed/neutered, and to get them at least a rabies vaccine.

We do this because we are much more kind-hearted than the people who dumped these animals. We understand what becomes of a domesticated pet who is no longer wanted. It is extremely painful to us to see an animal suffer.

For the love of all that is good - if you don’t want your pet any longer, make an effort to find them another home.  Or don’t get a pet in the first place if you aren’t sure you can make that lifetime commitment. Animals are not toys!

#psa #take care of your pets #stop dumping cats #stop dumping dogs

[madhattersez]

Model Kit Build: "The King of Fighters XIV Nakoruru" by Degenerator Industry

This one was interesting. To start with, I had no idea these models were even a thing!

I went "Christmas money" shopping at HobbyTown USA for some new kits to put together. I had already picked up the Devastator model from my previous post, but this Nakoruru one caught my eye immediately (even though it was stacked up high and pretty much out of sight).

I am an absolute Neo Geo freak and I love pretty much anything SNK-related, so I started flipping out. I think I took a look at the front of the box, then the side, then I just hugged it for several seconds. What a crazy, cool kit to stumble upon!

Interesting to see nature's protector here with her trusty hawk suddenly turned robotic. Nakoruru is also sporting some sort of mecha skirt, but... Okay. I was down no matter what.

I asked the people behind the counter if there were any more in this series, and they had no idea - Said a guy just came in and ordered it through them because he was gonna put it together and display it inside one of his anime rides at a car show, but then he never picked it up. My score, I guess!

By the way, there -is- a series, including Mai Shiranui, a transforming Metal Slug tank, and more.

I got home and opened the box... My initial reaction?

Holy hell, why the fuck are there so many sprues?! This looks like what you get in an MGEX Gundam kit, haha. Wow.

So, how does Degenerator Industry stack up against Bandai when it comes to instructions and quality?

Not great, I'm afraid.

While the instructions were far better than my experience with the Flame Toys kit, there were a couple flaws.

First, as seen above, there were a lot of the "your choice" icons, much like you see in Bandai kits.

This usually means that there are two or more styles for the part you're working on. However, unlike Bandai kits, there were no pictures of the differences between the two versions anywhere to be found. How am I supposed to pick if I don't know the changes between them and have no image to guide me? I didn't design the damned thing...

This led to me taking multiple pieces apart and switching to a different part when I later realized the actual functions of each option many steps later.

Just about the only "your choice" part that made sense was when I got to the "breast unit" step:

I would be terrified, too, honestly.

Well, after building both units, I had to choose between "smaller, rocky gray boobs that don't match the outfit" or "bigger, rounder boobs that match the rest of the figure.

After trying both out and consulting a Wikia to see that Nakoruru was now at least 20, I went ahead with the better matching, larger dodonhonkeros.

Another hidden problem I found in the directions and even the initial photos on the outside - I figured out just why there were so many damned sprues in this kit: There were nearly two complete sets of everything in the box. Why, you may ask?

Well, there are no pictures of this on the box or in the instructions in a completed state, but you can basically build a "more accurate to the games" version of Nakoruru, or choose to craft a "wacky cyber armor version" because reasons. Surprise!

When I got the model, I had no idea this was even an option.

There are separate directions for making this version of her, which makes sense, but there are two versions of Mamahaha (that's the falcon) - an alternate white and red motif and a basic Samurai Shodown brown motif - but only one set of instructions.

You see, they use the same sprue letters and instructions for both colors... That wasn't obvious until I'd already built the white and red version, but that's okay - I wanted to match it to her anyway.

So, you know how I said there's almost two copies of everything in the box? Well, the only thing preventing you from building both versions of each model is that there is only one torso for Nakoruru and one head for Mamahaha. If they would have included pieces for a second set of those, then there wouldn't be so many wasted parts when you're done.

I mean, if you don't plan on changing out the parts often, which... I imagine not many people would.

But, whatever, check out the finished product:

She's got an attitude because of the troubles I'm about to mention.

These both came out looking super cool, even though (much like the Devastator kit I built previously) it took a lot of physical force to fit some of the parts.

I even had to soak the head in boiling water for a bit to get the neck joint to pop in! Pretty annoying.

Aside from all that, the sprues had thick sections connecting to the parts instead of thin or precise ones, so I had jaggies on literally every single piece I snipped. It took a long-ass time to fix those as I went along.

I guess no one can beat Bandai at their own game, huh?

Ah, well. They are both done now! Nakoruru and Mamahaha look really rad.

One more mention of waste - With double the parts and such, check out how much bigger the box was than the model, lawl:

For more of my model kit builds on Tumblr, click here:

#nakoruru #mamahaha #model kit #model build #model building #nakoruru model #kof xiv #king of fighters #samurai shodown #robot bird #dodonhonkeros #hattersmodelbuilds #gunpla #yes i know it's not actually gunpla

[circumference-pie]

Yuletide 2022 letter

Girl Genius, Gunnerkrigg Court, The Peregrine, Elana Series

Thank you, anonymous Yuletide writer!

AO3 name: circumference

General likes: broken characters, pining, fluff, character introspection, worldbuilding, identity shenanigans, canon or canon divergence universe, in-world artifacts (e.g. a historical document, a news article, the script of a TV advertisement, an in-universe movie review, etc)

General DNWs: coffeeshop/high school/roommate AU, crossovers, pregnancy, porn without plot, non-canon dubcon

I am open to treats!

Girl Genius

Characters requested: Higgs, Gil, Zoing

Fandom-specific likes: zaniness and whimsy

Fandom-specific DNWs: Agatha/Gil or Agatha/Tarvek without the third.

Prompts/ideas:

Brain empty, all I want are Higgs & Gil & Zoing shenanigans. Castle Wulfenbach era, current era, post-canon, anything!

Note: I'm up-to-date on the comic, but it's all kind of a blur, so please don't worry about being a stickler for canon.

Gunnerkrigg Court

Characters requested: Any (Tony, Annie, Kat, Robot)

Fandom-specific likes: Kat being a geek, Gilletie Wood mythology, Tony and Annie's difficult relationship, robot society, Tony/Surma

Fandom-specific DNWs: no Tony-bashing. You can find my (largely starry-eyed) opinion on Tony here.

Prompts/ideas:

Robot society! Tell me more about it. Was there a system of low-key worship before Robot came in, guns blazing, with his new religion? What do robots do in their free time? Do they share urban legends about spooky human behavior? Has Robot met the robot king? Why is boxbot the worst?

Annie meeting a mythological being she hasn't met in canon yet.

Tony and Surma's days in the hospital.

Perhaps OOC and perhaps belated, but I want Tony to hug his daughter and Annie to have some catharsis there.

Kat doing something awesome.

The Peregrine

Characters requested: Any (Narrator, Tiercel, Falcon)

Fandom-specific likes: This is a nonfiction book, so feel free to play fast and loose with my general likes. Like everyone else, I am in awe of this book's description and prose, but for Yuletide I am wondering more about the inner lives of the narrator and peregrines.

Fandom-specific DNWs: please no beastiality

Prompts/ideas:

A story from the point of view of the peregrines, about the weird two-legged creature who follows them.

I avoid humans, but hiding is difficult now the snow has come...I use what cover I can. It is like living in a foreign city during an insurrection. There is an endless banging of guns and tramping of feet in the snow. One has an unpleasantly hunted feeling. Or is it so unpleasant? I am as solitary now as the hawk I pursue.

The narrator talks several times about ways in which he has become like a peregrine himself, and seems to long for the freedom of the wild. What if his wish was granted? What if through some fantastical transformation, he actually became a bird? Inspired by Robert Macfarlane's article on this book.

One of Baker's journal entries, told through another medium. A hunter telling the story about this humanoid figure flitting through the land, maybe, or a sheriff's daily reports.

Elana Series

Characters requested: Elana

Fandom-specific likes: worldbuilding, backstory

Prompts/ideas:

I’ve always been dissatisfied with the way Kari needs to stay ignorant and on her planet. What if she pursued this case to the ends of the earth? What if she found traces of the universe beyond? What if she was also able to take to the stars?

Elana, in her waning years, takes a self-indulgent visit to Andreica to observe what became of it.

I want to know Evrek’s take on the events of Enchantress.

What does the Federation file on our planet look like?

...damn I should have nominated worldbuilding for this one

#yuletide #yuletide letter

[fleet-admiral-hiba]

What kind of pet would Katakuri, Smoothie and Cracker would like, if they wanted one?

Mmhhh. I see them as animal lover but Cracker and Smoothie might be a little complicated to crack out

SWEET GENERALS WITH THEIR ANIMALS

CRACKER

I guess if he had to choose an animal, it will be something not of high mantenace and something that he can actually take with him

I have this weird idea that he might have birds to keep with him, and I mean majestic birds like falcons and hawks and eagles. I don't know I see him as one that will definitely train his pet to be useful

They are animals that can and definitely will be taken with him, and they are birds, so he could use them to track people without getting noticed. Birds also can carry messages and are spot on badass

Ego boost over the sky for this man. Man's grin will not only be plastered on his face 24/7 but he will brag, yeah you damn right he will

He let's out weird guy vibes and I'm not surprised if he had one just because

KATAKURI

May very well be a cat lover as well as a dog lover. He is neutral about it. But if he were to have one, he may have it when he has a s/o, cause man doesn't have time to have a pet

If his s/o managed to get him around the idea of having a pet, he will let them choose. Dog or cat, they still need time so I guess it's okay to have both

If he had a dog, he will definitely train it to be a guard dog, and it would be a big breed, he needs to have it big cause man is fucking huge. Then he will take the dog, with him sometimes, and just spend some time when he is in the archipelago

If he had a cat, then he would most likely train it the same, but he may take it and/or let it roam around the house /office. Chances are the cat will be left at home to do what it pleases and keep company to his s/o

Either way he's gonna love the unconditional love he receives from them, it's a good way to relax after a hard day

SMOOTHIE

Lady's classy and powerful, so the pet needs to be just like her

I see her with elegant breeds of both cats and dogs, but mainly cats. It's easier to have them in her office and generally with her. Indipendent yet affectionate and loyal, just like her

Anyway, you will see her chilling in the poignegliff room with a cat laid on her legs, just sitting there. From time to time she may stroke the fur, or give it a scratch.

Still, the image that comes off is one of regal beauty. But don't think that the cat is innocuous. Little fur ball is a beast of an animal. Loyal and protective of their owner

It's trained to be like a Charlotte, so it is by default an additional member of the family. I wouldn't mess with it if I were you

But like Katakuri, she may think about keeping an animal when she's either older or if she has a s/o, she's a busy lady so I don't think her first thought would be about having a pet

But she may be swayed to have one. You just have to be the right person to ask her to do it.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece masterlist #one piece scenario #one piece x y/n #charlotte family #charlotte katakuri #charlotte smoothie #charlotte cracker

[chim-aera]

rating cryptids that I've encountered before because I'm bored and no can stop me

1. hellhound

2/10 gave me nightmares for a year

basically the first cryptid I ever saw, I was only 13. ran outside the window as I was inside. weird joints, skeletal, backwards legs, way to big to be a dog, solid black, red eyes. may have been a "not wolf" like the not deer. I've seen too many wolves and coyotes where i

I live it wasn't one. saw it twice, and pertaining to lore if you see it thrive you're done for. haunted me forever in my dreams, not my favorite.

2. weird thunderbird thing

5/10 never bothered anyone. might have been a nice guy who knows.

saw it on the same day as the not-wolf, flew over the house. large wingspan bigger than a buzzard, solid black. very blurry???? idk never saw the face. wasn't a hawk, eagle, owl, falcon, or kite.

3. white uso (unidentified swimming object)

10/10

cute, shy, adorable, polite. would've befriended it if I could've. smooth white, long necked creature. dolphin like face in a freshwater lake. was eating a catfish carcass in shallow water. didn't have fur or scales, kinda smooth. looked like a pleisasaur ngl. total bby.

4. jersey devil but it wasn't in jersey

5/10 only because it looked like a dragon

was with my fam at night driving through the forest, saw reflective eyes, and thought it might've been a wolf or smth. saw a huge horned face with yellow-ish eyes between the trees. scarred me for life but it still looked neat.

5. the shadow people

1/10 show up in the worst times nearly made me fall and die in the shower

4 foot tall little dudes. run like narutu on steroids. had to do a butt-ton of protective and banishing wards to get them to leave. energy vampires. not fun but not particularly dangerous.

6. the "voice"

5/10 probably a wind spirit of some kind, doesn't necessarily seem malicious but likes to scare my ass off

can change their voice at will, and blows gusts of wind in your face. apparently my dog can see them too. not too much is known on them, idk, they kinda freak me out.

7. the harpist

3/10 props for great talent but was probably trying to lead me to my doom

floating harp music in the woods behind my grandparents. heard growls there too. maybe fae related, probably tried to steal my soul. never followed after it. my cousin heard it too, we ran like our butts were on fire back to the house.

8. the drummers

1/10 definitely would've been damned if I followed

didn't have any effect on me but a family member wanted to follow them. came from the corn fields, sounded like jumanji. hahahahahell no.

#cryptidzoology #cryptids #ghost #witchy #spirits #beings #monsters

[tainted-wine]

Just gonna leave this here: a quirk that turns Hawks into an actual hawk version of himself that can talk, and his poor s/o must be his falconer until the quirk wears off. Alternatively, Dabi getting chibi’d. MANY LOLS TO BE HAD. And also burnt pants pockets, if I’m not mistaken.

If Hawks was a bird, I’d imagine his appearance would resemble a Brahminy Kite aka red-backed sea eagle. Yeah, I know they’re not exactly hawks but it’s such a perfect look for him. Though I’d imagine his front plumage to look more blonde than white.

The news reporters were already swarming him. At least give him a chance to breathe; this was probably more shocking to himself than it was to them. It’s also just a little intimidating to have so many people several times his height squatting down and shoving mics into his little beak.

“Did you see the villain that did this to you, Hawks?”

“How long will this quirk last?”

“Will you be able to carry on with hero work in this condition?”

“What do you have to say to your fangirls right now?”

“Would you be willing to have a photoshoot with us and promote our bird shop?”

He raises his wings (man, it’s weird when they’re your only upper limbs) and attempts to calm everyone down.

“Relax, everyone. I’ll have this all fixed up soon, I promise! And don’t think I’ll be taking a break from hero work just because I’m small enough to perch on your arm. You villains out there better stay put!”

The flashing cameras hurt. His eyes felt more sensitive than ever.

Of course, that was a bit of a lie. Hell no, he isn’t fighting any competent villain while he’s a literal bird, but he already knows that the Hero Commission isn’t going to let him sit back even while he looks like this.

-----------------

What the fuck were you watching.

A group of reporters were crowding a bird that had just hopped out of your lover’s hero outfit which was piled on the floor. And they were calling the bird Hawks.

And then the bird spoke. With Hawks’s voice.

No way.

A bit less than an hour after those surreal interviews, a rapping sound was heard at your window. Lo and behold, the same bird you’ve been looking at all over the Tweeter feed was waving at you as he waited patiently to be let in.

You didn’t know where to even start as he waddled in, unsteady on legs that bended in ways he wasn’t used to, and large talons that scratched every surface.

“Did ya miss me, baby bird?” Wow, he really just used his seductive voice. 

Your discussion with him about what he plans to do while in his current form is as awkward as you expected, with one extra curve-ball thrown in.

Your face looms over his smaller head. “What do you mean you need me on your patrols? Patrols that you shouldn’t even be doing right now?”

He shakes and puffs up his feathers. “You’ll be my partner in crime! Well, more like you’ll be the one carrying my goods around and answering calls while I take down bad guys. And I have to make sure I always have a good takeoff spot, since I’m not as quick and limber of a flyer as I usually am. It’ll be safe, I promise.”

-----------------

It wasn’t very safe.

Sneaking up on a villain in a sketchy ally was not safe at all. Hawks was unknowingly digging his talons into your skin as he kept his body low, his wings only half-folded in case he needed to fly at any moment.

With a signaling squeeze (ouch), you swung your arm as he leapt off and flew toward the unassuming criminal.

It was...ridiculous, watching what was an intimidating man make high-pitched yelps of surprise and swat at the hawk flapping around his head. All respect as a villain is probably lost if you’re subdued by a bird that isn’t even half your size.

“Now!” Hawks shouted while he had the man’s arms pinned behind his back.

You rushed in to click the handcuffs around his wrists. 

“That’s your third arrest, baby bird! You oughta try for a hero license!” He praised you with a wink.

“Thanks, but I’d rather have this entire fever dream end as soon as possible.”

His phone vibrated in your pocket and you withdrew it to see which sidekick or Commission member was calling him this time. Instead, a strange name popped up.

“Who is...‘Burnt Bitch’?”

Hawks swooped in and snatched the phone out of your hands before you could even blink.

“Aheheheh, sorry love! This is a personal call that I gotta take myself!” He flew out of your sight, leaving you to handle the humiliated and angry villain by yourself.

-----------------

Hawks swore when he scratched his screen as he attempted to answer the call. Dammit, Dabi sure was a master of contacting him at inconvenient times. 

Having finally pressed the button, he gave his usual greeting to the fiery villain. “What’s up, Dabs?”

“So you’re a literal birdbrain right now, are you? Pretty hilarious.”

That...was not Dabi’s voice.

“Um, why do you sound like a chipmunk?”

“...I’m just using a voice changer,” the squeaky villain said. “I shouldn’t make myself too obvious when talking to you.”

Hawks scratched his head, flinching when he nearly poked his eye. “You’re just now deciding to do that, and you couldn’t pick a voice that I’d actually take seriously?”

“Like you’re one to talk. I’m impressed you managed to answer the phone without any hands. You’re meeting up with me at the usual spot tonight.”

“...Tonight?”

Dabi groaned, which sounded more like those low meows that angry cats do. “Did I stutter? Those holes in your bird head work, right? And you better not laugh when you get here.”

Click.

Hawks’s inner eyelids blinked rapidly at the phone. What would he laugh about?

-----------------

Oh.

That’s what.

Hawks rested on a trash can as he watched Dabi emerge from the shadows behind the abandoned building. He was pretty far away, his form slowly getting bigger as he got closer. Although...Hawks is pretty sure that he should look a lot bigger from that distance. Maybe the angle of his giant eyes was screwing up his depth perception.

It was only when Dabi was right in front of him did Hawks realize that the villain was the size of a toddler.

He tried not to let any laughter slip past his beak, and failed miserably.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Dabi growled in his helium voice. Oh god he wasn’t using a voice changer on the phone.

That made the bird hero laugh even harder, wings outstretched as he tried to keep his balance. “Wh-wha...” He struggled to speak between wheezes. “What the hell happened?”

Dabi shuffled in his kiddie hoodie. “Some dumbass thug thought it would be funny to chibify me. I thought it would be funny to turn him into ash, so I did.”

“Really? Do you know if it wears off overtime or did you just kill the poor guy without asking questions?”

“......”

“Holy shit!” Another fit of squawking laughter. “You might be adorable forever!”

A blue flame appeared in his tiny baby hands oh my god he’s so cute!

“Unlike you, I can still use my quirk, so keep talking if you want to become the fried chicken you love so much.”

"You-” Cough. “You don’t even need your fire.” Hawks's feathers were fully fluffed out as he tried to breathe. “If you keep talking with that high voice, I’m gonna keel over!”

A tiny scarred hand around his neck finally silenced him with a startled screech.

“You tweety little bastard.”

Hawks cracked up again as he choked.

-----------------

Shouta Aizawa has come across many strange sights during his late night patrols. Some of them gruesome, some of them obscene, and some that are just too weird to even be questioned.

Finding a child concealed in an oversized hoodie in a bout of fisticuffs with a bird of prey was in the third category.

He couldn’t even tell who was winning. The kid would sometimes get a hold of the bird for no more than a few seconds before a sharp beak digs into his hand and forces him to let go. It was the strangest wrestle that the underground hero had ever witnessed.

“Aww, try again, little baby! You almost had me that time!”

Wait a minute. That voice...

Right, Hawks was still doing work even though he was a damn actual hawk. Well, he probably doesn’t need his help with an unruly brat. 

Aizawa walked away from the scuffle and continued his scouting. There are real dangers out here that need to be taken care of.

#asks #hawks #dabi #don't ask any logical questions #accept the crack

[bthump]

How have you come to read Berserk? Do you remember what your thoughts and impressions were while reading this story for the first time?

ty for your interest!

I actually watched the 97 anime first. I watched it with a friend like a decade ago and I don’t remember those first impressions very well because a lot of weed was involved lol. But I do know I thought I’d be bored by it and ended up surprisingly invested and engaged. I of course shipped griffguts and I was definitely shocked at how close to canon it was, with scenes like Casca’s cave monologue and Griff’s torture chamber monologue.

Then I found the Band of the Hawk scanlation and read that bc I wanted more, though I often found it confusing. I actually just checked and realized I still have a little wordpad doc I wrote notes in back then while I was reading it. So here’s some highlights:

- I adored both Guts and Griffith, and I called Guts “Gatts,” thanks to the scanlation.

- I found their trauma backstories really fascinating since I’d never rly seen that with male characters before.

- I hated Puck a lot lol :(

- From around the Lost Children arc: Hell, he's doing the same as Griffith did - building a mountain of bodies. I predict that he will eventually use the Behelit, and his sacrifice will be... Griffith! Because enemies can also be the most important person to you. But then he will turn it down. Also if he takes Jill, she'll be the Casca to his Griffith. Waaaiiit... if they explicitly state that it's a possibility Gatts'll use the Behelit and get all demon-y... well, obviously the temptation will be soon, and he'll say no. Not a climax as such. Just an event. Damn. Well, unless a central theme of the rest of this is Gatts' temptation to monsterize himself.

well hey I called Guts getting his own Casca parallel follower, I just didn’t know it would be Farnese.

- I was seeing Casca and Griffith parallels apparently, but I was being vague so I don’t know what parallels exactly. Maybe just the ‘shell of former self’ thing.

- very exasperated by how no man can interact with Casca without trying to rape her.

- went ham during hill of swords ofc but surprisingly not at Guts forgetting his urge to kill lol: OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS CHAPTER IS CALLED REUNION ON THE HILL OF SWORDS OMFG REUNION OMG OMG OMGOMGOMGOMGOMOMGOMGOMOGMOGMOGMOMGOD OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

- bb me still knew what was up re: Griff: He's not sociopathic, he's just so singleminded that he'll do anything for his goal. I was going to say that he's so single minded that he doesn't care what he does for his goal, but that's not true - he DOES care, he just does it anyway.

- I was getting bored with the Millenium Falcon arc and didn’t care about any of the new characters aside from kind of liking Serpico and absolutely hating Isidro. I didn’t say anything about Farnese but I do have a vague memory of getting excited that there was another female soldier character followed immediately by disappointment that she can’t actually fight. So if I didn’t like her back then that’s probably why.

- I was a little disappointed when Guts got the berserk armour because fight scenes aren’t as cool when the protag has a magic power up. I was right tbh.

- I seem to have quit writing around the beach chapters. I think I did actually drop it around there probably, I’d already taken one break and I was forgetting stuff and generally losing the thread of the story iirc.

also I believed Griffith was very likely to get redeemed at the end? Here’s my “reasoning” lol:

Consise, laid-out reasoning why Griffith will be redeemed. He'll probably die right afterwards, but he will certainly sacrifice himself in an act of redemption. 1. The slug-dude did so for his daughter in an act of foreshadowy self-sacrifice. 2. Skull-knight dude tells Gatts that he perhaps has the power to stop fate or whatever. 3. Griffith's whole friendship speech that throws everything in motion. It's super important, but one aspect that is truly important is that for him to call someone a friend, he has to be an equal - following his own dream, etc. When he becomes Femto, this gives Gatts the motivation he needs to get real. If Femto/Griffith eventually sees Gatts as his equal, this metaphorically equals friendship. Of course this will manifest in a respectful arch-enemy thing, once Femto learns to truly fear Gatts, but the metaphor is still there and it will come out when he eventually DOES sacrifice himself because he can't bear to lose his one equal/bff/etc. It will be very Final Gameish. 4. The only man who made Griffith forget his dream is Gatts. Gatts has a huge amount of power over Griffith in regards to his desire to rule everything. 5. Portions of the story are still seen from Griffith's point of view - indeed, a humanized Femto - and this gives me great hope that during these bits we'll see more greyscale characterization. 6. Also in a weird way they kind of have a child together apparently. Idk. 7. Based on the whole sequence before The Golden Age, Gatts gets dark. And ruthless. Mirroring Griffith's transformation, just a bit. 8. Also the fact that Gatts has a freaking

I didn’t fail to copypaste it properly, I just never finished that sentence. But it was probably “behelit” if I gotta guess. Final Game def references the never-made 70s Doctor Who episode where the Master was going to sacrifice himself to save the Doctor, fyi, not the Sherlock Holmes story. Me lowkey comparing every hero/villain dynamic to Doctor/Master when I was 20 is presumably why I assumed they’d get to a respectful arch nemeses vibe lmao.

I guess tbf I wasn’t talking about a redemption arc so much as a humanizing death lol, I just wouldn’t call that a redemption now. I don’t completely disagree with my past self, though I def had some dumb ideas.

It sucks that I dropped it before all the good parts of the MF arc tbh, Griffith vs Ganishka and Guts and Zodd teaming up etc. I wonder what I would’ve thought of it.

Anyway yeah lol, ty for asking and prompting me to find this lol, it was fun to reminisce!

Oh also if you want to see my more recent and technically third impressions lol I did start this blog just to liveblog my more meta-y re-read of Berserk. Here’s the tag for that in chronological order.

#Anonymous #ask #b #i'm gonna tag this #berserk liveblog #lol

[bangtanlalaland]

falcon | jjk 01 (m.)

synopsis ⇣ Jungkook Jeon, known as “Falcon,” unites with his best friend to rebel against the twisted, dominant system of the city, Python, until everything changes when he crosses paths with one of many enemies.

— dystopia au; enemies to lovers au

⇢pairing: free runner!jeon jungkook x detective!female reader    ⇢featuring: free runner!park jimin, free runner!kim namjoon, free runner!min yoongi & police captain!jung hoseok

⇢genre: angst, fluff, smut

⇢word count: 12.2k

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: (this fic is totally inspired by mirror’s edge), there’s isn’t any smut in this chapter (but there will be in future chapters), slow burn, some fluff in there, so much dialogue (it’s literally a MOVIE), some violence, some blood, some death, swearing lots of action (oops), fighting, free-running, lots & lots of drama (srsly get your popcorn ready), mentions of premonitions, major plot twists, infidelity (sorta?), mentions of sex, some sope action (yes i said it), namgi is also a thing (oop), basically jungkook is a rebel & proud, jimin is very clever (like woah), namjoon is a leader & sweetheart (as always), yoongi is a bad guy (¿woahhh did we expect that?) hoseok is a fuckboi (i’m sorry ugh :(((), also viper in this story is actually taehyung (oop), police stuff (duh), lots of bi stuff going on here, (much love for the lgbtq community)

artwork poster by: @hellenys​​

song rec: “falcon” by jaden smith

a/n: woah! so this is yet another wip that I’ve had for so long. I’ve made the decision to make this a series! (or maybe a two-shot) still not 100% sure yet, but I am honestly beyond relieved to finally release this. also a huge thank you to @hellenys​ for the artwork! I was actually inspired to start writing falcon after seeing her work. (specifically the photo above^) so you guys go check her out, her artwork is amazing!

Smack.

The sound of your boss dropping a chunky stack full of vanilla colored folders onto your desk, in your cubicle, startles your attention from sipping your now third afternoon dose of coffee. You swear he has been on your ass ever since you stepped foot into the clouded atmosphere of the police department. You were convinced you’re in Hell. Literally.

He eagerly spills, “These missing persons reports aren’t going to solve themselves. I can’t even step out for a $5 burger at that fast food shit place down the street without the press breathing down my neck about the citizens’ missing loved ones.”

You sigh for what has been the one thousandth time today so far. Going on one thousand-one. This city has been getting worse as the days go by, missing persons reports dating as far as 10 years back, maybe more if you really dig deep in there. Runners scatter the rooftops of the city, yet you and your entire team were left with zero leads. And your boss was right; the press was constantly nagging like a toddler at the age of two. Yet you and your tiny team were responsible for getting hands dirty and finding answers. And here he goes yet again…

“Contact the victims families. See if there’s any new information they could give us. Just in case. Over time, victims may remember details they happened to leave out- ” The phone for the department rings on your desk, and you hold your index finger up as if to politely ask your boss to shut his damn mouth so you can answer the phone.

“Python Police Department.” Your face grows concerned, mouthing to your boss: “Missing Person.” He throws his hands up and shakes his head in response, waiting for your departure from the phone. The elderly woman seemed borderline upset, but mostly depressed. As if all the life that was once in her was drained completely. After reassuring you will find answers, you hang up and turn to face your boss.

“It was a lady named Mrs. Jeon. She wants to follow up on the case for her son. Jungkook?” You say, more so as a question rather than a statement, in hopes that you pronounced his name correctly. Your boss nods in approval, clearly knowledgeable of who you’re talking about.

“Yeah she calls here at least one or twice a week saying the same thing over and over again,” he pauses momentarily then starts, “I remember that kid. He was in high school when his mother reported him missing,” he continues while shaking his head.

“I’ll never forget the day dispatch called me out there to see what was going on. This was back in my rookie detective days. At first I thought maybe he’s just playing hooky. Happens all the time, right?” You nod in agreement. You’d heard of his name before but never looked into it, considering you’d just been promoted 4 months ago. And for the first month, you’d only been sent to canvas witnesses. Although sadly, Jungkook is simply one among hundreds if not thousands of cases that have gone cold.

He continues, “But then, we checked the grid and his chip was gone. We didn’t get any alerts about its removal, so it was definitely shocking.”

“That doesn’t make sense. What do you mean it was gone?” You ask with crossed arms.

“Well, more like the grid showed that the chips’ location was his home. Obviously, he isn’t home and we searched the house. No chip.” He pauses for a moment as if processing what he’s about to say, “Someway, somehow, he removed himself from the grid. But, he wasn’t the only one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I reassured Mrs. Jeon that if he didn’t show up in two days then we could file a missing persons report. She insisted that something was wrong and didn’t want to wait two days. But she had no other choice, and so she filed the report and days turned into weeks, months, and years.”

“How long?” You question.

With a sigh he replies, “Five.”

“No wonder she’s calling.”

“I know. But that’s the weirdest thing about it. As I mentioned, Jungkook wasn’t the only one with a missing chip.” He reassures with a sigh of what you assume is exhaustion.

“And?”

Your boss squints his eyes, as if he’s thinking.

“Follow me.”

He leads you to the “Cold Cases” room. It looks almost like a library, but instead of children books it’s several cases from murders to runaways — where endless amounts of evidence, files, reports, and other tangible items are stored. He scrambles through a pull out drawer of folders labeled and sectioned off in alphabetical order. He then pulls out a vanilla folder, and opens the file, revealing a photo of a young teen with dark, brown hair and plump, pink lips.

“Mrs. Park. Mother of Jimin Park. She filed a missing persons report the same day Mrs. Jeon did. They actually came together. And apparently they live on the same street.” He states while exiting the room and striding you into his office.

You inquire, trying to catch up to his quick pace. “So what are you implying?”

“I think…” he trails off, placing the folder on top of his desk and flopping into his office seat. “Jungkook and Jimin decided to drop out of school and run away in the sunset together.”

“And why would you assume that?”

“Well, let’s talk about the runners that run the rooftops. I know you’re still trying to get the hang of things, but there’s a pattern with this.”

“Okay?” You more-so question, rather than stating.

“First things first. Their chips. Runners always remove them, except we get alerts when done so.” He pauses. Of course you’re aware of the misdemeanor charge for that, right?” You nod in a “yes” gesture.

“Good. So, first they remove the chips. Second, they completely vanish. No one sees them for good and has no knowledge of where they are. It’s like they never existed, right? Families, friends, co-workers or whoever they know don’t see them anymore.”

You nod again, catching along. “Mmhmm.”

“Then, a missing persons report is filed. Either by a relative or a close friend. With that being said, it only makes sense that Jungkook and Jimin would be close together at least. I mean surely if Mrs. Park filed a report with Mrs. Jeon then couldn’t they both have known each other? Or at least had some knowledge of the relationship their sons had with one another? And again, the chips. Surely, they were in this together, and there’s not one part of me that doubts it.”

You take a deep sigh, soaking this information in, “Makes sense.”

“Look,” he says, while moving closer to you, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You gaze upon him, admiring the beauty mark on the left side of his top lip. His chocolate waves crown his face.

“What I’m trying to say is- If you find one of them, chances are you’ll find the other. Just… please be careful, ____. If these guys can suddenly vanish off the grid without a trace, who knows what else they’re capable of?”

Meanwhile, Jimin barges into a hideout on a rooftop (now part of an abandoned building) far into the city, but enough distance from prying eyes. He’s panting, out of breath, sweating and bent over as he removes his earpiece, swiping the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. He runs his fingers through his jet, black strands. The sun slightly scorched his once pale cheeks, resulting in a rosy, pink shade.

“Fuck!”

Namjoon removes his headset and arises from his seat in the area that he and his mates have labelled as “coms,” having hacked into the city’s surveillance system.

“Good job, Phoenix. Water?” He asks, while offering Jimin a sip of his bottled water, before downing it completely.

“Fuck, no. I almost fucking died!” Jimin replies, still panting.

“Relax. You’re alive, aren’t you?” Namjoon retorts nonchalantly.

He crushes his plastic bottle and lunges it toward Jungkooks slumped figure over the couch nearby. He grunts in response, jerking up in his sleep. Being on the run for the past 5 years has only caused him to be as alert as a hawk.

“You’re up next, Falcon.” Jungkook shakes his head, gaining consciousness of his surroundings again. His black tank top and white nylon sweats having stuck to his form. His milk, chocolate strands blanket his face as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. The faint sunlight helps to awaken him from his slumber, as he covers his eyes to adjust to the sunrays. Jimin, who now has gained his breath back, flings his earpiece at Jungkook.

“Blue lights are heavy today. Watch your ass, huh?” With that, Jungkook stretches upward while placing the earpiece on. On his way towards the tiny kitchen area, Namjoon keys into the channel.

“Thunderbird for Falcon.” Jungkook gulps his banana milk and returns the carton to its place in the fridge. Wiping his mouth to rid the milk residue, he responds, “Go for Falcon.”

“I’m sure you probably don’t want to hear this. But it’s time for a test run.”

Jungkook is silent, yet internally screaming. He hates test runs. Who doesn’t though?

“I know what you’re thinking. I’ve told you before that one time won’t count. But, I need to calculate your momentum, and it helps tremendously to compare to your previous test runs.” Jungkook wasn’t worried about speed, but more so about his body. The last time he’d done a test run, he had completely passed out from overworking his body. Namjoon couldn’t leave the hideout, given that blue lights were everywhere and he didn’t want to risk not having anyone watching over the place. Luckily Jimin was already out for a run, and decided to take a detour to rescue his best friend. But, Jungkook does not like to fail. In fact, he despises it. He’s afraid that he’d fail. Again. He takes a deep breath.

“I know you can do it. The advantage now is that you actually got rest.” Jungkook couldn’t help but nod in agreement. He knew the last time he was going non-stop and being the stubborn bunny he is, Namjoon warned him more than once that he’d burnout sooner or later. But that’s the conflict with Jungkook. He grew complacent of being on the run constantly. It’s his life now; he hates the society he lives in and refuses to live according to the systems’ standards.

“Copy that, Thunderbird.” Jungkook responds, his arms and hands flexing, veins popping, as he slips on his neon red fingerless gloves. He pulls the straps of his black mask over and behind his ears — completely concealing most of his face.

Namjoon smiles in response, “That’s what I like to hear! Let’s bring that energy to the test, Falcon.”

Back at the station, you step out of your formal addression towards your boss and slip, “Hobi, I’ll be fine.”

“I know, I just can’t see myself losing you. You know how much you mean to me, right?” He asks, while reaching his hand towards your cheek with the intent to caress you but your reflexes immediately catch on, and you turn the opposite direction while muttering under your breath, “You know that we can’t-”

“I know. Sorry.”

A brief moment of silence shares the space between you both. Hoseok Jung, or as your recent pet name for him: Hobi, is not only the police captain of the Python Police Department, but currently your main squeeze as well. At least, that’s what you’d like to think. You can’t quite pinpoint what “this” with him is, given that neither of you made it official yet or set any boundaries. Which resulted in this continuous cycle of confusion on where you stand in this said “situationship.” But you don’t probe him, instead you just go with the flow and see where things lead. The only major conflict is that no one at the station should know about your doings. Or else there would be major consequences to face. You suppose that’s why Hoseok is the way he is with you. Maybe you’re nothing but a fling to him. Although some of the things he says deem otherwise.

“Last I heard, his street name is Falcon.” Hoseok skims through a folder on his desk that contains numerous papers, all to what you assumed held important information, then he pulls one out.

“I have a list of coordinates for locations where security cameras are installed and picked up high runner activity. Check those out and see if there are any leads. If no luck, go out and canvas witnesses on the street.” You nod in agreement, gathering your belongings to head on your way when suddenly you feel Hoseok’s grasp on your wrist. You immediately turn your gaze towards him, eyes blown wide as saucers.

“Please, be careful. Call me when you make it to the first and last location.” You eye his grip on you and snatch away quickly, regaining your composure.

“I will,” you respond, while slipping out of his office to leave the building.

On the rooftops, Jungkook gets into position. Staring ahead of himself, he takes a deep breath, awaiting Namjoon’s marker. A tiny droplet of sweat drips down the right side of his face, trailing down to his neck.

“On your mark. Ready.” Jungkook takes another deep breath. The sun suddenly becomes beyond its warm state, at this point, it’s scorching. His palms are damp. The black of his tee absorbs the city’s heat.

“Set.”

His mind goes racing in a million different ways. It was strange that at this moment, his mother crosses his mind. He wondered if she was okay. But, he couldn’t risk seeing her. Exposing himself. Then blue lights would find out, and   he’d be done. For good.

No, can’t risk it. No matter how much it hurts.

Since the age of 18, Jungkook called the rooftops his home. Some part of him felt selfish for only thinking of himself and leaving his mother behind. But he knew she would only scold him for rebelling against the system. Therefore, it was imperative that he left. For months, he and Jimin elaborated an escape — consistently backtracking and fixing any errors in their plan.

Unfortunately, plans don’t always go as planned and being just a couple of high school kids, Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t fully thought out the whole “where would we bunk” deal. But, all changed when they reached the rooftops. Although the first two years were literal Hell. Probably part of the reason Jungkook had become too exhausted at the end of it all. It was horrid to run non-stop, stability not being an option. Jungkook and Jimin had several quarrels with other runners. It became a cycle that Jungkook grew weary of:

Getting accepted into a hideout → Developing trust with other runners → Everything feels comfortable now →  Someone does something to show their true colors (Runners are out to get each other, despite the consequences. Whether the reward is for money, power, or maybe even freedom) → Jungkook and Jimin realize they can’t trust other runners → In conclusion, they flee → The process repeats

That is, until they met Namjoon. At first, he resisted. He previously had one roommate before that betrayed him, just as other runners betrayed Jimin and Jungkook. He thinks of him sometimes, and he’ll never forget his name. Yoongi Min, who goes by Firebird. Blue lights offered Yoongi a deal: to persuade Namjoon into a trap, at a disclosed location, in return for clearing his own name of all criminal records — freedom. Yoongi had been Namjoon’s roommate for four years, eventually growing close and becoming trustworthy of one another. Even coining each other’s names together, as a team. He always thought he’d take over the city of Python with Yoongi. Thus, that’s why Namjoon took Jungkook and Jimin in; because he saw them as himself and Yoongi, knowing that he would have wanted someone else to do the same for him and his once good friend.

“Go.” And with that, Jungkook powers forward leading with one goal in mind: Fast.

“I want you to head straight as far as you can. Got it?”

“Copy,” Jungkook slips. He starts at a steady pace, sliding under pipes connected to cooling fan systems, and vaulting over fences being sure to avoid high voltage ones. However, his velocity decreases when doing so. Namjoon takes note of that.

“Try to keep a linear direction as much as possible. Jump to the next building, using the metal pipe as a pole.”

Jungkook makes an estimate on how fast he should run to land onto the pole that’s adjacent to the rooftop of the building he’s currently on. He backs away about two meters and plants his feet on the ground, getting into position. His body exerts force and within seconds, Jungkook leaps from the rooftop. His heart dropping to his stomach, silently praying that his calculations were correct; and within seconds he lands onto the metal pole, his toned biceps clinging on for life. The leather gloves he wears grant a better grip on the surface, as he pulls himself upward, finally reaching the rooftop.

“Good job, Falcon. Keep pushing!”

Jungkook heaves, but knows he can’t stop now. He continues to scan his surroundings, taking in the view of the city from his vantage point. The sun still beams within the distance. Glass buildings towering the city, camera drones and lightweight super-jets scattering the sky.

No time for distractions.

Jungkook continues on his path as instructed by Namjoon. Lightly jogging, he rapidly picks up his pace until he takes a quick glance to his right and something catches his eye: a security camera, hanging below a billboard on the current building he stands on. He treads forward, and notices a blue light on the camera that blinks rapidly. He sticks his middle finger up towards the object and makes a swift turn to walk away when suddenly he stops dead in his tracks.

You push open the door to the rooftop access, finally having reached the top of the corporate office building of Cobra Enterprises, the biggest conglomerate in the city. To your surprise, on your left, there stands a man with doe-like eyes and lengthy, coffee-colored strands concealing his face. Your mouth flew agape, realizing that this is your first encounter ever with a runner — his neon red gloves serving as evidence.

“Falcon, what’s going on? I’m picking up a blue light within your perimeter,” Namjoon keys in. Jungkook says nothing, simply eyeing your form. He’d never been in love, and it wasn’t as if he’d recognize love even if it were standing right in front of his face with a big sign that said: “Hey! It’s me. I am love.” It was your essence that gave him an odd feeling. A feeling that intrigued him for some strange reason. But then you flashed that shiny PPD badge, which glistened in the sun, and it caught his attention — instantly sending a wave of discouragement throughout his heart.

“I’m Detective ____ with PPD,” you slip.

“Abort the test run! Get the hell out of there!” Namjoon commands on the other end of Jungkook’s earpiece. You attempt to step closer to the man, but he raises his hand up.

“Don’t come any closer.”

You shake your head, “It’s okay. I-I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk, okay?” You reassure while gradually lifting your hands up in the air, as if surrendering to him. He scoffs, obviously not impressed by your coy tactic.

“A blue light wanting to talk? Nah, don’t think so,” he spits while clenching his fists and backing away.

“No, please! I-I-” You suddenly become tongue-tied, as the man evidently runs away out of your sight, leaving you behind. Frozen in place.

That asshole.

Your cell rings conveniently at the right moment.

— Hobi ❤️ [Incoming Call]

You swipe to answer, and can’t even get a “hello” out before Hoseok starts on his shit again.

“Goddammit, ____! I told you to call me when you got to your first location.” He sounds furious, as if you’re his pet on a leash.

“Okay, dad!” You retort, clearly annoyed with him in this moment as you make your way down the exhausting flight of stairs inside the building.

“You know what-” Hoseok runs his fingers through his waves. “My place. 30 minutes.” The sound of a click on the line indicates that he hung up, leaving you with a frustrated temper.

Jungkook storms into the hideout, snatching his mask off of his face. Namjoon rips his headset off, visibly pissed.

“You wanna tell me what the hell happened back there?”

Jungkook scoffs, currently not up for anyone’s shit, as he trails to the fridge to grab his carton of banana milk yet again. Namjoon rolls his eyes while shaking his head. Jungkook releases his lips from the carton and slips, “Nothing.”

The sound of Namjoon’s tongue clicking echoes through the space, “Bullshit! You know our code, and you did NOT follow!”

With his back, turned Jungkook takes a deep huff, cheeks on fire. Jimin silently creeps nearby and coyly chimes in,

“See a blue light, call it a night. Don’t take flight, and you’ll put up a fight.”

“That’s right, Phoenix. We do NOT stick around once a blue light is within our sight. We take flight. Is that understood?” Namjoon probes with a stern tone, directing towards Jungkook.

The youngest turns face forward, with a clenched jaw and jutted chest. He says nothing, clearly testing the eldest. Namjoon steps forward and closes the gap between one another, so close that their noses nearly touch.

“Is that understood?” He inquires, his voice a few octaves lower. Jungkook pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before breaking.

“Copy.”

“Get your shit together, Falcon. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.” Namjoon pulls away and brushes past Jimin, heading out of the kitchen. Infuriated, Jungkook lunges the now empty carton toward the wall ahead of him and also brushes past Jimin, who grasps his wrist in time to halt him. A look of worry spreads across Jimin’s face.

“Come on, Kook. You know Thunderbird. He’s just trying to protect us. It’s like… his job.”

Jungkook stays silent, thinking if he would ever get to see your innocent face again. Jimin nudges his arm to grasp his attention.

“You do know that you can talk to me, right?” He reassures with a promising expression. Jungkook simply nods and walks away, leaving Jimin worried. He knows when something is wrong with his best friend. He can feel it. But he also knows that Jungkook is a tough cookie, and it will take time for him to finally crack.

Meanwhile, Jungkook locks himself in his room — having confined himself completely from the world even if it was just for a few hours. How could he be so stupid? Why couldn’t he just talk to you like you wanted? Maybe you were a good person. At least that’s what he assumed, considering your beautiful face.

No. Snap out of it!

He can’t trust anyone. It’s for his own good. As the sun sets, he peeks through the glass window in his room to soak in the view of the city. Streams of pink, yellow, and blue paint the evening sky. If only he’d introduced himself to you, maybe he would feel a slight less pain in his chest. It was something Jungkook craved that he’d never gotten yet.

Intimacy.

Hoseok is frustrated; he runs his fingers through his hair for what has felt like the millionth time today.

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” He asks with a dark, lustful feel in his eyes. You gaze at him in complete silence.

“Can’t obey me anymore or what?” He lets out a frustrated sigh while gripping your hips.

“Oh you’re asking for it, huh?” He coos while mustering up the idea to tickle his way into getting a response from you. You break the silence, the sound of your laughter filling up his penthouse. Giggles and gasps for breaths emit from you, a sound that Hoseok thinks he could hear for the rest of his life and never grow tired.

“Oh my-! S-stop!”

And like a light-switch, he abruptly stops. His hands falling down to your sides, gripping your hips again. He gazes into your stare for what feels like an eternity. That familiar beauty mark on his lip is your favorite sight. He notes your eyes landing on his lips for too long, and he takes the opportunity to inch forward and meet yours.

He tastes like coffee — the kind you have in the morning before heading out to the station. The kind you’re used to sipping while reading emails at work or making phone calls. Or even the kind you order from your favorite coffee shop where you first met him and continue to meet up with him there to discuss anything work related.

Your lips soften against his, as his softens against yours. You’re not even sure how that is possible. Physics? Maybe.

However, the thought of your relationship with Hoseok crosses your mind. And  before you could even think twice about what to do, with his tongue literally down your throat, you unexpectedly shove him lightly. His eyebrows furrow in response, concerned if he’d done something wrong (when he could swear you like french kissing, considering you both do it all the time, and he remembered you mentioned one moment how much you like to do so).

“What are we? What is this?” You blurt out. Hoseok’s expression makes you instantly regret asking him. He pulls himself away from you completely to pace back and forth with his hand on his hip, shaking his head. Your gaze drops to the floor, feeling like such shit for bringing it up. But you’d be damned if he made you feel bad, because you have to know. For your own sake. Your own sanity.

“Are we really doing this right now?” He asks while sitting down on the leather loveseat.

That’s it. Something in you snaps.

“Hoseok!” You screech, gaining a wide-eyed stare from him.

“We’ve been fucking for over 2 years! What did you think? That I was just going to keep floating around, letting you stuff me every fucking week and not say anything about it?”

You are a panting, hot, and frustrated mess on the verge of tears from how upset you are. Hoseok watches your riled up figure, and he can’t seem to bring words together. He’s had a long day and wants nothing more than to release his stress into you either on his bed, or this loveseat, or maybe the kitchen counter if you can’t make it to his bedroom. But your emotions are clouding the atmosphere, and it’s something he can’t handle.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say,” he states dryly.

You felt like someone just hammered a nail into your heart. Your mouth flies agape, sucking in a breath to contain yourself from crying in front of his eyes.

“Why can’t we just fuck and not go through all of this? What do we need a label for anyway? It’s not like anyone at the  station is going to find out.” He shrugs, emitting a chuckle paired  with a nonchalant vibe.

Drip.

And then a tear fell down your cheek, prompting yourself to march out the front door and never look back. Clutching your crossbody, your leather chelsea boots click against the hardwood floor. Before Hoseok had the chance to grab you by the wrist, you were gone. You continued strutting down the hall, better yet lightly jogging to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible. Your fingers find placement on the ↓ button for the elevator.

Ding.

The moment the elevator doors shut is when the tears came streaming down   your cheeks, like a waterfall. You knew all along it was a bad idea to get involved with Hoseok. You’re sentimental and have always been so. “Catching feelings” while having weekly sex with him was bound to happen eventually. All in all, you could say that you saw the end coming, but at least 70% of you wanted things to be different than what they were. As your mother would call it, “living in la la land.” For the remainder of  the night, you comfort yourself on your couch, stuffing your face with leftover chocolate-covered strawberries and sipping champagne. All while venting on the phone to your childhood friend and updating him on the current situation with Hoseok.

“Ah. I’m sorry, noona. Hobi is a real ass sometimes, you know?”

You take another sip from your wine glass, “Ugh. That’s the thing!” You pause, popping a strawberry in your mouth, “I knew it. And yet, I still fell for him. I’m just horrible, a mess.”

“Don’t say that,” he replies with a yawn following his response.

“It’s true, Yoongi! I’ve literally been letting him in this whole time and not standing my ground. It’s so pathetic of me,” You sigh with a frown upon your face that Yoongi obviously cannot see.

“Wow. He was that good, huh?” You roll your eyes just thinking about it, “Ugh, yes! Don’t even remind me!”

“Well-” yet another yawn cutting him off again, “Just take your time, you   know? I’m sure it won’t be that easy to get over him. But eventually, it’ll happen.” Your eyes begin to tear up again, “You really think so?”

Yoongi hesitates for a brief moment, “No, I’m just trying to get you off the phone so I can go to sleep.”

“Fuck you, Yoongi Min.” His cute giggle lifts your mood in a contagious way — making you laugh out loud along with him.

“You’ll  be fine, ____. Really.” A tear finally drops down your face. This is why you love Yoongi, and why you’d been friends with him almost your entire life. He’s someone you can trust, always having been there for you. It didn’t matter the distance you were from each other, or how long it had been since you contacted one another, you both would pick up right where you left off.

“Goodnight, Yoongs. Love you.” His gummy smile appears as he replies, “Love you too, ____. Goodnight.”

After hanging up with Yoongi and having your belly full enough of strawberries and wine, your thoughts continuously play over the events of today, making you realize how drained you are. Then the image of the runner from earlier crosses your mind. God, was he the hottest man you’ve seen in awhile, at least from what you could see due to his mask covering most of his face. But his lengthy strands paired with his toned biceps and tall, lean figure are what got you. The sun bounced perfectly on his tanned, body, displaying a gorgeous shimmer of sweat he was drenched in, kind of reminded you of your fave Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts.

His eyes were bright and beautiful, and you’ll never forget the way he was startled when you approached him — like a deer in headlights. You wonder what else was “hot” about him that you didn’t get a chance to see. Okay, maybe it’s just the wine talking. Some part of you wished you could have at least asked what his name was, but he wasted no time in evading you. Even though you felt a slight sting  in your heart, you couldn’t blame him for leaving. After all, you’re a cop and he’s a runner. Of course he’d “run” from you.

Hoseok is sound asleep until an alarming tone from his cell phone startles him from his slumber.

— Yoongi Hyung [Incoming Call]

“Shit.” Hoseok lets out a frustrated sigh before answering. His tired, raspy voice is heard from the other side of the line. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know you tell me.” Yoongi deadpans.

Hoseok sighs in response. Pulling away from his phone to read the time: 12:42 AM. He clenches his fist and runs his fingers through his messy mane.

“What do you want, Yoongi?”

“I need you to look into someone for me. Get ____ on the case,” Yoongi demands with a slight hint of desperation.

Seething, Hoseok retorts, “Fucking hell. Why couldn’t you wait until the morning to tell me?”

“It is morning, and before you step into the station I need to make sure it’s the first thing on your agenda. I need this done asap.”

Hoseok remains his composure on the outside but is internally screaming.

“I don’t know, Hyung. I can’t guarantee it. I have ____ on the Jungkook Jeon case, and I may have her finally close it. Hopefully-” Yoongi scoffs, on the other side, clearly not happy.

Hoseok adds, “What’s this all about anyway? And what do I get for it?”

“Did you forget who’s the eldest here?” A moment of silence falls into the phone.

“Didn’t think so,” Yoongi continues. Hoseok feels small. He always does when being confronted by Yoongi.

“I’ve cut a deal with Cobra Enterprises. The company will have a meeting tomorrow with PPD about a new project to take place. I want you to look into a guy. I’m sure you remember him. Namjoon Kim.” The youngest sighs yet again. He remembered Namjoon from his rookie days, and he also recalled Yoongi had failed to go through with the set-up.

“Press ____ to look into his file and continue there. Drop her from the Jungkook Jeon case.” Hoseok’s mouth flies open in shock at Yoongi’s request.

“Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell am I supposed to-”

“Do not try me! Now, you’ll do as I say without giving me any shit, understand?” Yoongi retorts, his voice now at a higher volume than before. His deep violet-haired, skinny stature dressed in a purple v-neck, paired with a black leather jacket and leather jeans. He paces back and forth, flipping a pen between his slender fingers. The visible ink of his black, circuit board tattoo trails from his neck down to his right shoulder and ends at his wrist.

“Yes, Hyung,” Hoseok states, his voice barely above a whisper now.

“Get her on the case for Namjoon and find out where he is! Tell her he goes by the name Thunderbird. These rooftops are massive. Viper and I cannot find him alone. Having her would help tremendously. Besides… she’s smart, and I’m sure she’d be able to get to him before I do,” he continues while staring at the view of the city from his hideout.

Hoseok lets out with a tinge of annoyance in his reply, “Fine, fine. Alright!”

“Don’t do this, and I will tell ____ about our little secret. I’m sure she wouldn’t be too happy about that either. Especially not now.”

“You better not say shit to her, you hear me?” Hoseok works up.

“Get the job done, Hobi.” Yoongi ends the call.

No, you could not find out. At least not like that. Hoseok doesn’t want you to know about the little fling with his hyung. He knows Yoongi would do anything to destroy the side thing Hoseok has with you, since he’s jealous. He wants Hoseok all to himself.

The ringing of your cell frightens you out of your sleep. Your eyes land onto your clock placed beside you on your nightstand. You silently curse whoever dares to awaken you at this ungodly hour of 3:18 AM. Surely it was none other than Hoseok Jung. You dared to not answer, but part of you needed to if you wanted to keep your job. You were slightly worried his calling may be job-related anyway. At least you hope it is, because you can’t think about how he’d hurt you the previous day. Your exhausted form answers the call with a swipe.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.” Your eyebrows furrow as you scan your bedroom in the moonlight. Your right hand finds it’s way to rub your eyes.

“What?”

“Just open the door. I’m here.”

You stay on the line, and groggily drag yourself out of bed to head beeline for the front door of your apartment. Through the peephole, there stands Hoseok with his iPhone to his ear and his head hanging low. You unlock the door and tiredly pull it open to finally meet eyes with the bastard. Yesterday’s events flash through your memory, and you’re drawn back into the mood you were in before you knocked out for what seemed like only ten minutes.

With furrowed brows you question, “Hoseok what do y-”

His lips crash with yours, cutting you off completely. Your hand that once held your phone, now wraps around his neck, easing him closer to you. His firm hands now grip your hips, flushing you to his body entirely. His plushy lips play with yours, naturally gliding and smoothing against their own accord. The bitter taste of coffee lingers on his lips, to what you assumed he more than likely had a cup of Joe before arriving to your apartment. He breaks the kiss to stare into your eyes, caressing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you,” he pauses for a beat, “It was wrong. I was wrong.”

A low sigh escapes your lips. Hoseok cups your cheeks, and gives you a small peck. You pull away to take hold of his hand and lead him into your apartment, closing the door behind the two of you. You find yourself sitting on the side of your bed, with Hoseok joining you. He rests his cool palm on your warm, exposed thigh, courtesy of your pajama shorts. Your fingers find placement on top of his hand. He stares into your gaze, guilt settling deep within his gut. Part of the reason he’d always treated you like nothing is due to his feelings for Yoongi. He likes this thing with you: being able to have you whenever he wants, do whatever he wants to you, and treat you how he wants.

It’s almost like he owns you, except he doesn’t. But he likes the complacency of the situation, knowing that you’ll always be there when he needs you. Yet he knows it’s selfish and such a narcissistic quality about himself, but he wants what he wants and cannot stop his actions. It’s this never-ending dilemma he’s stuck in of leading you on or admitting his feelings for you. Because all in all, Hoseok wants to “have his cake and eat it too.” On the other hand, Yoongi stands on the sidelines — waiting for the day he & Hoseok could be together. And now it’s worse since you’ve poured your feelings out to him. Although for Yoongi, it’s everything he’s ever wished for.

The luminance from the moonlight glows throughout the space that’s your room. Hoseok shivers slightly from your touch, the warmth of your fingers encases his cold, slender ones. You both sit in silence for a moment, just taking in each others presence. You attempt to gather your own thoughts of why Hoseok couldn’t wait to apologize until the next day you both work.

“Hoseok.” You let out, a yawn following afterwards.

“Hm?” He responds while glancing into your eyes with those gorgeous brown   eyes, his strands gracefully dressing his forehead in that familiar middle-part style.

“Cuddle?” You ask sheepishly why reaching your arms out towards him, offering your warmest embrace. His lips curl up into that stunning smile, making his eyes shut instinctively. He removes his bomber jacket and shoes, then climbs into the opposite side of your bed. You follow suit and pull your duvet over the two of you. Your arms naturally wrap around his abdomen, and  you curl up into his chest. Admiring the familiar scent of Hoseok’s  fresh, linen garments with a hint of some expensive cologne. He smells so clean, as a man should. It sends you into a trance. Your ear rests on top of his chest, growing familiar with the rhythm of his heartbeat. And it’s just enough to put you to rest.

—

The sun peaks from the skyline, beginning its journey to  rise. Deep orange and yellow hues paint the sky. A gleaming ray of light shoots throughout the hideout the three men share together. Namjoon is the first to awaken, his beach-sand colored hair ruffled in a slight mess. With a bare upper body and boxer briefs, he slips from his mattress on the ground to head for the washroom — his disheveled state still working to fully awaken. After finishing up his morning routine of brushing his teeth, washing his face, and grooming his hair, he slips on black nylon sweatpants and a red fitted tank, displaying his black, circuit board ink on his left forearm snaking up to his left shoulder and neck. He stares at his own figure in the mirror, silently hating himself for letting Yoongi talk him into getting a matching tattoo.

If only he’d knew where Yoongi’s loyalty really lied, he’d  never would have given in to him. A slight pang in Namjoon’s chest  resurfaces. He missed Yoongi, a lot more than he wanted to. Because it was more than “friendship” with him. He loved Yoongi and wanted to confess his feelings for him, but he was afraid his confession would lead to corruption of their friendship. He was also afraid of Yoongi’s “distant” personality. He was for sure it would have ruined them, even if their friendship blossomed into something more. Unfortunately, after Yoongi became a traitor in Namjoon’s eyes, he couldn’t stop the feelings he had for him and continues to have. It was  ever since that one night they’d both had a little too much soju that things led from one thing to another. He relishes in the memory of Yoongi’s lips pressed against his.

The lingering, sweet taste of alcohol on his lips is the fondest moment Namjoon has of Yoongi. He had never been more aroused by anyone else ever, and Yoongi had just that effect on him. One thing led to another, and before he could process what had happened, the next morning he’d awaken to the sight of Yoongi naked and wrapped around his chest. Ever since, the entire dynamic of their friendship had changed. Yoongi hadn’t spoken of the previous night, and neither had Namjoon. He’d never thought that a week later, he would have had no other choice but to kick out the one person he had grown to trust for so long. He never forgets the look in Yoongi’s eyes. Puffy, red, and swollen from the tears he’d cried.

Namjoon  had never seen him this shaken up before, considering his inability to show his feelings. But he believed Yoongi had done all of this to  silently punish him for sleeping with him. Liquid forms in Namjoon’s  eyes as his mind goes in circles consistently, playing the events over and over in his mind — reminiscing on the presence of who he thought would have eventually been his lover. While brewing a cup of coffee, Namjoon readies himself for the day. Upon arrival to the coms room, he seats himself at his desk, an arrange of five monitors on display. The longer one in the middle is the portal to log into Thunder, a tracking software he’d created, with Yoongi, that’s designed specifically to pinpoint a runners’ location. Of course, he had re-programmed said software to track Jungkook and Jimin’s location whenever they’d go out on a run, which is why they use an earpiece that has a tracker installed.

For safety purposes, he’d also designed it to detect when other runners are nearby while also detecting blue lights in the surrounding area. Each runner is part of a team that is represented by a color on the “rainbow spectrum,” and each color has a leader. Namjoon being the leader of Red, and along with Jimin and Jungkook representing the color. Although, the only colors from the spectrum that have been confirmed are: Orange, Yellow, and Green — while Blue and Violet have yet to be discovered. In the meantime, Jimin tosses in his sleep as though he’s experiencing a nightmare. Something within his slumber startling enough to jerk him awake, his eyes blown wide and his lips parted dramatically. His chest rising up and down as he trails his fingers through his onyx strands that fall back  onto his forehead. His arms find their way up to block the sunlight from his window that forces to blind his eyes.

His body is warm, and after sitting up completely, he realizes his white tank is soaked in perspiration. Jimin snarks at the cold sweat clinging to his upper body. Rolling out of bed, the cool tile below him makes his body shiver. He pulls his top over his head and off, flinging it to the corner of his room. His toned upper body glistens with sweat, covered with the tattoo “Nevermind” on the left side of his abdomen. Jimin rushes to the washroom to start up the glass shower.

He hops in immediately; cool streams of water race down his fit figure, drenching his black strands and gradually decreasing his body temperature. He runs his index finger across the inside of his wrist where another tattoo is displayed: 13. A small grin crosses his face, thinking of the  time he’d met Jungkook when he was 13, how they’d instantly bonded, and how far they’ve come in their lives. The number also resembling the day of his own birth. But Jimin’s smile fades, after realizing the dream he had. He knew something was wrong, because for weeks now he’d been having these nightmares that something bad would happen; everything would change, yet he wasn’t 100% sure how. Even though things were okay now, but he couldn’t help the thought that maybe his gut instinct was trying to warn him.

Knock x2.

Jimin jumps slightly at the sudden knock, and his gaze snaps up to the bathroom door, “Dude… Gotta pee,” Jungkook’s tired form slips. Outside the door, he can barely keep his eyes open — having almost pulled an all-nighter, listening to music and lifting weights in his room. Jimin swings the door open, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Scared the shit out of me, you know?” Namjoon arrives in the hallway.

“Morning, boys! We’ve got a long day ahead of us. So, get some breakfast and meet me in the coms room when you’re done.” Jimin nods and adds coyly, “Ay ay, captain!” Jungkook groans in response. On the other side of the city, the smell of eggs and bacon sizzling in a pan acts as a cue for Hoseok’s awakening. His arms stretch out, releasing  the tension that’s settled in them. He checks his phone for the time  only to find missed calls and texts, from none other than his hyung.

— Yoongi Hyung [5:02 AM] just wait till u come home. u will fucking get it!!!

— Yoongi Hyung [4:59 AM] are u fucking kidding me… i come here for dick and this is what i get? where tf are u???

— Yoongi Hyung [4:57 AM] whatever. coming in with the spare key u gave me.

— Yoongi Hyung [4:56 AM] u ass. i’ve rung the doorbell a thousand times already. are u that asleep?

— Yoongi Hyung [4:54 AM] Missed Call (x2)

Shit.

“Good morning sleepy head!” Hoseok jumps slightly at your cheeky greeting of you standing at the doorway of your room.

“I made breakfast if you’re hungry. I’ll be heading out in a few to   follow  up on any leads I can get with the Jungkook Jeon case.” Hoseok takes a huge gulp before spilling, “Yeah… About that.” He drags, while slipping out of bed. His hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I uh-” He pauses for a moment, remembering the threat Yoongi had given him. You stand there, all eyes on him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m dropping you from the Jungkook Jeon case,” he states rapidly. Your eyebrows furrow, “Why would you do that?” Hoseok sighs, thinking of anything off the top of his head to lie.

“Just-  Leave it to me. I did some digging when you left the station yesterday,”  He continues while slipping his shoes on.

“I want you to look into something else,” You nod for him continue.

“Namjoon Kim. Known as Thunderbird. He’s got a record, but he’s also  been reported as missing just like Jungkook.” Hoseok breaks away from  your gaze for a moment, internally hating himself for doing this to you. He knows he’s no good for you.

“Do you still have that list of coordinates I gave you?” He inquires, while simultaneously looking up at you and tying his shoes.

“Mmmhmm,” you simply mutter, watching his form in silence. It is clear that he’s about to leave but you waited  for him to say so. Hoseok grabs his jacket and notices you’re still standing in the doorway. He pauses to slip, “I should get going. I have some errands to run-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, the tone in your voice clearly revealing that  no it is not “fine.” You’re slightly upset really, but part of you expected Hoseok to not stay around since you’re convinced that the only reason he’d came to apologize to you was to clear his conscious. And  because, well, he was alone and wanted some form of companionship. Typical, right? Another part of you cringed at the thought you assumed  he’d treat you as if you’re both together, even though you’re not. So, it isn’t abnormal for him to just leave. It’s not like he’s committed to you. Except your heart tells you it’s just not fair. Hoseok doesn’t miss the look of disarray that spreads across your face, due to  his departure. He looks to you before leaving your apartment.

“Maybe I can come by later?” You internally cringe at his request whilst trying to not get your hopes up.

“It’s not a big deal, only if you can! Don’t go out of your way for me. Besides, I’m sure you’re busy.” He hesitates for a brief moment, then awkwardly nods as if slowly trying to process what you said. A feeling deep inside tells him that you know he’s full of shit. Maybe it’s his guilty conscious, but that makes him feel even worse for leaving you on his off day, just to be with Yoongi. The instant you shut the door behind Hoseok, your heart broke. You want to regret getting into this thing with him, but you know it was something you wanted at one point.

Jungkook attired himself in his usual pieces. Black ink tattoos of an  “X” covers just below both of his elbows. His signature three, silver hoops dangle within both of his ears, as he deliberately munches on a protein bar, while standing in the coms room.

“I specifically asked you both to come once you were DONE with breakfast,” Namjoon retorts indirectly towards Jungkook, who is undoubtedly dropping crumbs on the ground.

“Hey, don’t look at me.” Jimin throws his hands up and shakes his head as if to surrender, his jet-black strands swaying about in front of his eyes.

“As I was saying…” Namjoon continues, “I have different tasks for you both.” Jungkook’s eyes stay glued on the eldest. Jimin’s toned arms are crossed, tilting his head to the side.

“Phoenix,” Namjoon tosses a wireless earpiece to Jimin. “I want you to head over to the docks. I’ve been picking up high blue light activity lately in that area.” Namjoon gropes his chin, as if in deep thought. “Check it out and see if there’s anything you could find that’ll tell us why they’ve been so trigger happy lately.”

Jungkook abruptly stops chewing and tunes out after hearing Namjoon’s request. That is why he felt different about you. You didn’t hurt him like most blue lights would hurt runners if they’d ever been caught. That’s the difference.

“Falcon!”

The slight ringing in Jungkook’s ears immensely fades away after he realizes Namjoon is talking to him. His eyebrows rise up, as if silently asking him What? Namjoon removes a black messenger bag he has around himself and tosses it to Jungkook, who almost didn’t catch it due to the crumpled granola wrapper still in his hand and Namjoon’s sudden reflexes.

“Since your little encounter” Namjoon makes the quotation marks gesture with his fingers. “I’m sending you on a fast cash mission. You know the rules.”

Namjoon quirks his eyebrows, as if to emphasize his point. “I’ll be guiding you, but keep your eyes peeled. Your name isn’t Falcon for nothing.” Jungkook shrugs at the audacity.

“When you reach the location, there will be a runner by the name of  Viper waiting there for you. Give him the bag, and safely return back to the hideout without being detected by any blue lights.”

“Copy that.”

Namjoon nods in response, “Oh. Before I forget.” Namjoon reaches toward his glass desk to pull out a black, wireless earpiece.

“I know you’ve been borrowing Jimin’s earpiece since yours broke. So, I made a new one.” Namjoon extends his hand out to Jungkook then snaps away.

“Try not to break it this time, huh? Materials are kind of… limited.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow and obtains the piece to delicately place in his ear. He places the bag over his head and lets the strap rest on his shoulder, adjusting it to his liking — making sure it’s tight around his torso. Jimin follows and pushes his earpiece in.

Namjoon makes an overly-dramatic clap noise with his hands. “Alright, boys. Let’s get to work!” On their way from the hideout, Jimin stops Jungkook before they proceed to go on their separate ways.

“Hey,” Jimin spills, his eyes now crescent, moon-shaped due to the sizzling sun displayed brightly in the sky. Jungkook replies, “Yeah?”

“Just, uh…” Jimin lingers on for a moment, observing the ambience as if he’s searching  for something. His eyes land back on the youngest, admiring how innocent he is. Jimin loved Jungkook as his own brother, and he’d do anything to protect him. He’s convinced he’d do more than Namjoon.

“Be  careful. Okay?” A tinge of worry oozes from Jimin’s command. He wishes he could just tell Jungkook the dreams he’d been having lately, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to upset him, yet he knows he’d have to tell him sooner or later. Because recurring nightmares that Jimin has are always to some extent: true. It’s been that way for as long as he could remember. The first time he’d experienced it was when he was seven years old. He dreamt the same dream during that time, that his father was caught in a rainstorm and passed away due to a car collision.

The first night he experienced the nightmare, he was afraid; and although he’d warn his parents, all else failed. They thought it was just another bad dream that would pass. A few weeks later, his father passed away due to a DUI car accident. Jimin was devastated, and although he was right all along, he hated when the same dreams occurred because he knew eventually it would no longer be a nightmare — instead a reality.

“Always,” Jungkook answers, while turning around to jog in the opposite direction. Completely unaware of Jimin who’s still left behind and laying eyes on him. An ounce of worry overtakes him, that he misses Namjoon’s calling of his name.

“Phoenix, do you copy?” Jimin snaps back from his daydream,

“Y-yeah. I mean- Copy that. I’m here.” Namjoon keeps track of Jungkook’s location and notices Jimin’s stillness.

“Alright, let’s head west and take it from there. It’s a straight shot.” Jimin starts his run, climbing over fences, sliding under pipes, and running on walls. Namjoon uses the digital map to pinpoint the intended location.

“Looks like the docks will be on the west side of the Cobra Enterprises building.

“Copy that.” Namjoon takes a sip of his now lukewarm, medium, roast coffee.

“Switching to channel two, be right back.” Jungkook sits on the edge of a building, looking below his feet where the grand city of Python seems so tiny. Pedestrians look like ants from his perspective. Moving vehicles give the appearance of toy cars kids play with. The sound of a deep voice keys into Jungkook’s earpiece.

“Thunderbird for Falcon.” Jungkook swings his feet playfully, enjoying the summer weather, “Go for Falcon.”

“You’ll be heading east to The Echidna. Viper will be there waiting for you. Deliver the package to him, and make it back safely. Remember, no blue lights.”

Hoseok turns the key to open the door of his apartment. The sound of the front door closing startles a naked Yoongi, who steps foot into Hoseok’s room with a towel wrapped around him. His soaked, purple strands dripping with water. Hoseok shuffles his jacket and shoes off, yet notices the penthouse is filled with silence. He’d hoped Yoongi had just given up for now and left, but he knew him. He wasn’t going to leave until he got what he wanted.

His fingers glide through his own soft waves, and he treads upstairs to his room. His heart suddenly pumps faster when his eyes land on the back side of Yoongi, who has removed his towel to dry his hair. His pale, porcelain skin glowing and glistening with water and sunshine. Hoseok takes a thick gulp and clears his throat. Yoongi finds Hoseok behind him and gives his signature smirk, “Good morning.” Yoongi drops his towel on the ground and gestures a “come here” motion with his finger, and Hoseok follows.

“Missed me? I know I missed you,” Yoongi caresses Hoseok’s cheek, gazing into his brown irises, his bed-hair adding a nice final touch.

“I’m sorry, I-” Hoseok is cut off by Yoongi’s index finger placed on his lips. He commands, “Just shut up and fucking kiss me already. You owe me. Big time.” Hoseok chuckles before leaning in to wrap his arms around Yoongi, placing his hands along his back, pulling Yoongi flush to his body.

Before heading out to investigate the supposed “Namjoon Kim” case Hoseok urged you earlier to begin, you chose to pay a visit to your favorite chocolatier in the mall, the one that sells your favorite chocolate-covered strawberries. The fresh, cool breeze of the air conditioner blows through your hair as you strut through the front entrance of The Echidna. The chocolate shop wasn’t far from the main entrance, on the entry level so you decided to take your time, casually strolling through the mall. The smell of pretzels, pizza, and other delicious foods filled your senses as you passed by the food court. After a minute more of walking, you reach the shop and realize they are running a promotion: Buy one dozen of chocolate-covered strawberries, get another half off.

Just in time.

On the rooftops, Jungkook blasts over buildings and latches onto pipes, ladders, and other obstacles that help him navigate throughout the environment.

“Thunderbird for Phoenix.” Jimin keys back into Namjoon while taking a break from running.

“Go for Phoenix.” Namjoon tracks Jimin’s location, and notes how far he is from the intended location.

“Good job. You’re on the right path. You should be able to see the front side of the Cobra Enterprises building from where you are.” Jimin scans his surroundings on the east side, and notes the building with a golden, cobra snake symbol. “Yeah, I see it.”

“Good. Continue your normal path and you’ll notice the building will then be on the east side of you.” Jimin nods in approval, “Copy that.”

Yoongi and Hoseok lie in bed together, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Hoseok rests on Yoongi’s chest, drawing circles on his chest with Yoongi’s fingers laced in his strands.

“So,” Yoongi breaks the silence. “So?” Hoseok questions, admiring the soft supple skin under his fingertips.

“Gonna tell me where you were last night?” Just as Hoseok gathered up the courage to respond, Yoongi cuts him off.

“No, wait! Let me guess. With ____,” he states with a dry tone. A tinge of jealousy behind his words. Hoseok turns his head around, facing Yoongi.

“Are we really doing this again?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, pushing Hoseok off of his chest. Hoseok’s eyebrows naturally crease in response.

“Yoongi, seriously?” The eldest says nothing, his back now turned to the youngest, having flipped over on his side.

“What fucking more do you want?!” Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair, his strands falling back onto his forehead. Yoongi keys in on him, with a furious gaze. “Us!” He exclaims, sitting up and easing his way out of bed to slip on his jeans.

“I fucking want us,” He continues, more-so demanding rather than stating. Hoseok takes a deep breath. “You know that I’m working on that-”

Yoongi seethes. “Yeah, and for how long?!” His voice raising with fists clenched on his jeans, zipping them up. “Don’t you fucking get it?” He adds, slipping on his signature, purple v-neck.

“____ is in love with you. How do you just “work on that?” He emphasizes with air quotation marks. Hoseok struggles to answer, leaving his lips parted slightly. A moment of silence falls between the two. Yoongi takes this as a cue of defeat — slipping on his leather jacket.

“Exactly.” He exits the bedroom, leaving Hoseok to ponder in his thoughts, while left in bed naked, regret filling him completely.

Yoongi saunters downstairs and slips on his boots, departing from Hoseok’s loft. He runs his fingers through his hair, while marching down the hallway of the complex. His mind continues to race many miles per hour. His finger presses the button to signal the elevator, and to his surprise, the doors open quicker than he’d expected. He takes a deep breath while stepping in and recounting the moment he’d had with Hoseok.

He hates himself for getting caught up in this situation with him, and now with you involved made matters worse. His heart aches at the thought of what things would be like if he hadn’t traded Namjoon out. Yoongi misses him, but he knows he’d never accept him for who he is and he wouldn’t ever forgive him for what he’d done. A pang in his chest approaches, knowing that he and Namjoon’s future was now long gone, and merely nothing but a dream now. It hurts, and he’s hurt. Which is why he’d pressed Hoseok to get you to look into his case in the first place. He needed this. Needed closure. He misses Namjoon, and there isn’t a day that passes when he doesn’t think of him. He needs him.

You’d chosen the dozen of half milk-chocolate strawberries and half white-chocolate covered strawberries. For both sets. The cashier carefully hands you the paper bag, with two gorgeous arrangements of twelve strawberries in each box. You gracefully exit the chocolatier with the brightest smile on your face, strutting toward the entrance of The Echidna to make your departure from the mall. Jungkook awaits on the rooftops, peering at his surroundings to ensure no one is in sight. And by no one, he specifically means blue lights. His tired being squats down, seating himself on the ground, nearby one of many dome-shaped, skylights that sit behind him. The sun toasting his skin causes him to wipe away the perspiration from his forehead, for what feels like the hundredth time.

Namjoon scans the time on the Thunder portal, noting that the runner should have arrived by now.

“Viper should be within your perimeter. Do you see him?” Jungkook scans his peripheral, but there is no sight of said runner. “No, he’s not here.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, as he doesn’t see any hint of a runner nearby the mall. The only indicator visible is Jungkook’s location. A red, blinking dot on the map.

“Something’s not right,” He says to himself, shaking his head.

Jungkook feels a presence behind him and just before he could turn around to say something, a deep, baritone voice speaks out.

“Thanks for meeting me here, this was a great spot.” But when Jungkook’s eyes landed on the tall, slender form, his mouth flew agape.

Violet. One of the colors on the spectrum that hadn’t been discovered yet.

There was no way, he thought. No way it was possible. And then the eldest spoke again, realizing Jungkook’s expression.

“Hey. Red, huh? Wait-” He pauses, Jungkook clenches the bag’s strap tightly. “That’s the color where- What’s that leaders name?” His finger taps his chin as if thinking. “It’s right at the tip of my tongue… Sounds like a month?”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. How did he know Thunderbird’s real name?

“How do you know his name?” Kook questions, gripping onto the bag tighter.

“It’s Joon, right? Namjoon! There it is.” Namjoon keys in to double-check on the youngest.

“Falcon, has he arrived yet? I’m still not able to see him.” Namjoon grows hesitant from not receiving a response.

Jungkook abruptly throws the bag at the man standing in front of him and darts in the opposite direction. Viper sprints behind him and tackles the youngest down onto one of the skylights, their figures thumping and sliding against the glass. Viper bangs Jungkook’s head into the glass. Jungkook throws a harsh punch straight to Viper’s nose and tackles him down, his body now caging him in.

“Who the hell are you?!” Jungkook seethes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Viper grins with a mischievous expression. Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at his coy remark. His hands grip around his neck, applying pressure with much force.

“Falcon?” Namjoon keys in yet again. Growing suspicious, he continues to scan the area and notes a blinking, blue light that appears to be moving. His assumption is that whoever it is may be inside the mall. “Fuck.”

A tinge of venom seeps from Viper’s words, “Tell that leader of yours, that Firebird is looking for him-” He chokes, Jungkook applying more pressure.

“He better- get ready.. for him too.” He adds with a menacing laugh. Jungkook releases his neck and throws another punch to his face, his knuckles aching as a result. Viper continues to laugh, and manhandles Jungkook. His back falls back onto the delicate material below them. He drives his foot against the side of Jungkook’s abdomen repeatedly.

“Ahhh, fuck!” Jungkook groans, his fists clenching from the pain.

Jungkook forces a kick straight to Viper’s face, grazing his nose with his shoe, causing drips of blood to spill. Jungkook clenches his teeth and tackles Viper down again, and then suddenly.

Crack.

The two men gaze down below them, and witness cracks scattering along the glass of the skylight.

“Shit,” Jungkook slips.

“Falcon!” Namjoon yells into his earpiece.

Viper watches Jungkook’s expression with wide eyes, his lips parting in shock. Jungkook slowly stands on his two feet, removing himself from on top of the eldest and attempts to escape, but with the added weight of being on his feet, the glass shatters into pieces, Viper’s form falls through the skylight, en route to the interior of the mall. Jungkook trips, losing his grip on the edge, his veins popping out as he forces his body back up onto the rooftop.

You fumble in the pockets of your leather jacket to obtain your car keys. Until the sudden sound of shattering glass startles you and out of the blue, an intense cracking, thud-like sound follows by a body falling splat onto the ground level of the mall. The contents in your hands drop in response, and the only melody filling your ears is the screams throughout the entire atmosphere, civilians pushing their way to the nearest exit. A thumping beat resides in your chest, and it’s as if your heart pounds so loud you that the noise suffocates your hearing above everything else. Your mouth falls open, and your instincts tell you to examine from above, where the body initially came from. And then your eyes meet a familiar face; to say you were shocked was an understatement.

There he was. Again. The man you’d seen yesterday. You knew it was him because you remember those eyes, his hair, and that black mask. After locking eyes with you, he immediately vanishes. You glare at the body that lies on the ground, slowly inching toward the male. With shaky hands, you kneel down to feel his pulse under his neck and there’s nothing.

Jungkook charges off the rooftops of The Echidna, adrenaline pumping through his veins like never before. The last thing he needed was for blue lights on his tail. And he saw you. He fucked up again. You saw him, and now there’s nothing he can do to un-do what happened. The sound of Namjoon’s voice resonates within Jungkook’s earpiece. “Falcon! What the hell happened? Did you deliver the package?” Jungkook says nothing, instead, he runs.

Namjoon sighs in frustration.

“I’m here,” Jimin keys in. Namjoon locates Jimin’s location.

“Fuck,” Namjoon replies.

Jimin asks with a hint of confusion, “Did I do something wrong?” Namjoon sighs.

“No, Phoenix. You’ve made it to the destination. I haven’t heard from Jungkook since he arrived at The Echidna, and he isn’t responding.” Jimin’s eyes widen. Oh no, had something happened to him? What if… the dream?

“Wait what? Do you need me to head over there?” Namjoon shakes his head, as if he could see him.

“No! Stay where you are. Just find out what you can find, and I’ll be here. I’ll handle it. Over and out.”

Jimin’s heart drops. He hoped Jungkook was okay, for his own sake. He couldn’t lose another person close to his heart.

Namjoon locates Jungkook’s location, and he’s storming like a lightning bolt. He removes his headset to meet with the youngest. Jungkook pants, his chest rising and falling.

“Falcon, what the hell? How many times do I-” Namjoon is cut off by the expression on Jungkook’s face. He stops in his tracks and notices his mask is already off, with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His hands are shaking, and his heart is beating rapidly.

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook begins rambling, “I-I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck just happened!” Tears stream down his cheeks, he feels like he’s on fire, his chest continues to gasp for air. He feels like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“I-It all j-just happened s-so fast, I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon notes his trembling hands; he’d never seen him so worked up before.

“He- he came. And then I saw his purple shirt a-and I panicked, I didn’t know what the fuck to do! I-” Jungkook sobs with an aching pain on his side. “I didn’t know what to do!”

“Okay, Kook just calm down. Follow me into the coms room.” Upon arrival, Namjoon processes what had been said and his eyebrows furrow in reply. “Wait… His shirt? It was what?”

Jungkook makes an attempt to calm himself down, his rosy-tinted cheeks stained with wet tears. “Violet. It’s the last color on the spectrum.”

Namjoon shakes his head, now pacing back and forth. “This could only mean one thing…” He trails off, pondering the fact he discovered a new color on the spectrum. He scrolls through the portal and peers at the map, finding the different colors of the spectrum scattered across the city of Python. Every color except Violet.

“That’s why Thunder couldn’t pinpoint his location. Violet isn’t yet programmed into the software. Which means-”

“Firebird.” Jungkook slips.

Namjoon’s gaze snaps toward him with wide eyes, “Where did you get that name?”

“Viper said it. Firebird is looking for you.” He pauses, to let in a deep breath, “And you’d better get ready.” Jungkook groans in discomfort, a sharp shock of pain shooting through his side. He watches Namjoon’s figure, noticing the startled expression on his face.

No, it can’t be. There’s no way he was looking for him. Even if he was, why? After all this time, why now? And what was it that Namjoon had to prepare for?

And then everything came crashing down. “Shit,” Namjoon spills.

“Who is Firebird, anyway?” Jungkook questions with curiosity. A distinct chattering sound can be heard from Namjoon’s headset.

“Phoenix for Thunderbird! Do you copy?” Jimin chimes in with a slight tinge of frustration and worry clouding his being.

Ignoring Jungkook’s question, Namjoon places his headset back on.

“Go for Thunderbird.”

Jimin sighs in relief, “Oh, fuck. I thought I lost you for a sec.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “What’s going on?”

With a heaving, sweaty chest Jimin states, “We have a problem. A really, fucking, big one.” — his eyes keyed in and widening at the sight of what’s happening at the docks.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #houseofddaeng #btswritingcafe #mikrogalaxynet #ficswithluv #minthlynet #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #bts fluff #jungkook fluff

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 25

On the last night that Buster Collier was twenty-five, at Constance’s Santa Monica beach house, Buster got the drunkest he’d been in a long time. It was hard to say what he was out of sorts about. The melancholy seemed to have begun over the childish overalls he was wearing. All the men were wearing overalls, in fact, and the girls short pinafores with long legs all asparkle in shiny nude stockings. Jimmy and Bobby had been to a birthday party for little Thomasina Mix that afternoon at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre where all the guests were children, which had given Dutch the idea that everyone should dress like kids for Buster Collier’s birthday party. The sight of stout Peg Talmadge in a short frock with a big floppy bow on her head licking an oversized lollipop was one that he could have done the rest of his life without. But the overalls had reminded him of The Butcher Boy and he thought of Roscoe, who should have been here to enjoy the mindless merriment with everyone else. Sometimes he wondered how everyone could go on with their lives, forgetting all they owed him. 

Natalie was angry with him, so he was cooling his heels—literally—in the freezing surf of the Pacific Ocean. He struggled to remember what had gotten her so mad. He watched the water wash over his feet, which were ghost white in the light of the waning moon. They’d gone numb, but the sting of the icy water felt distant and not at all unbearable. He hummed a tune that the Henry Starr Orchestra had been playing. 

“Buster, get back inside.”

He looked up and saw Norma Talmadge heading toward him. She had a beaver-fur coat over her pinafore and her shiny black Mary Jane shoes sank into the wet sand. It was a raw night. 

“Where are your shoes and socks?” she said.

He shrugged. He’d definitely put them somewhere.

“You’ve upset Nate pretty bad.”

Indignation rankled him. “So?”

Norma fell into step beside him, just short of the licking tide. “It wasn’t a very nice thing to say.”

Buster’s head swam, but he still couldn’t remember what he’d said to make his wife so livid with him. “You’re wrecking your shoes,” he said.

“Buster,” said Norma. She tugged on his arm and stopped him. His hair had fallen forward into his eyes and she stroked it off. He closed his eyes, enjoying the touch. “Come back inside, please.”

“I don’t even remember what she’s all fussed about,” he admitted, opening his eyes again. 

“About Dutch and Buster?” she prompted.

“Oh, that’s right.” Now it came back to him. He’d made some loud remark about Buster Collier and Constance having an affair and Nate, seeing how many people were in the room to hear, pulled him aside to scold him in a quiet hiss for embarrassing her sister. He’d bawled something at her and stormed out. Neither Buster nor Constance had announced their affair yet, but it was fast becoming as obvious as Norma and Gil Roland’s. “Don’t see what the big deal is,” he said. “She’s throwing a whole damned party for him. Anyone with half an eye is gonna know what’s going on.”

“Yes, but you needn’t have been crass about it,” said Norma, frowning. Though she was just a year his senior, she had a comforting, authoritative air that sometimes made her feel as much his big sister as Natalie and Constance’s. He trusted and distrusted her in equal measures, same as he trusted and distrusted Dutch. The Talmadge sisters were fond of him, but he knew their loyalty to Natalie would always trump whatever affection they had for him.

He tried to remember why it had been so important to open his big fat mouth about Buster and Constance. He was on the verge of recalling, but the reason slithered out of his grasp. Instead, he looked down at his ghostly feet. He thought of Nelly and the lake. Only two days had passed since he had visited her at her apartment, but the memory felt years distant and like it belonged to another man. 

“Come inside. Come on,” said Norma, linking her arm with his. He fell clumsily against her, but righted himself.

The warmth of her fur-wrapped arm against his reminded him. That was it. Both Constance and Norma had now taken lovers and he had somehow ended up with the only sister who didn’t want anything to do with sex. The unfairness of it settled on him again, making him despair. 

“Apologize to Nate,” said Norma. “Make up with her.” She tugged his arm.

Buster dug his toes into the sand, resisting. His head spun with whiskey. “I don’t wanna.” 

“Don’t be childish,” she said. 

He pulled away, walking deeper into the ocean and wetting the cuffs of his overalls. “Why are you still married to Joe?” he said. “Why not marry Gil?” He didn’t expect her to answer since he was deliberately needling her, but her voice was as clear as a bell in the cold night air. 

“He’s young, isn’t he? Maybe he’s too young.”

“And Joe’s too damn old.” Farther in now, he felt shells beneath his feet. The tide hadn’t succeeded yet in washing them up on the beach. 

“Marriage isn’t always about love.” 

That remark made him stop his slow trudge into the water. As much as he had regarded Joe, still regarded him, Joe was balding, twenty years older than Norma, and far from handsome with his shapeless nose and drooping little mouth. That her marriage to him had been a business venture was an open secret. He was still surprised to hear her say it out loud. 

“I married for love,” he said, lifting his eyes to the moon. He stumbled, his head spinning. “Least I thought I did.”

“I think I see your shoes back there on that rock,” said Norma, closing the conversation.

He waded back toward the shoreline where, numb from the ankles down, he suddenly stumbled to his knees and vomited on the wet sand. When the hot clammy crawl of his flesh had faded and he’d spit the taste out of his mouth, he looked up to see Norma standing alongside him with his shoes and socks in one hand. “C’mon, Bus,” she said, holding out her other hand. “Go inside and make up.” Nelly bicycled down to Doc’s to get groceries on Sunday morning. Task accomplished, she strapped the bag with the eggs in the rear basket and put the other two bags in the front basket, then rode back up Fairfax Avenue, enjoying the warm breeze around her legs. She was thinking idly of the salad she was going to make when she got home, with chilled ham and hard-boiled eggs. The Circus was playing at the Fox Theatre a few blocks away, and she had the vague notion of treating herself to a matinee if she finished the salad and her sweeping.

Her heart hammered suddenly when she pushed her bicycle through the door of the apartment building; there was a man waiting around the corner at her front door. Before she knew what to do, he looked up at her.

It was only Buster. “God almighty, you scared me!” she said.

“Hello,” he said with a small, apologetic smile.

“What are you doing here?” she said, a familiar flush crawling over her skin as he leaned in and pecked the corner of her mouth. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He didn’t answer, but took her bicycle by the handles as she fumbled in her handbag for her key. “Thank you,” she said, pulling the key out. “Come on in.”

He walked the bicycle through the door for her and propped it against the sofa. “You are duty-bound to ignore any dust bunnies you see around here,” she gabbled, still caught off her guard. “I was going to sweep when I got home.” She grabbed the bag with the eggs and set it on the counter, and Buster followed obligingly with the other two bags. He turned to face her and it was only then she realized that he wasn’t himself. 

“Something the matter?” she said.

Buster shook his head, but he reached for her and enfolded her in his arms before she could get a chance to really study his face. She inhaled. He smelled clean, like aftershave and shampoo, but there was a sour undertone to his skin. Something was the matter, but she could tell he didn’t intend to elaborate. She stroked his back and buried her face in his neck. Another realization struck her: she’d missed him despite having seen him only three days ago. Desire also gnawed at her, but Buster didn’t seem to be in the mood, so she tried to set it aside.  

“I’m glad to see you,” she said, drawing back to kiss his cheek. 

Buster gave a half-hearted smile and stroked her cheek with a thumb. He leaned forward and kissed her, but it wasn’t a lingering kiss. 

“You’re not glum because of me, are you?” she said, insecurity getting the better of her. 

Buster shook his head. He smiled again in a tired way and kissed her. 

“You don’t have to tell me. As long as it’s not because of me. I was going to make a ham and egg salad. Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll put it together? You could help me with that darned LA Times crossword, too.”

“Alright.”

She began to unpack the groceries as Buster seated himself on the sofa. When he started to unlace his shoes, she relaxed. His unexpected appearance and strange mood were still mysteries that remained to be solved, but at least she hadn’t offended him. 

“I was thinking of going to see a matinee of The Circus. I can’t remember the last time I saw a Chaplin film,” she said. “Was the last one The Gold Rush? You know, I don’t even remember.”

“Last one was The Gold Rush,” Buster confirmed. “He’s lazy. The Gold Rush came out in ‘twenty-four. Imagine if I went four years between pictures.”

She glanced over and he was lying on the sofa on his back with the newspaper up to his face.  

“Have you seen The Circus yet?”

“Huh-uh.”

“What’s a bird of prey? It’s not hawk and it’s not eagle.”

“Down or across?”

“Down, I think.”

She set cans inside cabinets as Buster fell silent. She thought the small talk had failed, but—

“It’s falcon,” he said. 

“Oh. There were a couple others that were giving me trouble too,” she said. “There’s a ten-word Greek philosopher. Then there’s a clue that just says ‘a refrain.’ I have no idea what that one is.”

With the sacks unpacked, she folded them in half and set a pot of water to boil for the eggs. The silence with Buster was companionable and she hoped that the silly task of solving the crossword was taking his mind off of whatever was eating him. She began to dice the side of ham she’d left on the counter. “What’s a river in Russia?”

Buster didn’t reply. 

“Buster?” She looked back. He was fast asleep, head drooped to the side on the sofa pillow, the newspaper resting open on his midsection.

Nelly chopped more quietly, pitying him and wondering what the trouble was, whether he’d fought with his wife, was worried about his new picture, or vexed over something else altogether. She knew little at present about his day-to-day. At the cabin, most of his stories had been about gay parties, the outrageous things that guests had said and done when drunk, and his career in pictures. She felt like she knew Roscoe Arbuckle back to front now and every detail of what took place behind the scenes with Battling Butler to College, but not how Buster spent his time at the Villa. She could only imagine what his marriage was like. She was sure of just three things. One, he didn’t share a bed with his wife. Two, he wasn’t faithful to her and hadn’t been since at least last summer. Three, he seemed to believe they would be divorced in due time. She’d never forgotten his cynical remark about it the night of the party at the Villa when they’d been discussing Charlie Chaplin’s divorce. At the thought of Buster divorcing Natalie, Nelly clamped her mind closed. It was enough that he wanted her to be his mistress and sought out her company. She wouldn’t daydream about impossibilities.

The water in the pot boiled and she slid seven eggs into it, four for the salad, two for the dressing, and one for her breakfast tomorrow. Buster continued sleeping and she let him, glad that she could offer him some sort of respite. She washed the lettuce and softly shredded the leaves for the salad.

The eggs were cooling, the salad prepared, and Nelly curled in her armchair reading the latest issue of The Stage when Buster roused, asking in a voice thick with sleep, “What time is it?”

“Just after twelve o’clock,” she said, laying aside the magazine. 

He beckoned her with two fingers and she went to him, seating herself on the edge of the sofa. “Sorry I conked out on you,” he said, shading a yawn with his hand. 

“I didn’t mind,” said Nelly. “I think you must need the sleep.” She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. 

“Guess I must,” Buster said. His brown eyes still looked tired and a little distant, but he seemed more like himself. 

“Burning the candle at both ends?” she said, still clinging to his hand. 

He smiled. “Go ahead with your lecture.”

“Okay, I will. How much sleep do you get? You’ll wear yourself down and get ill.”

“Not as much as I should.”

Nelly pulled her legs onto the sofa and flipped around so that she was lying on top of Buster between his legs. She folded her arms across his chest, propping herself up, and he put his arms around her. His body was hard and muscled, all planes and angles. “You should get more sleep.”

“You know the last time I got any sleep worth a damn?” he said.

“No. When?”

“Those three nights with you. Slept like a baby.” He put a hand on the back of her neck and pushed, bringing her mouth down to his. 

“What are you saying?” she said, as a particular part of him twitched against her groin. 

He got serious for a moment. “Wish you could sleep over.”

“You could stay here. I wouldn’t mind, but my bed’s a little small.”

Buster shook his head, his mouth a line. “Missus expects me home at night.”

Even though she won’t let you share a bed with her. Nelly thought it, but wasn’t brave enough to say it aloud. So she said instead, “That’s too bad.”

“It is. I miss holding my Nellie Dean when I’m falling asleep.”

It was the tenderest and frankest thing he’d ever said to her, and hearing the words leave his lips, she knew beyond a doubt now that she was deeply in trouble. He’d won her heart, but his was not free to give. 

The thought evaporated as Buster’s mood turned from tender to ravenous. He began to pry at the buttons at her bodice and Nelly forgot her heart, knew only what her flesh wanted from him and was willing to give in return.

Notes: There actually was a party at Constance Talmadge’s on February 11th for Buster Collier’s birthday in which all the adults dressed as children. (The above image is reputed to be from Marion Davies’ New Year’s Eve party, so apparently costume parties where you dressed like kids were popular; there’s another image of the Talmadge women wearing kids’ clothing while posing with Peg, who appears to be on her deathbed, so it isn’t from the party in 1928.) Did Constance (”Dutch”) Talmadge have an affair with Buster Collier? Maybe. They seem to have been awful chummy around this time and I found an article from the period where they were rumored to have been engaged, though Constance denied it. I decided to run with it. The Gold Rush actually came out in 1925, but I thought it would be more realistic for Buster to get the date wrong. He did consider Chaplin lazy for the long gaps between his films. I don’t know why, but the section where Buster and Norma interact was one of my favorite scenes to write for this story so far. Other “pet” chapters include Chapter 5 and 6, and Chapter 13. Do you have any favorite chapters so far?

#Buster Keaton #Fan fiction #RPF #Actor RPF #Golden Age Hollywood #silent film

[enamoured-x]

for you i’d bleed myself dry

Poe Dameron x Reader

Part 3

Summary: Poe takes care of you at the end of the day when he notices you haven’t eaten. 

Warnings: Slight jealousy

*Not my gif

Word count: 2.3k

Part 3

When morning came, you were the first to wake up. You were surprised to find Poe still in bed, only he was facing you now, arm thrown around your waist, hand resting on your back. You swallowed hard as his face was right in front of yours. He was still sleeping and you didn’t want to wake him, so you just stared. His hair was a mess of curls on top of his head, his stubble coming through more than yesterday, and his lips pouted. Your feelings creeped back to the forefront of your mind. You allowed it for just a moment. Maybe you were a sadist, laying here with him in your arms, something so intimate, so damn close, yet you weren’t anything to him. At least not in the way you wanted. You felt that familiar pang in your heart at the thought and you shoved everything back into a box and locked it. 

BB-8 greeted you with a good morning and then told you he was supposed to wake up Poe now for breakfast and to get started on his daily tasks. 

“I got it, Beebs.” You whispered. But Poe stirred awake anyways. When his eyes opened, you smiled slightly. 

“Good morning.” He greeted you, voice husky and deep. Not taking his arm off you but scooting closer to you and closing his eyes again. 

“Good morning. You sleep well?” You didn’t hear him at night and you didn’t even feel so much as a stir. He opened his eyes again.

“Better than I ever have.” He said as he took your cheek in his palm. Staring at you in a way you couldn’t quite pin down. 

“I’m glad I could help.” You said and meant it. You wanted him to be happy. You didn’t like seeing him tired and sluggish. You didn’t like seeing anything but a smile on those lips of his. 

“You always know what I need.” You did. You knew him like the back of your hand but he knew you all the same. Sometimes you wondered how life brought you to Poe Dameron, he felt like your other half, that missing piece. And yet. And yet. 

His eyes flickered down to your lips but you were sure it was a fluke. And as he leaned forward you were sure it was just to get comfortable. Until his lips were barely grazing yours. You stilled, waiting for him. Your mind was running wild. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest. And just as you thought your lips were finally about to meet, there was a knock at the door. 

“Let’s go, commander!” Snap said knocking on the door and then walking away. You both leaned back, tension filling the room. 

BB-8 cursed Snap in quiet little chirps.

“Bee!” You scolded as Poe let out, “Buddy!”

He ignored you two with what sounded like a hmph. 

You laughed a little but then cleared your throat. There was no way you two were about to kiss. He wasn’t about to kiss you. But. But he was? 

“We should go.” You both needed to get breakfast before you started the day. 

“Yeah.” He nodded and then slid out of bed, you followed after him. You couldn’t help but glance briefly at his ass. You looked away before he could turn back around but BB-8 seemed to know what you were doing and spun in a circle making little noises, you were pretty sure the damn droid was laughing at you. You shook your head but a smile was playing on your lips at his behavior. If you didn’t know any better you were sure BB-8 wanted you two together.

You pulled on your clothes from yesterday as Poe started to change. 

“I’ll see you at breakfast, I’m going to put on some fresh clothes.” You told him as you made your way to the door. 

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly as his words and squeezed his shoulder.

“Anytime, Dameron.” 

You hadn’t gotten to see Poe that morning or afternoon, he had been called away to General Organa. You on the other hand, had still been tinkering with your x-wing. BB-8 once again helping you when you asked him for certain tools. He also made for good company. He was a sweet little thing and you loved him. 

You were tightening up a few screws when BB-8 chirped a few times. 

“Poe what?” You asked him as you moved out from underneath the ship. He made a few more noises and you turned to see what he was talking about. 

The camp was alive with everyone running around and chattering, loads of people were outside today as per usual. But you saw what BB-8 was referring to. 

Poe was talking to that blonde medic again. Laughing at something she said as she had an arm on his shoulder. You looked away. He was most definitely not trying to kiss you this morning. It was all in your damn head. You hated that you wanted to cry. You thought you had been so close. But in reality, you were still out of reach. 

“She’s pretty.” You said bitterly. Beebs chirped and nudged you, telling you that he thought you were even prettier. You laughed at the droid and gave him scratches. 

“Thanks, Beebs. At least someone appreciates me.” You joked and he nudged your leg once more. You couldn’t help yourself and spared another glance. Her hand was now rubbing at his chest and he was smiling at her. You looked away again, heart hurting something cruel. 

And even seeing them together like that, that night when he asked you to stay with him again, you did. 

-

It had been a grueling day for you to say the least. First off, Poe had left in the morning before you even woke. Waking up to an empty bed when you had gotten use to Poe just after two nights with him, well, it was unpleasant. And it had told you what kind of day it was going to be as you rolled out of bed already in a bad mood. To make matters worse, you got to breakfast late and got scraps of meat and stale bread. And then you were being pulled right and left to help with mechanical problems on a few starfighters and even helping out the other squadrons with problems they were having. Although most of the pilots in the resistance knew how to work with their aircraft, you were called to help more times than not because of your history with taking engineering and mechanics classes when you were in the academy. 

You were always willing to help but some pilots would stare you down like a hawk, making sure nothing happened to their precious x-wings. Your teammates in blacksquadron would sit back and let you do what you needed to do, they trusted you wholeheartedly so it was much more peaceful when you got to their ships and helped them with their problems. It was a long day of repairing coms, unjamming buttons and switches, and rewiring controls. You had even missed lunch. You had finished helping everyone else but you were distracted by helping Rey with the falcon that you didn't even realize that time had passed since Rey left for the day and you were still on board. You were not happy to see that you had missed lunch by a few hours and that dinner wasn’t until another couple hours. You didn’t even have BB-8 to keep you company as he was with Poe all day. You couldn’t really be mad there though, BB-8 did belong to Poe after all. And Poe. You hadn’t even seen a glimpse of him all day. 

Dusk started to set in as you took in the view from where you were seated on a rock, near a cliff. You weren’t too far away from camp, still able to hear them going about the rest of their day. Your stomach was growling and you were just counting down the minutes till the mess opened back up for dinner. 

“There you are.” You turned at the voice, Poe walking up with a smile on his face. Two trays of… food in his hands. He leaned down and placed a kiss to your head and then plopped down on the rock right next to you. All the tension and stress from today eased up a bit at seeing him. 

“Haven’t seen you all day.” He said and then handed you a tray. You just stared at the still steaming meat and warm bread in front of you. And the vibrant and juicy looking fruit. Your mouth started to water at the smell of it all. 

“What is this?” You asked him. He started to dig into the food on his tray. 

You were about to devour the food in front of you until he said, “dinner.” 

You looked at him, “dinner? Dinner isn’t served till another hour.” Honestly, you were surprised you were asking questions and not just taking the blessing for what it was. 

“Being commander has its perks.” He said, food in his cheek so he could talk. You gave him a pointed look. He may hold a high status but the cooks were not easy to charm and didn’t give a damn about who you were unless you were Leia. 

“Okay, so I might have lied and said the general needed two trays of food stat.” You let out a laugh and shook your head. Damn this man. Going this length for you because he found out you hadn’t eaten. 

“She’ll kill you if she finds out you used her name for this.” You said. And then you shoved your face. You didn’t notice that Poe was looking at you as you inhaled your food, barely stopping to breath. 

“Maybe but I couldn’t let you go on another second without eating. You shouldn’t have missed lunch, sweetheart.” His voice was stern but still soft as he spoke. Your cheeks burned under his gaze and at the fact that he was worried. He always was. 

“I know, I got distracted.” You offered in explanation and finished up the food on your plate. 

“Here, take my fruit.” He tried to hand you the bowl with his fruit but you shook your head. 

“No. You need to eat, Poe. I’m good.” 

“Just take it.” He placed the bowl on your tray and this time you let him, knowing he wasn’t going to let up. 

“Thanks, Poe. This was sweet of you. You will be thoroughly missed once Leia discovers the truth.” He laughed. You ate the starblossom fruit, thankful for more food in your belly. Thankful for Poe. Your day had quickly turned around with this little act, with Poe. He always knew how to make you feel better whether you were in a bad mood or just having a day. He always knew what to say and what to do. 

“Anything for you.” You wished his words wouldn’t sting as much as they made you feel giddy. So close yet so far away. 

You smiled at him and bit into your fruit to distract yourself from your racing heart. 

“You have a little something,” he motioned to your chin. You realized the juice from the fruit was trailing down your chin. Before you could wipe it away, Poe’s hand was reaching up. You stilled as his thumb swiped the juice, and then brought it to his mouth, sucking it off. The act so erotic and so soft at the same time. You didn’t know what to think, to say, to feel. You swallowed hard as his eyes stayed locked in on yours. His eyes trailed down your face to watch your tongue wet your lips. 

He reached his hand up to cup your cheek and you leaned into it like he had done a few nights ago. 

“I think…” He started, eyes searching yours, “I think you’re my favorite thing to look at.” 

Everything went quiet. Everything went still. You couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Because how were you on the receiving end of that sentence? On the receiving end of Poe’s admiration? You were surely dreaming. But you weren’t. You weren’t and Poe was looking at you in a way that you could only describe as longing. 

You finally found your words. The swirls of orange and pinks from the sky glowed on his tanned face, you were sure you were looking at a work of art as you took him in. 

“You’re my favorite thing to look at too.” You confessed. Appreciating the dips and hollows of his face as the sun started to disappear from sight. 

Moments passed but neither of you moved a muscle. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you two! Finn said–” And just like that, your moment shared with Poe was gone. You both quickly pulled away from one another, turning to see Rose, wide eyed and blushing. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I… We were just worried and I… well Finn–” She rambled and you stopped her. 

“It’s okay, Rose.” You told the girl. But you felt differently. You wished you could stay in that moment with Poe. All the grief and despair that you were all soon to face, all the pain you all had already faced, it was bearable, beatable, when you looked into Poe’s eyes. Everything had melted away. 

“Finn and Rey were looking for you two. They were just worried.” Rose said quietly, before backing away. 

“I’ll go and tell them you’re safe.” Is all she said before turning around and quickly walking away. You laughed lightly despite hating the interruption.

“Guess we should head back.” You told Poe, not wanting to make things awkward. Although right now, it seemed like that’s where this was headed. You both stood up and collected your things.

“Yeah, um…” He scratched the back of his neck and looked away before meeting your eyes again. 

“Are you… will you be staying with me tonight?” You smiled at his words, finding it adorable how nervous he was to ask you. 

“Yeah, if you want me to.” He nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

Taglist: @starrynite7114 @briannab1234 @imaginecrushes @benakenalove @springfox04 @beyoncesdragon

#poe dameron fic #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #sw #for you id bleed myself dry