#parejdolija

[motom1ya-blog]

❀ and ✿ !

Send me a ❀ for a fact about the muse and a ✿ for a fact about the mun.

❀ Daisuke is pretty ignorant, but by no means stupid.  Ignorance is bliss, ya know.

✿ Honestly, I’m not that interesting!  I got my first car at 19 and it’s a Saab 900 SE Turbo.  So that’s kind of cool?  And I don’t have a loan on it, so all mine.

[designohr-blog]

i want the k!!! again hehehhhehehe

13. A stomach kiss

im not even pretending here. hit under the cut

“you know, i don’t know that many with freckles.” he hums curiously, words at odds with actions, with position, with forrest divested of his shirt and taylor the same, with forrest leaning over taylor with a curious look in his eyes. “in fact, i would say you’re one of the only. certainly none of them have half as many as you do.”

curious fingers skim down soft skin, watching the muscles of his stomach tense and relax under the faint pressure. “i hadn’t expected them to stop, so suddenly. it’s so interesting.”

his kisses follow the line of his neck, the trail of freckles that stops. “they’re just gone.”

another pause, the soft touch of lips on skin not often exposed to the air, and forrest idly mouths at the stud in his stomach. his breath fans over the skin, “i certainly hadn’t expected this. i suppose you have a lot to teach me, still.”

[designohr-blog]

Oh. The man's - his wheelchair... (this word makes sense, he thinks. He's going to think of it this way, even if he doesn't know what it really is) - it's stuck. On a curb.

It's kind of painful to watch, especially given that no one seems interested in helping him at all. His inner medic takes over - the part of him that risked his own life to heal the injured and dying from bandits - and he makes his way over, carefully shoving his way through the crowd and fitting wherever he can, before making his way around so that he can look the other man in the face.

"Would you like any help? I'm sure these people aren't making it easy on you, constantly jostling you..." He bites his lip (just once. Only ever once.) and hesitates, not wanting to touch the man or his chair without permission. "I promise I won't steal you."

@parejdolija

[designohr-blog]

❤ OOO ONLY IF U WANNA!

The other young man talks. It’s incessant noise, filling his ears and overriding his thoughts until there’s nothing left, even though Forrest isn’t listening and hasn’t been for quite awhile; a prince, however, knows when to answer and how to make it appear as if he is listening, and Forrest abuses this.

In reality, Forrest is watching the way his face moves - the subtle shifts in expression, the wrinkle in his nose on occasion, the way it shifts around the constellation of freckles across his face. Whatever the man is saying may be interesting, but Forrest finds this far more so - it’s almost impulsive, when it happens.

He leans forward at a pause in the man’s speech, not rude enough to interrupt him mid word, and their lips come together just feather gently, the skin of them so soft it’s almost unreal. He is as careful, deliberate, and gentle with this kiss as he is with everything, despite the fact that it was unasked for, unplanned, and potentially not something Taylor was prepared for.

He pulls away slowly, giving Taylor bats of his long eyelashes, and presses a quick kiss, little more than a touch of lips to skin, to the tip of his nose.

[wolfbrutes-blog]

@parejdolija

                 『☪』→  Green eyes closed as Riven rested his chin on his hands, elbows firmly planted on the table before him as he settled on the bench. He’d spent the entire day running around as much of the city as he could get to, both on two legs and four, and now his feet ached something awful. By the end of his last shift, he’d left bloody pawprints with each step, the rough asphalt scraping through even the thick, fleshy pads on the bottom of his paws. Now the flesh was stripped from both his hands and feet, but the pain didn’t bother Riven quite so much. He’d bandaged both as well as he could, and now the soft texture of gauze slid across his cheeks as he rested. He would heal eventually (faster than most, at least) and for now he would simply endure. Most would call him foolish for pushing himself so hard, but for Riven getting home was an important thought. Not to mention that knowing your area was one of the first things the Russian mob had taught him when he had first joined them. And although he had left them behind, their lessons stayed with him.

           All this went through Riven’s head in the moments after he’d sat down at the picnic table, eyes closed against the glare of the setting sun. But, even without sight, he wasn’t helpless. The shapeshifter was entirely aware of his surroundings, and when an odd scent drifted towards him, he found himself turning his nose towards it. It was... cold. Sterile. Some small part of him almost thought it smelled like the stars. Wrinkling his bow, Riven slowly opened his eyes to search for the source of the scent. Which didn’t exactly take very long, considering it was sitting just down the bench from him. A few scoots to the side brought him right in front of the other boy, and a finger was quickly pointed his way.

           ❝ You... You smell weird. Did you know? ❞ Okay, maybe not the smoothest entry, but it better than nothing.

[morningglorias]

♬♬♬ – DEEP BREATHS, DEEP BREATHS. This is where she herself entered the Hive, and with rumors of newcomers about, she’s certain someone will come walking through those doors any minute now. With a small gift box cradled in both arms, she shuffles her feet and exhales deep breaths as she waits. Who will they be? What will they be like? Will they be human, or--

It seems just as she begins pondering the finer details, the doors slide open to herald a brand new citizen to the Hive. A jolt of life shivers up her spine, and at once the rabbit’s ears perk atop her head. Hurriedly she half-walks, half-runs across the street, the heels of her boots clattering noisily on the asphalt. “ Good evening! ” she calls out as she comes to a halt a foot away from the stranger, heart skipping a beat as she glimpses a better look of them.

The young man's human appearance brings her ears to fall back ever so slightly, yet she pushes through the spike of rising fear in the back of her throat. Holding out her box in offering to the other, lips curl into a timid smile. “ My name is... is Doctor Gloria Attlas, a-and I would like to welcome you to h-hi-Hive City! ”

@parejdolija