#:3 clay is happy. i promise

[lethalcontracts]

I love Clay's design.

I very much wanna hug clay, idc if it kills me!

Clay earns a hug for the hard work!

:)

#lethal company #cw:blood #clay answers #oc asks #clay would snap you in half and swing you around #:3 clay is happy. i promise

[suddeneclipse]

realised i never remembered to post this one, oops

triplets day out! 📸

#izzie will be fine. probably. #ANYWAY HAPPY TRIPLET TUESDAY 🖤🧡💙 #my art #art #artists on tumblr #my ocs #original character #oc art #ocs #alien oc #digital art #procreate #oc: charlotte harlow #oc: dr clay harlow #oc: isabelle harlow #(izzie i promise ill draw you more </3)

[lttawnymadison]

TGCF Revised Version Afterword by MXTX

Since I kept seeing snippets of this, I wanted to read the whole thing for myself. I'd already bought the book on JJWXC and did an MTL for this. It's so wonderful that she's back and sharing new things and that the revised is finally done! - Tawny --------------------------------------------- The author has something to say:

Seeing the small red clay stove again.

———— Afterword of "Heaven Official's Blessing" 2022

■ Finally done!

Long time no see! It's another afterword starting with "finally." Without further ado, seasoned readers would know that I make substantial revisions. For instance, scenes like the Bai Feng Mountain Hunt and the ending recognition of Sizhui in the serial version of "Mo Dao Zu Shi" were not originally there.

The revisions in "Heaven Official's Blessing" are the most extensive of all my works. It was a huge project, as it is also the longest in terms of length, serialized over eight months. Due to poor health and other reasons, the revision process was interrupted for a long time before I picked it up again, and it sporadically took about five to six months over several years.

In the era of web novels, there are endless new entertainments, and honestly, not many people re-read a story. Plus, some problems in the serialized version are structural and can't be changed, but I still tried my best to address my regrets. After all, when I was serializing it, I was almost always in a feverish and sick state, barely pushing through. Additionally, I often enjoy comparing different versions of my favorite authors' works back and forth, finding pleasure in the process. So, for readers, discovering "Wow, this part has changed!" is like starting a new journey with Easter eggs in a second round.

■ The new revised version includes about 100,000 words of new content!

These 100k words are mainly concentrated in the latter half of Volume 1 and Volume 3, but there are plenty scattered throughout the text. For example, I fulfilled a promise to A-Hua, giving him several new outfits. Seeing A-Hua dressed beautifully in a new hairstyle to meet his gege made me happy.

In terms of the intensity of revisions, personally, I feel it goes like this:

Volume 1 and Volume 2 > Volume 3 > Volume 5 > Volume 4.

Additionally, the new version cuts some redundant words and plots that weren't very meaningful. However, I tried to keep all the original interactions between Hua Lian as complete as possible. If some minor interactions are missing, they weren't deleted but moved around.

■ One day, I suddenly dug out something.

An antique from 2017, a folder called "Heaven Official's Blessing Setting Collection."

Curiously, I opened it and read with interest.

● Comparing the original setting outline and the main text, the highest fidelity is in the main storyline between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

A-Hua, restored at a ratio of 1:100.

Hua's character setting is the most detailed, and virtually every point made it into the main text, including details like "ghosts don't like the sun, so Hua Cheng sometimes drapes a red cloth over his head"...

Points not used, listed a few:

As a child:

· After being saved from falling off a city wall, he foolishly followed a parade over and over again, grabbing people to ask, "Who is that? Who is that person?" People told him, "That's the royal son, the future Celestial God, the most outstanding Crown Prince of Xianle Nation ever!"

(This point couldn't be used because in the text A-Hua was held in the Crown Prince's arms after being saved)

· At home, he was often punished to stand or kneel, not given food, and wore old clothes, accused of stealing money. Whenever he argued with his family, he would stubbornly sleep in the Prince's temple overnight.

· Went to Mount Tai Cang to volunteer sweeping red leaves at Huangji Observatory, just to sneak peeks at his future wife happily swinging.

After becoming the ghost king:

· One of his hobbies is buying and building houses everywhere.

· Very protective of his leather boots, would (badly) polish them until they shone.

· To other devout followers of Xie Lian, he said: "You have good taste."

· Secretly prepared many betrothal gifts for his beloved god, wanting to marry him!

The character setting of Xie Lian as a teacher in the serialized version compared to the initial draft, the serialized text subtly differs. The initial draft was more... exquisite and elegant, very serious. The serialized text is more... humorous. I think perhaps because some plot points were tragic, Xie Lian thought he should be happier to make the readers more relaxed, so he drove me to adjust his mental state! But due to the spiritual oppression at that time, the character's depth was not enough, while in the new revised version, I hope he can show a more self-content state on the same core basis.

Excerpts from the unused original setting:

· Super easy-going. Easy-going means: if given fifty bucks, he would happily dress in drag and dance. Accepts haggling. Thirty bucks works. Twenty bucks too!

· The observatory is small, the house is broken, wants to grow flowers. Leaks during rain, so he uses a bucket to catch rainwater.

· Because he can't afford a caretaker, he cleans himself, and also feeds chickens. Chickens eat flowers. Keeps a cat.

· Completely engrossed in discussing serious matters, he unknowingly finished all the broken sweet dumplings!

● Water, Earth, Wind original setting:

The highest fidelity is the main line between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, followed by the Water, Earth, Wind subplot.

The main conflict hasn't changed. Just... how could the original setting of Water, Earth, Wind be so dark and terrifying!

The character morals in the main text improved a lot, otherwise, the original Black Water would be sheer scheming + murderous! The ending for the Wind Master would have been more tragic.

The Venerable of Empty Words suddenly became an improvised character. It seemed like an ancient fable-like monster, making the main text more interesting than the original setting.

Overall, the formal version is a bit better written than the original draft.

● The unfortunate life of Lang Ying:

Lang Ying? Is there such a character? I don't remember!

Ah? It seems there was such a person, but I don't remember any of his plotlines.

This is most people's feeling towards the character of Lang Ying. It's not a delusion because he barely had any significant plot. In fact, any valuable scenes could have been replaced equivalently, so in the new revised version, I deleted this character.

But, in the 2017 setting collection, I suddenly found that I had actually opened a separate document for Lang Ying, and his role was defined as a "growing-type BOSS!"

I was silent.

And immediately opened the document, curious about my initial setting. A "growing-type BOSS," how did he become someone whose deletion went unnoticed...? (I even don't know how to address him!)

Who knows, perhaps out of excitement, I accidentally pressed the wrong shortcut, and somehow it became irreversible, leaving only an empty document for me to stare in disbelief. The once "growing-type BOSS" has now forever become a mystery!

This is the unfortunate life of the deleted Lang Ying.

· There was another document in the setting collection called "Swordsmith." I opened the document and read it with interest.

I was shocked. Because I completely forgot I had conceived this story. Why didn't I write it?!

Darn.

I know why I didn't write it. This story... it had no ending!

——————— Thus, the magical glimpse into the "Heaven Official's Blessing Setting Collection" concludes!

■ I like men with stories!

Maybe because I watched an outstanding work as a child. It was a memoir, the protagonist in the biography was gentle and affable, and the protagonist in the memories was cold and ruthless. The story was scattered with the poignant fragrance of white plum blossoms amidst bloody and stormy circumstances.

This almost perfect work deeply influenced my aesthetics, leading me to be most interested in the memory parts of characters in various works. Although many viewers prefer the present scenes, often asking when the memories will end, I actually find these intense and painful memories to be the most fascinating!

A story is the history of a character, as well as the key to their personality. A person with a story stands before me like a puzzle. The way to solve this puzzle is to understand their story. Because the biography makes one curious to know more about a character they like, loving them more now because of their past. When serializing "Heaven Official," my greatest pain initially was telling myself, "This time I don't want to write a memory slaughter," deliberately trying to avoid a structure similar to previous works, yet I still hadn't found a better way to express it, resulting in my deep dissatisfaction with the later part of Volume 1. I was also hesitant to fully commit to the memory scenes in Volume 2, and with the heavy mental burden, this part was very painful to write. When revising, looking at Volume 2 was almost unbearable, because I'm the type of person who, as a child, would immediately switch channels when a TV show's protagonist was about to be wrongfully accused or embarrassed. I couldn't help but knock on a friend's door and ask:

Me: Was the author suffering some kind of mental trauma at the time? This negative energy is too horrifying, the protagonist is so pitiful, I really admire anyone who could read through Volume 2 completely.

Friend: Do you even have the right to say that?

But the memory slaughter in Volume 4 was much freer, written in one breath, so the revisions for this volume were also the least.

So, will you still write large segments of memory slaughter?

Um, well, we'll see, haha, hehe...

■ Closing Remarks:

Lastly, I'll address the question some asked me, "Will the new revised 'Heaven Official's Blessing' be more torturous?"

Me: You're talking nonsense. 'Heaven Official's Blessing' is a sweet pampering story, thank you!

Acknowledgments:

Shi Nai'an wrote in the preface to "Water Margin": "On snowy nights, about five or six people listen to my storytelling; on rainy days, about seven or eight; on bright and sunny days, about ten. I read, everyone listens, and we are all happy, with no other thoughts." When I read this as a young person, I was delighted. What divine days! Writing first to entertain oneself, then to entertain others. Self-expression and self-acceptance are certainly primary, but the affection of others is also a significant positive feedback. Thus, first, I thank the steadfast readers who have accompanied me all this time. I've thought about just walking away amidst the noisy disputes; abandoning the account amidst the tumultuous world! It seems not bad. But looking back, I can't bear to leave some truly sincere readers.

I've had authors I liked disappear from the internet, and I always feel like a part of my youth has vanished, a feeling quite distressing, reminiscent of overly grand and harsh things like the tears of the era or the torrent of history. So, I want to accompany my readers as long as possible, hoping that the day of parting comes later. Perhaps I'm not good enough now, but I will strive to be better in the future. Or perhaps you've never truly understood what kind of person I am, or even completely misunderstood me, but as long as you genuinely like my stories, we can sit down and chat.

And, I must mention my friends, who can be described as having the courage of a hero. Long time no see, Teacher Changyang's illustrations are still as beautiful as those of a celestial being, I hope Teacher CAS can go to bed earlier and worry less, and Teacher Kuohao, who despite a heavy workload, still fully honored our agreement. The "Heaven Official's Blessing" radio drama is really fantastic! It reminded me of the original intention of writing this story, and I was very moved. If it weren't for the silent companionship and efforts of these old friends, Mo Xiang Tong Xiu might have stopped writing back in 2016, disappearing from the world of martial arts, and thus, "Heaven Official's Blessing" would not have been born. I look forward to retracing the paths we once walked together when gathering ideas. And many friends who reached out to help and encourage me, thank you for accompanying me through the snowy nights.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #hob #heaven official's blessing #墨香铜臭 #mxtx #mo xiang tong xiu #天官赐福 #tgcf revised version #mine

[secretpostsposts]

Do the brothers ever use their hair to care for branch or to protect, hug, pull him close etc. Since trolls can stretch their hair and stuff. If you think the brothers and or branch use their hair for other stuff I would love to hear I never see any head canons about the trolls hair

Yes they do, although it is instinctive at first.

When Branch was a baby he would be afraid of loud noises (because of the Bergens, and that), and he could have been very shy (because of the brothers being overprotective and the band's tactics), so the brothers learned to carry Branch with their hair when they heard a loud noise or they would hide it when someone unknown (or crazy fan) got too close to Branch.

leaving that the first time it happened, ironically it was Clay who did it, a Rock Troll approached to talk to Branch, Clay was next to Branch reading a book, so he only heard someone talking too loudly and approaching Branch violently (he didn't care). I wasn't going to do anything, I just have the idea that some Rock Trolls are very loud or somewhat violent in their movements, but this one wasn't being threatening), so the only thing Clay does is instinctively wrap his hair to cover Branch and hide him away. of Rock Troll.

Of course Clay apologized after that (not really) but the others had to promise not to do that again.

a few little canons about this:

Clay. -uses his hair to cover Branch, like a wall of hair around Branch -Currently he has to carry Branch holding him like a rag doll because Branch sometimes refuses to go places and he has to carry him. Bruce. -You know Branch usually sleeps in his hair, because it is big enough so that at least the 3 minors can fit inside Bruce's hair -Branch, although he doesn't admit it, he likes to hide in Bruce's hair (he does it in public, but mostly when he wants to go out, but not talk to anyone, it's a good arrangement for both of them) -She doesn't use his hair much, mostly she just lets Branch hide in it and she's happy with that. John Dory and Floyd -load it -hide it -carry it They do that and more, because it is no longer instinctive for them, it is necessary, because they do not want to share his brother. branch -finds this ridiculous and humiliating

#trolls #trolls band together #brozone #trolls brozone #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls floyd #beloved little brother #possessive brozone #possessive #branch #john dory #bruce #clay #floyd

[anakinskywalker97]

3 - The Rise of Skywalker

Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader

Chapter Three: Failure

Summary: Vader confronts his mother and gets to see how you've been living all these years.

Warnings: slow burn I promise I have all kinds of smut for this but I'm just too attached to them not to have plot.

Vader's mind swirled with dreams of Tatooine. He was with his mother again, not being eaten by death, or beaten by slave masters, just sitting and eating in the kitchen. When he woke up to the sound of kitchen sounds he was sad that he was on Tatooine, beside a kitchen, but his mother was lost. Obi-Wan had started on breakfast sounding more like a Summa-verminoth than a Jedi. He took a breath and tried to calm himself, feeling you drooling on his shoulder brought him back down. Out of curiosity, he dipped into your mind wondering if this new force bond would let him into your dreams.

You woke with a start hands gripping onto him tightly. Your eyes wide trying to find what was wrong.

Sorry - He said realizing his error. - Wanted to see what you were dreaming about.

Kriff - you laid back down on him and he listened as your heart hammered.- I thought you were warning me.

It was a fair assumption, there had been lots of times he’d had to wake you up that way and needed you ready to fight during the war. You continued to cling to him breathing the air off his skin as different sensation moving through you. Eventually, you let out a laugh at Obi-Wan’s clanking around in the kitchen.

“We're decent.�� You spoke out loud, the clanging lessened considerably.

“Breakfast is almost ready.” He called back. You got up and stretched, the bottom of your top exposing the flesh of your stomach. Your eyes caught him looking and you gave him a wide smile. You went to the bathroom and Vader went into the kitchen.

Obi-Wan had made himself quite a home. He moved gracefully around the small kitchen in his sleep clothes and an apron. Vader laughed at the sight. A genuine laugh, striking his own ears as strange. His former masker turned to look at him and he saw that he was even wearing a headband to keep his hair out of his face while sleeping. The tears forming in his eyes irritated them, but the sting wasn't enough to take away the pure hilarity of Obi-Wan’s state of undress.

Something misty moved into Obi-Wan’s presence as a sad smile formed on his face.

“That’s a sound I haven't heard since, oh gosh I would say the time Windu missed a step on the stairs to the chancellor's office.” He laughed at the memory of 13-year-old Anakin howling with laughter. The memory held the usual painful sting of the abuse suffered in that setting, but the memory made him continue to laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing to ever happen. Obi-Wan had to usher him out into an elevator because his voice was echoing around the main lobby.

Obi-Wan’s eyes held an emotion that Vader certainly could not handle. Obi-Wan knew this and turned back to the stove. Vader moved his attention to you. You had washed up and were starting to fold the blankets in the living room. He was going to get up when you called out to him.

Stay - So he did. It only took you a few minutes and he watched the sunlight pour in through the windows bathing the clay walls in light. It would be hot and hurt like hell. But being in the light surrounded by family made him happy.

______________

You watched Anakin closely. His moods seemed to be leveling out which was good. Other than his brief thought about murdering you and Obi-Wan he’d appeared to be coming down from whatever bullshit Palpatine had him cooked up on. Then there was the deeper truth of the situation eating you.

At his core, according to lore, Anakin was a Sith.

He was made by the Sith for the Sith. They willed him into existence, and the force chose his mother. The real question is, does that mean he’s incapable of choosing good? Is the dark side of the force really that separate from the light? You kept these observations and thoughts well hidden in your mind.

Hearing him laugh added years onto the end of your life. That laugh was so sweet, all the times you had been the cause you could remember as they were so rare. The laugh he gave Obi-Wan was a genuine laugh, careless and loud, completely different from the chuckle you could occasionally earn during the war.

The three of you ate together and discussed plans. Anakin wanted to see his mother’s grave before leaving. You took the ship over to the location and landed it. You stood at the edge of the ramp not wanting to intrude but also curious about what his beginnings looked like.

Stay here - he said firmly. Something was bothering him and you assumed it was the intense heat landing on his raw skin. Even fully covered it would hurt badly.

I will - you answered watching him walk out into the sand halfway and then stop. He turned back to look at you for a moment before his shoulders slumped slightly.

Come with me - His voice sounded frustrated and defeated at the same time. You moved out into the heat and walked through the sand. As soon as he reached you he pulled your hood up over your head. You had taken one of his fancy black robes from his ship and fully intended to never give it back. You walked a distance before you saw the little marker made of wood. It was freshly painted meaning someone here cared enough to maintain it. Surely that should improve his mood.

You looked out on the horizon while he knelt before his mother’s grave.

“I failed again.” He said simply. He put his hand in the sand and was quiet. “This is my former Padawan.” You came to stand beside him and sat down when you realised he was going to talk about you.

“Hi” You said softly, not entirely sure if you were supposed to speak or not.

“I let her down too, and Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan, and The Order. I said I wasnt going to mess it up again but I really messed it up this time.”

There was something about his voice that made you able to look at him and see who he was as a child. The rest of the things he said he did not speak out loud.

“She brought me back and this time, I’ll try to do it right.” He took a deep breath. “Here at the end of everything, I will get it right. I promise.”

You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed his hand.

“He’s in good hands. I won’t fail him again.” The words were heavy, but if she were here it’s exactly what you would have said to her. Anakin’s eyes were sharp on you for a long moment but you didn't break contact with the sand in front of you. You ran your fingers through it and you felt a feeling of hate wash over him. On instinct, your body prepared you for a fight.

Anakin reached over and you let him pull your hand away from the sand. You wondered if it was a customs thing. Before you could apologize he was saying goodbye and was pulling you along. You felt his force presence holding your hood up against the wind. Walking towards the sun, in the wind, through the sand was awful.

“I don’t want to be rude.” You called out against the wind. “But I really hate it here. The heat and light is one thing, but sand.” You groaned. “It’s fucking awful.”

Anakin barked out a laugh so sudden in made you jump.

“Trying living here.” He said in a happier mood.

“Only for you.” You said softly, unsure if he heard it in the wind.

____________________________________________

Vader inspected the road towards your apartment building. It was a seemingly alright area, it was late and this part of the city seemed to be asleep. The building was well-built and on the more expensive side of things. Good security. He followed you down the hall and held your bag while you looked for your keys. The door to your apartment opened and he hated how eager he was to see your space.

It was sparse but homey. A large note was stuck on your fridge. Bright red letters saying “CALL ME” You pulled it down and sighed. Your kitchen and living room were divided by a large island. A large balcony wrapped around the living room, something he wasn't too keen on. Sure you were on the 150th floor, but still. Sliding glass doors were unacceptable. His attention went back to the note posted on the fridge.

“Obi-Wan, the spare bedroom is on the right, the sheets are clean if you want to settle in.” Obi-Wan gave a nod and said goodnight. You turned to him. “Two options for you, I'm on the left or you can take the-” He had already started down the hallway to your room. He could hear your phone call form there as he looked around.

This looked more like what the inside of your mind felt like. Two large bookcases filled with worn paperbacks. You bed was a messy of blankets, quilts, and pillows. You had pictures on your wall and stuff cluttering the tops of your dressers.

“Hey.” He heard you say on the phone and listened in. He couldn't make out what the person on the end of the line was saying but they were shouting at you. He moved down the hallway into the kitchen. If you were in trouble he wanted to know about it.

“I know it was stupid.” You said pinching the bridge of your nose. You were leaning on the countertop. He picked you up by the hips and you made a sound of surprise. He turned you and sat you on the countertop. He stood between your legs giving you no personal space. “Sorry, it’s nothing.” You said hurriedly. He liked this game. His hands trailed up your thighs and he watched you squirm.

“How did you escape him?” A female voice asked. He assumed it was a friend by the concerned but angry tone.

“I didn't escape exactly - Look I sort of -” Your voice was nervous.

“Please tell me you didn't do something stupid.” He realized the voice on the other end of the phone was Ahsoka. He was surprised for a moment, then happy that your friendship had survived everything.

“No, I definitely did something stupid. But I’m home now, and I’m safe. We can figure everything else out later.”

“Just - Call me in the morning and don’t leave like that again.” She was angry with you.

“I’ll try not to.”

“Thank you. Now to go to sleep.” Ahsoka seemed happy with your apology.

“I will, I’ll give you all the details later. Just don’t tell anyone I’m back. I’m still sort of working on something.”

“Kriff.” Ahsoka sighed. “That’s never a good thing. Talk to you in the morning.” She hung up and you looked up at Vader.

“How is she?” He asked enjoying the way the kitchen light illuminated your eyes.

“She’s pissed. But other than that she’s doing well.” Your eyes were honest and he was happy. Knowing you were tired he picked you up and carried you to your room. He threw you down on the bed and started to properly snoop through your things. He’d hold up the odd item and you would tell him about the story behind it. Something you had picked up or been given as a gift on your many travels as a smuggler.

He opened your dresser drawer, curious to see what you normally wore. You were still in a rebel flight suit with one of his robes. Denim and cotton. No Jedi linens, however, your closet was full of long robes of varying thickness. He could feel you watching him, but he didn't care. He was enjoying himself too much. Your clothes were nice, soft, clean and well kept.

“What are you doing?” You finally asked sounding slightly exasperated.

“I’m not sure.” He answered honestly. He wanted to know how you were living, maybe wanted to see what his life could have been like. Perhaps he was trying to assess if he could see himself in the space long term. He let his guard down so you could have access to his emotions hoping it would be enough reassurance about his intentions. He was probably being creepy, but he had spent so much time thinking you were dead. To know you had been here occupying space, having things, friends, a ship of your own, a life without him. Suddenly he wanted to know everything, partially to ensure you were alright, the rest was purely selfish.

“Well, you can sift through my underwear till your heart's content. I’m gonna shower and get changed.” You said in a sleepy voice. He wanted nothing more than to shower with you but he knew with the state of his skin it wouldn't be a good idea. “I’ll get you re-bandaged after.”

You went into your attached bathroom and Vader followed. He leaned in the doorway and you smiled at him before taking your clothes off.

“I have a lot of things to catch up on.” He finally said while you turned the shower on. You got in and it was easier for him to open up, he shut the door and sat on the toilet. “I thought you were gone, but you have this whole life. Things, stories, plants” He thought of the cactus on your window sill. It was easier for him to breath with the damp hot air.

“Still not great with plants.” You said.

“Still, I missed out on the one thing I wanted.” The words threatened to crush him but he said them anyway. The one thing he wanted most of all he was told was gone, to find out it was happening without him… Hurt.

“You're here now aren't you?” You turned the shower off and grabbed a clean towel.

“I’m still not sure if I can come back from what I’ve done.” He answered and closed his eyes wanting to avoid your expression to this truth.

“If you leave me again, I’ll kill you. I'll drag you back here and end you” Your voice was serious and he looked over at you. Your hair was twisted up in the towel and you were wrapped in a thick pink bathrobe. He wanted to laugh, but your voice had a power to it he was unsure of. “See, now I’m the dark and possessive one.” You gave him a wide smile. “If you cheat on me though, I’ll hand you over to Ahsoka.”

The concept of cheating on you was completely alien. You had always been the first and last thing on his mind.

“Now get naked.” You commanded and pulled a first aid pack out from under the sink. He got undressed and was happy to see you had a heavy duty kit, while also being troubled as you opened it. It had seen heavy use and had lots of various tubs and jars added to it. You got to work on him and he relaxed letting you do it. You would win if he fought with you, and you were tired.

He let you tell him stories of various jobs you had done while the salve set. You bandaged him nicely. Moving back into your room he looked at the bed feeling unsure again.

“Will the air bother you if I open the window?”

“No.”

You opened it and the night air rushed into the room.

“Have you never had anyone attack through the windows?”

“No one would be that stupid.” You said easily pulling him down on his side of the bed

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #obi wan kenobi #darth vader #darth vader x reader

[year2000electronics]

Actually, I have a lot of questions about your Supernu-trollau.

1 does Bruce still have a family with Brandy?

2 does Branch get close to his brothers just because he wants to get to know them or also because of guilt for what his parents put them through?

3 When Clay decided to leave and find Branch was there any problem with that? I mean, he's one of the executives in hol'n fun and in charge of "boring stuff" like taxes or security. He certainly couldn't leave without some sort of instructions or promise that he'd be back.

4 will John ever have a will of his own? Or will he just do as he's told?

5 How much will the presence of Branch's older brothers change his zing? Will their antics and unusual behavior bother him?

6 How do the brothers feel about each other? Do any of them have a strong problem with John for doing their parents' bidding? Or maybe with Branch? Because he was the only one their parents really loved.

he does! vacay islanders LOOOVE him because he is an absolute PARTY ANIMAL, he loves pulling pranks and summoning drinks for them and stuff, brandy still falls for him because she knows despite his mischievous nature hes still a big softie on the inside!

his kids still exist, its just now theyre part-troll-part-vacay islander-part-imp :]

2. at first hes just trying to keep them out of trouble and protect pop village, but i feel like he actually ends up really happy that he had secret brothers cos he lost the rest of his family!

3. CLAY WOULD NEVER LEAVE VIVA ALONE LIKE THAT!! he found out about branch and like, it was almost like the scene in tbt where clay tells viva "i dont wanna lose my brother either" cos at this time viva probably still thinks poppy is dead... she'd understand that if there was even a CHANCE clay might be able to find this new baby brother and try to introduce himself, hed take it, just like she would go search for her sister (i dont have viva solidified just yet but im thinking either she comes along with clay, OR clay promises to bring poppy to her if he finds her, i definitely want viva to show up at some point, maybe all the bros can visit the putt putt trolls haha)

4. thats what his whole arc is gonna be about i think!! he obviously cares about his brothers a lot besides trying to get the BOY BAND back together, its like jd's canon arc of accepting that he doesnt need to be perfect except like. cranked up to 100. where he doesnt have to make other people happy he can make himself happy and do things for his own sake!!

5. HES GONNA BE REAL SCARED AT FIRST cos in this au its not like everyone in every kingdom is SUDDENLY supernatural, its only a few trolls! some trolls dont even think the supernatural is real but branch was probably raised as the superstitious type so hes always on the look out for what if monsters were real... imagine his surprise when he finds out that monsters ARE real and those monsters are his BROTHERS

6. i think the brothers like each other but not enough that they ran off together or anything! cos they were all in the same situation with their parents but they were each also the only monsters of their kind they knew, so i imagine all of them wanted to find a place for themselves

floyd and bruce probably get along REALLY well

i feel like the brothers kinda pity jd a little bit, jd really thought his parents were sweet people who loved all their kids- he wholeheartedly believes in them in a way the others don't, so all they can do is shake their heads and go "poor guy"

bruce might have wanted to get back at branch if it was a different situation, but now that hes a dad, he knows how important it is to look out for your family, so he goes to find branch because he wants to make friends with him... but cos hes an older brother as well as an imp that manifests in the form of teasing and playing tricks on him haha

i think floyd would be a little jealous of branch

#mothra answers #trolls #superna-troll au

[el-buzz]

“You tried your best” :) <3

A Cg! Clay x Agere! Reader fic

Summary: Reader has is upset after going a social gathering and Clay helps them to calm down

(y'all I need happy fanfic ideas ☠️😭 )

1.6k+ words :]!!

And as always will be crossposted on AO3 at Soft_Buzz and not proofread. Enjoy :D!!

So let's say you had wanted to get out of your bubble for once. Expand and experience something new!! Something out of your comfort zone. Ok so maybe sitting in a room full of strangers for more than three hours while they talk about things you didn't particularly like or care about was not the best idea. Yeah yeah you could've easily opted out but you'd made a promise of attending, so you couldn't just not show up right??? 

So you sat there. For exactly three hours and thirty three minutes. Completely feeling out of place and alone. You wanted to talk. Of course you did! But everyone seemed to know each other, and it was just plain scary. You swore you stuck out like sore thumb at the gathering, but fine whatever it was over now. You were fine. Totally and utterly fine.

It's okay. Yeah you were already in front of your pod so it's okay. It's okay.. so why were you tearing up and having difficulty breathing. No matter, you quietly walk in and find Clay relaxing on the couch while reading a book. It's only your sniffling that reels him out of his book.

"Hey?" Clay looked up, placing a bookmark and putting the book down on the coffee table. He frowned, noticing your appearance and the tears now flowing down your cheeks. He rapidly stood up, moving towards you and gently wrapping you in his arms, trying to make you comfortable. "Shh, shh. Calm down. You're alright now." He moved the both of you back onto the couch.

That was it. You weren't fine, and you knew it. You let your walls down and start to sob just fully breaking down. "No I'm not okay! I- I'm so done I'm absolutely done I don't even know why I thought it would be good idea to go to the stupid gathering I don't even care about-" You whine and wipe my tears. "I just wanted to socialize but clearly that didn't go well at all." Sobbing, you tugged uncomfortably at you clothes.

"Hey, hey!" Clay's firm but gentle voice tried to calm you down. "Slow down, slow down."

It was clear you were overwhelmed. So he just held you, comforting you. He pulled you close to him and let you rest your body on top of his.

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. You did a very brave thing today by talking to a bunch of strangers. But... I think you've reached your socializing limit." He smiled down at you as he caressed your face.

It broke his heart seeing you like this. He knew just how much you wanted to be out there socializing and making friends, but poor you either got drained easily or felt completely out of place. Although you have him now, he saw it best that you found others to be around. Clay admired your efforts and was patient and understanding when you had a rough moment.

"Don't speak anymore, ok?" His voice had a soothing effect. "You did your best. That's not nothing, so just rest, now.. ." He ends his sentence with a kiss between your brows.

You just stay quiet while leaning into his warm touch. His warm and comfortable touch that seemed to clear all the stormy clouds in your head. Still, you  feel out the last of the storm. You wanted to say something, but your overwhelming feelings made you too tired to talk or function. So, you just whine and tighten your hold on him.

"I know, baby, I know." His hands softly caressed your back. "I'm guessing you want some small time, don't you? Hm?" Clay looks down at you already knowing what choice you'd make.

You nod still sniffling and rub your tear stains. He couldn't help to softly smile when you looked up at him. His poor baby, so small and so drained. Maybe a babas and a nap would be best for right now.

"How about I make you some hot coco and then you can take a short nap, hm? Sounds nice, doesn't it?"

Clay asked, trying to keep his tone light and cheery as he got off the couch with you at his hip. Once you nodded again, he started heading over to the kitchen.

While Clay was focused on swiftly on preparing the hot coco, you rested your head on his shoulder and began to suck your thumb. "Oh no no, baby. Thumb's icky, remember?" He reached to remove your thumb and you fussed and whined. Clay lightly bounced you in attempt to calm you down. Quickly, while the coco heated up, he found one of your clean pacifiers in a kitchen drawer. "Found one!" He removed the pacifier cover and placed the paci into your mouth. The action soon soothed you, and you began to relax in his arms once more.

You were about to nod off in his arms when clay nudged you, took the pacifier from your mouth, and gave you a baby bottle with the hot coco. You whined while rubbing your sleepy eyes, and started to drink from your babas. The sweet cocoa was warm and wonderful. Although it wasn't often that Clay made you sugary drinks like the coco, man was he was good at it. You were about to drink a lot of it in one go, but Clay was quick to catch on.

He tugged a little on the bottle. "Hey now.. I know you really like your hot coco, buuut we don't want you with an upset tummy, do we?" You respond by shaking your head with him. "Good, baby" He smiles warmly wipes off a bit of the milk that spilt past your mouth. "Such a small little one, aren't you?" He coos while squishing your cheeks. A smile began to shine on your face, and you squirm so happy to be babied right now. You reach for his hand, and he takes yours, quickly interlocking your fingers and letting his head rest on yours. It was sweet innocent moments like these where you and Clay relished the comfort and warmth of the other.

Clay started to readjust his hold on you, so he could help you drink from your bottle. He looked down at you, and he was dazed. You were looking up at him, and your eyes seemed to shine with admiration and wonder. Clay had to admit, the sight was completely adorable. He gave the bottle another few gentle squeezes as he kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn't spill any milk on yourself.

He started to move towards your bedroom where he leaned over to gently lay you down on the bed and began get you ready for a nap. He made sure that you were in comfortable clothes and that you had your favorite stuffie in your arms. Turning away from you, clay turned off the lights. A single lamp and nightlight shone in the now dark room as Clay started to tuck you in.

"Just rest." He said, stroking your hair. "You did something difficult today, and you need to rest."

He pulled the blanket up until you were completely covered. "Now, just take a nap. I'll wake you up for dinner and a bath, okay?" As he started to stand, he paused, and bent down to kiss you one more time. "Sweet dreams. I love you."

He begins to reach the door but you call out to him tiredly. "Clay?.." You rub your eyes while yawning.

"Yeah?" He stops at the door look back at you.

"Can I has story?.. pretty please?"

Clay chuckled softly and started to approach your bedside and held your hand. "Of course you can. Do you have one you'd like to hear? Or would you rather I make one up?" He traced your hand patiently while waited for your response.

“Book,” you utter as you point at area where you keep your children’s books.

Clay smiled and approached the bookshelf. He looked at the titles, wondering which one you would prefer. After a bit of thought, he selected a one for you. Clay moved towards you and sat down next to you, pulling himself up to your side. You quickly snuggled up to him

"Looke here, I got you a classic: Goodnight Moon, one of my favorites when I was a kid."

He cleared his throat before reading to you in a soothing voice, holding your hand as you relaxed.

"In the great green room, there was a telephone." You felt your eyelids began to get heavy, snuggling under your blanket and listening to Clay.

You tried last best as you could to follow along with him, by pointing to the little kitties and the mousy. You even offered to read a couple of words, albeit tired and a bit slurred.

Clay praised you for doing so good and being such a great little reader. He loved seeing you smile and babble at the illustrations, reading to you was his favorite thing to do with you. Clay smiled sweetly when you babbled and pointed along with the story. He pulled you closer to him as he read the story, his voice quiet and soothing.

By the time you both finished the book, you were already half asleep. Carefully, trying not to wake you, he got out of bed and tucked you in once more. He caressed you face one final time and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Before walking out of the room, he whispers to you. "You know you did you're best today, right? and sometimes that the most wonderful thing you could ever do." All he gets in response is some light snoring. He chuckles and walks out.

Author’s note:

Had to write this after I went to an overwhelming social gathering like two weeks ago but I never really got around to finish it until now

It's a lot shorter than the last one but I hope you still enjoyed it :]

Also thank you so much to those who liked, reblogged, and commented on my last posts!!! It makes me ecstatic to see others enjoy what I write

Y'all got me kicking my feet and everything lmao 😭💀

Me when I see notifications coming in:

#another fanfic that I write instead of a college paper #seriously it wasn't until the day that I had to turn in my midterm essay that I decided to work on this ☠️😭😭 #trolls 3 #clay #clay x reader #agere #trolls agere

[yowyowyaoi]

Sasori’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Tobi/Obito

Obviously.

You can gloat all you want but the fact of the matter is you’re wrong; NOTHING is eternal. 

But can you keep it up without chakra strings? 🤔

Asleep or awake it’s all the same thing.

Go ahead and tell them. They’ll just think you’re crazy 😜 

I’ve tried but Hidan is insufferable and the only way to truly hurt Kakuzu is in his wallet.

Ok please just look at this tooth I feel like it’s throbbing out of my head 😣

Me and you? Teaming up? What a novel idea … REJECTED.

It’s not ridiculous. When you were human did you never just eat a bag of sugar?? It’s so soothing.

He said no cats or dogs. Not a thing about birds. And besides if Itachi can have 900 crows I can have a parakeet. 😤

From Zetsu

I don’t know why YOU get to keep all the best bodies every single time 😒 Your art isn’t more important as my stomach.

I licked his arm once but my goodness he had such a bitter aftertaste.

Clay and gunpowder. Sometimes aftershave.

It wasn’t me this time. Must have been an animal. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Me either! No Bowel Movement Club 🥳

I imagine it’s only the first blow that truly hurts. After that the body goes into too much shock to register the pain. 

From Nagato

Well I figured that with your expertise in puppet chakra control, my bodies wouldn’t be that much different to you.

Redhead unity ✊🏻

Let’s be real, here; Konan is the one running this thing.

I can if it’s cut into very small pieces. And drink lots of water afterwards.

At least yours wasn’t a goddamned pervert.

Clearly I can’t stop these things. All I can do is strongly advise you three use protection with them. Our organization is not equipped to care for babies.

I’ve never really had time to properly train it. I’ve never even heard that much about it before. Maybe Itachi will know.

Yes but I firmly believe we choose our families. And I chose this one. Even Hidan.

From Konan

No, thank you. I’ve learned to appreciate my flaws and live with them.

Okay once again, PLEASE read that book I got you on how to talk to women. For the love of God. 🤦‍♀️

Actually most of them make me sneeze; that’s why I started making paper ones lol 

Of course I can teach you. Why do you want to learn? So you can dance with a certain someone 😏

Yeah, preferably one that’ll give me a pick-up in the mornings.

If you use your chakra strings to make him trip down the stairs I will love you for forever.

I know you don’t eat but you should come for the conversations.

I know he’s been using mine the bottle was full 3 days ago and now it’s almost empty 😡

From Kisame

Itachi and I are traveling past there on our next mission. If you write down what herbs you need I’d be happy to pick them up for you on our way back.

I’m sorry; if I’d known you wanted to use the body I wouldn’t have chewed off the hands 😣

Well I suppose both have caffeine but to me, tea is more calming.

I understand but if it happens again, tell him I won’t be looking the other way. 

I don’t know. If he’s not sleepwalking he’s up for days at a time. I’m worn out trying to keep up 🫠

Please join us; Monopoly seems like it’d be your game.

I stayed until they wanted to do karaoke. Then I snuck out the back door.

That’s more Zetsu’s thing. I only do it if I’m really hungry.

Ah but, if you’re truly going to live forever, why not have some fun with life?

Yes I’ve noticed. Everyone has. But I’m fairly certain Deidara sees nobody but YOU in that way.

From Itachi

My thanks.

Not so bad today actually 

I would just say “ignore it” but he’ll probably throw a bomb into your face so 🤷🏻‍♂️

Well I was going to paint it yellow so it’d be more cheerful but Kisame thinks it would drive me crazy after a few weeks.

Watch the video I just sent and tell me that’s not Hidan 😂

Kisame said to ask you two. Tell Dei they have bakudan.

They just like to sit on top of them. I promise they aren’t pecking or causing any damage to the wood.

One of the funniest things I ever read. Laughed so hard I had to go to bed early because my head was pounding so hard after. But don’t tell Hidan, he’d kill me.

I’m not sure. But after I die you’re free to take one of my eyes and put it into your puppet to see.

From Hidan

No really DO you have one? 🤔

Wtf are you gonna do tho like won’t you catch on fire in the sun?!

He’s my best friend and I love him in a not gay way. So it IS my business asshole.

Thanks puppet dick, I’ll make Kakuzu pay you later. He prob won’t but 🤷🏼‍♂️

No fuck that, that cake was MINE they’re just being little bitches about it 

Damn could you be any gayer for him?

Wait, CAN you fly??

Stop being stingy puppet fuck just give me an arm that shoots fire it’ll be an early birthday present pleeeeease 

Idc get this thing out of my room it’s creeping me tf out 😒

From Kakuzu

I’ve tried but the only way I could see it legitimately working is if I sewed his mouth shut.

Oh of course. I’m always happy to spend an evening surrounded by culture.

That would be ideal but you know how sensitive Leader is about his appearance.

Yes but it’s the most expensive there. You’d be better off disguising yourself and getting it from your old village.

Honestly, at 91? I’m surprised it hasn’t turned to dust yet.

Perhaps Kisame would join us. Give us an evening away from the wives.

I know but what else could we do? He refuses to accept treatment. The only way we could “help” is slipping it into his tea.

Page 34. I wrote notes along the side of the diagram.

I would rip out all of my hearts before I let anyone, including you, spend money on something like that.

From Deidara

No but I’m pretty sure you enjoy making me beg.

Wasn’t me. And you can’t prove otherwise 😈

Your lack of appreciation for my art is truly the most horrible thing about you 😒

Well tough shit it’s MY turn to choose and that’s what we’re doing

Well yeah it’s awkward but I don’t want you worrying. I’m *yours*. I’ve made that clear.

Idc I’ll wear it every single day 😭

If Itachi or Kisame asks, me and Hidan were with you from 12-5 yesterday. Okay?

Keep sending pics like that and you’re gonna end me 🥵

Oh come on pleeeease? I’ll feed it and walk it and everything!

My bed or yours? 

Did you make it yourself?? Awww thank you Sasori 🥰

It’s not the only thing that’s tight ~ 😏

A real boyfriend wouldn’t question it he’d just bring a shoe and come kill it !

Hey at least I found BOTH arms this time!

Geez that sounds so boring. Can’t he send Kakuzu and Hidan instead?!

You know I hate that word … but yes, forever. And ever and ever and ever. 💛

#the akatsuki #texting #text message #sasori #sasodei #sasori x deidara #deidara #kakuzu #hidan #itachi uchiha #tobi #obito uchiha #nagato #konan #kisame hoshigaki #zetsu #Akatsuki Daily Texts Series

[writerpey]

Hiiii!! Though you haven’t been around long, you’re one of my favorite headcanon writers on tumblr! Could I request a Caregiver!Stede Bonnet with reader if you have time? Your work is incredible :’)

hello dearie! that is so so kind of you! <3 stede is one of my favourite cgs to headcanon ever! hope u enjoy (I almost wanted to title this one in cursive because it’s so him)

Caregiver!Stede Bonnet x Little!Reader Headcanons

He is absolutely the type of cg to make everything as fun as possible. You want to play hide and seek? He’s creating an elaborate story to go alongside it with mermaids and pirate treasure. You ask him to do a craft? You better believe he’s sent one of the crew to shore to fetch clay and paints.

Speaking of crafts, he’ll literally display or wear anything and everything you make him while regressed. In fact, he urges you to seek out any creativity you do or don’t have! Once you wanted to make him an outfit, so you stole away to his secret closet (one of your favourite places on the whole ship) and splattered crimson paint all over one of his white, frilly shirts. When you brought it to him with a proud look on your face, he gasped and picked you up, twirling both you and the shirt around. I love it! You are so talented, little one. He wore the shirt every day for the next week, even when you weren’t regressed.

Because he comes from a very humble background (total sarcasm applicable here), Stede has mastered the art of comfort, as he likes to call it with a grand gesture. (Not to be confused with the… other art, he once said.) You can bet you’ll never be uncomfortable when you’re around him, physically or emotionally. Squirmy baby that just can’t sleep? Well, of course Stede has an answer for that. He’ll take you by the hand and lead you to his closet, letting you pick any item of clothing that has the most comfortable texture for little you. He’ll offer you hot tea or warm milk, and he loves nothing more than bringing a cup to your lips and helping you drink while you rest your head against his chest.

Stede is also a huge fan of bedtime stories. Apart from his tales to the crew, he loves adding a dramatic bit of theatre to your bedtime routine. He tailors his stories exactly to your mood, softening his voice and letting the sound of water hitting the hull of the ship lull you to sleep, or entertaining you with an hour long epic about the adventures of Blackbeard.

Oh, he’s so incredibly in tune with your emotional needs. He rarely falters in his ability to understand what you need, and he’s able to immediately tell how old you’re feeling just by being in your presence. Feeling smaller today, darling? That’s quite alright. I’ll be right here with you.

He frequently encourages you to play with the other crew members when you’re little as well. He’ll spot you watching Frenchie play music and will take you by the hand to sit with the other, smiling proudly when you let go and clap along to Frenchie’s music happily.

Playtime is always the best time with Stede, although sometimes he can get carried away. Once during hide and seek he jumped out and startled you so bad you burst into tears on the spot. He’s very quick to apologize and soothe your ailments, wiping your tears from your cheeks and promising you a treat from below deck.

Stede will always make sure you’re a happy baby, and if not, he’s always at his best when comforting and understanding your little side.

<3

#ofmd #ofmd fanfic #ofmd agere #stede bonnet #cg stede bonnet #sfw agere #sfw agere fic #stede bonnet headcanons #little!reader #agere fic #our flag means death #our flag means death fic #stede bonnet & reader

[sarilolla]

So ghost anon got me thinking…

What would happen if Floyd was the only one who couldn’t get to branch in time? I mean he was the only brother to say goodbye and promise to return, but ironically he is also the only one to not meet branch before he passes. I have a feeling that the guilt of never being able to fulfil his promise would tear him apart :3

Hopefully I won’t regret giving u a weapon to rip my heart out (who am I kidding, do as u please with this)

OW? OUCH? I got this ask while I was writing the fight and just oof, it hurt- Thank you for giving me this weapon >:)

Going to turn this into a ficlet, haven't done one of those in a while

***

Branch knew it was unlikely that all four of his brothers would get there on time. The world was big and who knew where four small Trolls could have ended up after twenty years. Laying in bed, he blinked in and out of consciousness, his chest heavy and barely any air managed to get to his lungs. Poppy was by his side, holding his paw tightly, not wanting to let go.

To his surprise, John Dory was the first to arrive. The oldest almost looked grey as he looked at his baby brother, who was resting on death's doorstep. With a push from Delta, he walked into the room, sitting down on a chair on his side. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, not until Barb had pulled Poppy out of the room. The two brothers needed a moment.

"I'm so sorry, Bittie, I… I'm sorry. I should have been there for you, but I wasn't, and…"

Branch took his paw, the younger being so weak, but he needed JD to listen.

"Love you."

His voice was broken and small, but to his surprise, JD started tearing up.

"I love you too. So much. You're my baby brother, and I'm sorry…"

This went on for a while, as Branch's lungs cleared just a bit, and he asked if JD could tell him about the Neverglades, which he did, drying his tears. He hadn't felt this vulnerable in a long time, but for Branch? He would probably beg the Muses themselves for his life to be spared.

Then came Clay. He came inside on his own, Synth and Dante pointing him to the right room. He was shocked, to say the least, that JD was there, and for a moment, all he felt was anger and grief. After a small spat, he calmed down as Branch's tail brushed his own. Right, Branch. They were there for Branch. Their little brother, who was dying.

After a few exchanged words filled with love, both the Iris and Dahlia were cleared from his system, and he breathed just a tiny bit easier, enough that if he had just a bit more energy, he would have been able to hold a conversation. But he didn't, so the two older held it for him, despite their awkwardness and grievances, they were there and they were talking.

Finally, Spruce came. Except it was now Bruce, and he had changed a lot, but he was their brother nevertheless, and while Branch could tell the tension swung a bit in the room, happiness, anger, and grief hanging heavy in the air, he was happy to see another of his loved ones. Just a few hours ago he had almost accepted death, not believing they would come on time, but here three of them were.

JD gave up his spot for Bruce, letting him take Branch's paw, the purple-haired Troll speaking so softly with the youngest, who hummed an "I love you too" in reply. The Zinnia lost its grip, and now… they only had the Queen Anne's Lace left.

But would Floyd get there on time?

---

Floyd had already left Mount Rageous days before, having heard the news on his small traveling radio, and narrowly avoiding being kidnapped, he set out to find his baby brother.

He had made a promise. It was maybe twenty years too late, but Floyd was not one to break a promise. Not now, not ever.

Then he learned that the promise had been put on a timer. Friends of Branch, bounty hunters, had found him, telling him what was going on.

Branch was dying. Branch could be dead already.

They didn't need to tell him twice that he was needed. He just sat silently in the back of their critter bus, eyes distant as memories played on a loop.

Seeing that little bluebell egg hatching. Holding that little baby boy that had been filled with so much joy, love, and music.

Branch was singing before he was talking, he danced before he could walk. He was the sunshine breaking through the grey clouds of grief and horror in that period of their lives.

And he had left him behind. He had given the toddler his vest. The vest had belonged to all their brothers once, and if there was someone who deserved the comfort that the vest provided, it was Branch.

When he came to Pop Village, the place was… sad. Too sad to be filled with Pop Trolls. He saw a grey Troll with a crown on her head sit amongst a group of other dully colored Trolls, her grief so strong it nearly drowned everyone seeing her.

No one noticed him as he walked through the village, and when he asked someone where Branch was, they just shook their head, a sad look in their eyes. Another Troll pointed him to the outskirts of the village.

Floyd had heard from the youngest friends that he had built a bunker, and with a small spark of hope, he looked in the direction they pointed, hoping to see that large rock, but no… There was a field of flowers there.

A Pop Troll graveyard.

And by the freshest mound, holding onto each other, sat three Trolls who were painfully familiar. His brothers. Just not all four of them. Only the three oldest.

A pained scream filled the air.

Floyd's scream.

He had broken his promise.

***

Yeah, ow, this hurt- Hope everyone enjoys the misery as always :,D

#dreamworks trolls #dreamworks trolls fic #hanahaki branch #answered asks #sarilolla's writing

[molly-knew-things]

The Real Heartbreak of Beauregard Lionett

(CW: Mentions of Childhood Abuse & Gaslighting)

So, I think you can tell from the content warning what I'm about today.

I hate talking about the sad shit because the Critter Community is one of the funniest, loveliest communities that I consider myself a part of.

But, I made the mistake of going into the YouTube comments section on a particular compilation of Beau moments. So, I thought I'd scream into a megaphone at my followers and mutuals about how upset I am.

Going under the cut so you're not seeing anything you're not feeling!

Take care of yourselves, Critters, and don't forget to love each other!

I've seen too many comments in this comment section trying to excuse Thoreau's behaviour. Trying to justify that Beau being "sent" to the Cobalt Soul was the best thing for her.

I just want to make something real clear...

SHE WAS FUCKING KIDNAPPED

AND HER FATHER PAID MONEY TO MAKE IT HAPPEN.

This wasn't a child acting out, who was just getting sent to a military school.

Thoreau had Beau's entire childhood to try and be a good father. He had her locked up in that house for god knows how long, he could have fucking tried.

But did he? No. The second he found out his wife was pregnant, he arranged for his young adult daughter - who was hurt and hurting, and making all the wrong decisions because of it - to be fucking abducted.

A man so obsessed with keeping what "belongs to him," ramped up to 100 with the excuse of superstition to back it,

(I know that this was his side of the bargain to the Hag, even thought he didn't know it. I acknowledge that, but that's besides the point.)

that he locked his family away and forced so many unfair expectations and restrictions on his child with none of the love and care that a child needs to thrive because she wasn't the 'young beau' he was expecting from his deal.

And people are in this comment section, in this fucking community, trying to justify his bullshit.

Matthew Mercer, the man that brought this fucker to life, has gone on record to describe his behaviours as toxic and to call him one of the 'grossest' characters he's ever portrayed.

And his lines...

And I've not—I've not been the pinnacle of a father, in the same way that you've not been the pinnacle of a daughter. I accept my responsibilities in the things that I've maybe been a bit harsh on. But look what you've become.

I regret choices I've made, and you don't think I don't hold myself responsible for…? I thought I was doing what was best for you, truly.

Textbook gaslighting.

He deflects.

Taking credit for accomplishments made by his victim.

Empty promises of self-reflection.

I won't be discussing the gaslighting further because I'm hardly an authority, and a cursory google search won't change that. But what from what I've heard of gaslighters, he fits the damn bill.

All this to say, please people, please stop trying to justify a terrible father's harmful actions toward his daughter. Paying to have the Cobalt Soul kidnap her isn't the problem. The problem is that it's just the fucked up cherry on top of an entire childhood of poor treatment.

Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. ~ Caduceus Clay, Dinner with the Devil (2x110) from 3:22:25 through 3:23:11.

Now, go hug a loved one and do something that makes you happy to detox after this long, hard rant of mine.

Have the day you deserve. Don't forget to love each other.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr #cr meta #cr spoilers #thoreau lionett #cr beauregard #beauregard lionett #mighty nein #mighty nein spoilers #cr2 #campaign 2 #tw child abuse #tw gaslighting #gaslighting #child abuse #Youtube

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Chapter 23: Oyayc (Second Chances - Hunter x reader)

Oyayc. adj. alive

Chapter Summary: You receive a strange message while on an errand.

Chapter Warnings: gets a little suggestive so minors be gone, angst, hurt/comfort, talking about feelings, author is exhausted and their brain refuses to work properly, thank you DJ for the ending divider! &lt;3

Word Count: 3,702

A/N: hello hello I am back I am here I am excited to be writing this again after my week off. not totally sure how I feel about this chapter bUT the next few are gonna be fun (for me) so strap in!

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As you lower yourself to the bare floor of your brand new bedroom, you sigh, crossing your legs. In front of you rests a holorecorder. A breeze puffs through the open window; the joyful sounds of children laughing and playing wafts to you with the scent of baking bread. It’s early afternoon, the kids are out of school for the day, and your new houses are finally ready (with the exception of furniture).

You’d promised the others you would join them at Shep’s for dinner, but you’ve been lingering in your new abode for close to an hour now. You’re not sure what is stopping you from simply recording the message, pressing ‘send,’ and rejoining your family, but every time you’ve set the recorder down and turned it on, the words stick in your throat. Echo hasn’t been online since he departed during your...brief exile, and despite Hunter’s assurances, you worry for Echo. You worry you won’t get the chance to see him again—and the pressure to get this message ‘just right’ presses on your chest. 

Surveying the space that will become your own personal hideaway, you chew at the inside of your cheek. The walls are pale, smooth clay; the floors consist of neatly-planed planks of hardwood; and the window faces west to catch the sunset, your favorite view. It’s why you’d picked this room for yourself. The kitchen overlooks the shared courtyard, but this, the near-spiritual feeling of watching the sun paint the sky and kiss the horizon, becoming subsumed by it, this is something you wanted to keep to yourself.

But you’re procrastinating. Inhaling a deep breath of warm sea air, you press the record button on the small device. A red light blinks on.

“Hey, Echo,” you begin, a smile twisting your mouth. “I—kriff, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried recording this. Can’t figure out where to start, I suppose.” Trailing off, you fidget with the hem of your pants, sifting through the various pieces of information that you want him to know. “I.... Thank you for what you said in your message to me. Things have gotten better between us all here. We’ve skipped town, hiding somewhere new. I’m sure your brother could send you coords whenever you want to come visit. There’s plenty of room for you here.

“The kid is doing great,” you say, making a deliberate decision not to name names in case this falls into the wrong hands somehow. “She misses you, but we all do. It’s different without you here. I hope wherever you are, you’re happy. Or at least not miserable. The others told me a little about what you’re doing, and as much as I worry about you, I know you’re doing a good thing. The right thing, even.”

You swallow, tears suddenly springing to your eyes, blurring your vision. In the gathering dark, the room around you seems to fall into deeper silence, shadows ushering in a blanket of stillness that sets your emotions plainly in view for you to see. You wipe away the wetness that spills down your cheeks. 

“Sorry,” you say with a hiccup, “just...I don’t think I’ve taken the time to actually process anything in a long time. I spent so much time running from my past that I ignored the future I wanted. Arien, losing the squad, getting them back.” You sniffle, trying to regain composure. “That, uh, thing that you always teased me about? It’s real. It’s so real, Echo. He makes me so happy, and I like to believe I do the same for him.

“Anyways!” Clearing your throat, you give the recorder a tight smile. “I don’t want to keep you. Let us know that you’re safe when you can. If you need anything, I’ll be there. Miss you, vod.” You click the holorecorder off, holding your smile until the light flickers off. 

A choked sob breaks through. Hugging your legs to your chest, you drop your forehead to your knees, a tightness in your chest that you haven’t felt in a long while. You’ve been on the move for so long, running from the Empire, from your actions and your feelings, from the fear of the unknown, and now you’re at a standstill. The dust is finally beginning to settle.

“Cyare.” Hunter’s voice is as soft and gentle as his hands as he slides you back across the floor into his warm embrace. 

You give a squeak of surprise, craning your neck to look at him. “H-Hunter? When did you—”

“Came looking for you when dinner started,” he says. “Thought I might find you here.” 

Face warming in embarrassment, you hastily dry your face. “How much did you, uh, hear?” 

“Ah.” He sighs, offering you a crooked smile. “I didn’t mean to listen in.” 

“You heard all of it.” 

“Yeah.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “You do make me happy, cyare.” 

Silence rests easy between you. You know you should get up and join the others at dinner, but you can’t shake the sudden discomfort that arises at the thought of doing so. There’s no way the others don’t know, or at least suspect, what’s going on between you and Hunter. But it’s one thing to assume they know, and to tell them outright. 

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

The words slip out without you really thinking about them, but as soon as you say it, you realize it’s what makes you so uncomfortable about actually telling the others that you and Hunter are entertaining a relationship.

Hunter hums, the vibrations tingling across your back where you lean against his chest. “I’m not sure I follow.” 

“Just...” You shake your head. “I was in a prison cell two weeks ago.” 

“And there was a war just last year,” he says. “I have accelerated aging. A lot has changed and a lot will keep changing. I care about you. I care for you. That’s what matters to me.” 

You breathe in his natural scent as you digest his words. You can’t say you disagree; you’ve wanted to move faster this entire time, but there’s still something that you can’t put your finger on that continues to worm doubt through you. 

He tightens his arms around you and continues, “I’ve forgiven you for what you kept secret. I’ve forgiven myself for being an ass about it afterwards. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. If you’re worried about any of that, don’t be. We both could have handled it better.” 

Understanding clicks into place. That’s what your brain has latched onto. He’d given you an ultimatum, and then revoked it, but you hadn’t yet had a concrete conversation about where things stood since then. Now you know; and if he’s sure, then you’re less worried with the others.

Turning in his grasp so that you’re face to face, you study his features in the light of dusk, muted purple sunlight draping his skin. He gazes back, even and calm and sincere.

You lean forward and kiss him.

His palm is large and warm against your back as he presses you closer, his other hand cupping the back of your neck. Tilting your head, you lick at his bottom lip. He groans softly as he opens for you, his tongue hot where it slides against yours, his entire body sighing as you devour him. You slide your hands under his shirt. His skin is smooth; you revel in the way his muscles flex under your touch as you map his body with your fingertips. 

He breaks the kiss first, eyes fluttering open. “Better?” 

You laugh, playfully tickling at his sides. To your delight, he yelps, shying away from your touch.

“Yes, better,” you say, filing his ticklishness away for another time. Withdrawing your hands, you sigh. “We should go eat.”

“Food,” he agrees. “And then we figure out how to get us some furniture. I’m tired of sleeping in the ship.” 

You and Hunter take the winding path up to Shep’s home side-by-side, hands intertwined, warmth settling comfortably in your bones despite the nerves gnawing at your stomach. You try to tell yourself you’re just hungry. As you near the gate, Hunter gives you one final, searching look, his gray eyes twinkling in the approaching firelight, before swinging the gate open.

Phee notices first. She coughs on her drink, but a grin, lazy and smug as a loth-cat that got the cream, spreads over her lips. “Welcome back, you two.”

Leveling her with a glare, you can only shake your head. Hunter releases your hand, only to slide his arm around your waist and tug you closer. You catch the smirk on Tech’s face, the one that very clearly means that his hypothesis has just been confirmed and no further data will be needed. 

“Wha—” Wrecker follows Tech’s gaze, and his jaw drops with a gasp. “Oh! About time, you two.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. You detach yourself from Hunter’s side to sink into a seat next to Wrecker. The fact that none of them so far have expressed any negative reactions serves to calm your worries. 

“You and Hunter have clearly been attracted to one another for quite some time,” Tech says. “I will alert Echo that I owe him credits.” 

Aggrieved dismay flashes over Hunter’s face as he draws up a seat on Wrecker’s other side. “You...placed bets on whether Nav and I would get together.” 

“Duh,” Wrecker says with an eye roll.

“Only on the timeframe in which you would, ah, ‘get together’,” Tech clarifies. 

Dropping your head into your hands, you groan. “I should have known.”

“Where’s Omega?” Hunter says. 

“Inside with Lyana,” Phee answers. “I’ll go get her. She wanted to wait to eat until you came back.” 

Following Phee with your eyes, you can’t help the smile that threatens to overtake your features. You can’t fathom now why you were worried at all. The squad is your family; they want only the best for you the same way you only want the best for them. Letting that thought fill you with soothing comfort, you reach across the table for the jug of berry wine and pour yourself a cup. 

Two sets of footsteps come pelting out of the house behind you, and a moment later, Omega and Lyana launch themselves into their respective chairs, breathless and in the throes of giggles. Savoring the explosion of fruit across your tongue, you sigh in contentment, gazing around at the people you care about most.

Well, you’re missing one or two, but that’s alright. 

“A toast,” Phee says as she returns, as well. Lifting her cup of wine with deft fingers, she inclines her head towards you. “To health, luck, and love. To (y/n) and Hunter.” 

Wrecker cheers, clapping Hunter on the back. Thankfully, you’re spared Wrecker’s physical enthusiasm, and instead down your drink, keeping an eye on Omega. 

You catch the exact moment the lightbulb clicks on for her. Her eyes widen, smile growing almost impossibly bigger. She throws herself at Hunter and wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

He glances at you through her curls, a carefree smile curling over his face. You raise your cup to him. 

As it turns out, most of the furniture on the island was either brought by the villagers when they fled their homeworlds, or was smuggled in after the fact. Standing in the midst of the shared courtyard, you cross your arms over your chest, only half listening to Phee and Tech go back and forth about where is the best place to acquire second-hand furnishings. 

Instead, you watch in silent amusement as Omega flits between the three houses. She still hasn’t picked which room will be hers. In all honesty, you’re tempted to give her the idea to have a room in each house—there’s plenty of room, even when you factor in holding a few rooms as spares for Echo.

Wrecker beats you to it. “Hey, kid,” he calls. “Just pick one in each.” 

She pauses on the threshold of the centermost home. “Great idea, Wrecker!” 

She disappears into the house with renewed energy. 

“We are going to have to furnish all three of her rooms now, Wrecker,” Tech informs with his finger raised. 

Wrecker shrugs. “I decorated her room on the Marauder. I can handle three more rooms.”

“So long as she keeps them all clean,” Hunter calls, loud enough for his voice to carry into the house that Omega is currently exploring. 

You chuckle. But the moment of mirth fades as a thought occurs to you. “We don’t have enough credits for three rooms for her, let alone one.” 

“I thought that might come up,” Phee says. She detaches a satchel from her belt and tosses it to you. You catch it in one hand. To your surprise, the bag makes a pleasant tinkling sound as you handle it; opening the drawstring, your eyebrows raise at the sight of so many credits. 

“Phee, we can’t possibly—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she interrupts. “It’s the least I can do. That should be enough for the essentials. You’ll get more the longer you’re here.” 

The longer you’re here. The credits in your hand are a promise of a stable future, one spent in peace, growing old with your family and raising your kid. You hope you convey the depth of your appreciation as you meet Phee’s caring eyes. 

“You should get going,” she says. “Brown Eyes, I made a list of nearby systems I’ve stopped at before for this kind of thing.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” he says, adjusting his goggles. “I am quite—ow!” 

You deadpan at Tech, pain blooming in your big toe where you kicked his shin. 

He huffs. “Fine. Thank you, Phee. I will take a look at the list.” 

“We should take one ship for now,” Hunter says, cutting off the sarcastic jibes about to be traded between Phee and Tech. “Until we know exactly what it is we’re looking for.” 

“The Redthorn has more cargo space,” you say. 

“But if we end up in a tight spot, we’re in trouble,” he counters. 

You shrug. “We did alright that one time.”

“You weren’t on the ship when we fled Nixor,” he says. There’s something in his tone that tells you to drop it. You frown, searching his face, but you can’t find anything there that gives away what he’s trying not to say aloud. 

“Fine.” You gesture to Tech. “The Marauder it is, then.”

As Tech maneuvers the ship down across the icy planet, your first stop of many today, you peer with suspicion through the front viewports at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon. The cold has never agreed with you, and from the looks of the brewing storm, it’s about to get a hell of a lot colder out there. 

The one thought bringing you comfort is that this iceball is as backwater as Pabu. The risk of running into the Empire here is near zero. 

Hunter seems equally uncomfortable at the prospect of getting caught in poor weather. “Tech, what’s the status on that storm?” 

Tech scans something on his datapad. “We have approximately four standard hours before the storm reaches us. That should be enough time to locate the merchants Phee indicated were trustworthy, negotiate prices, and set furniture aside for retrieval at a later date. If we have to, we can stay in town.” 

You frown. Four hours isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things. A memory, one you’ve mostly forgotten about, drifts to the front of your mind of the time when you and Arien went hunting for a couch for your shared apartment. What you expected to take an hour, two tops, turned into a full-day affair—and that was just for one piece of furniture. Now you have three full houses.

Hunter’s brow is furrowed; so is Omega’s, in a near spitting image of her elder brother. She senses you looking, and her face splits into a grin. 

“I’ve never seen snow before,” she says. 

“Yeah! We can have a snowball fight!” Wrecker’s enthusiasm is almost enough to melt your worries. Almost.

Hunter sighs. “We’ll do what we can and try to get out before the weather turns.”

Wrapping the scarf you’d bought for Echo around your head and face, you try to steel yourself for the blast of cold air awaiting you. You’ve still not been able to get past the fear that claws up your throat when you try to put on the plastoid helmet, so you’ve opted to wear the body pieces on top of your warmest clothing. Your head and face will have to make do with the scarf. Nodding once you’re ready, Hunter signals Tech. 

The ship ramp lowers. Your eyes sting in the cold, the air biting at your nose as you breathe. Tech parked the ship a short ways away from a town, in the midst of a barren, ice-coated forest. In an oval around the ship, the snow has melted to reveal a carpet of wet, brown grass underneath. Beyond that, snow blankets the ground in a thin layer. 

During the short walk to the town, you already have to fight to keep your teeth from chattering. You shove your hands under your armpits to keep your fingers warm. More than once, you nearly lose your footing on a slick, hidden stone or other patch of ice, but Wrecker’s steadying hands are always there to catch you from where he brings up the rear of the group.

The town comes into view suddenly through the break in the tree line. Single-story buildings crowd around a central street, with one structure rising another floor above that. Through glass windows, cheery fires and candles flicker, offering the promise of warmth. A shiver wracks through you. You pull the scarf tighter across your face, hoping your exhaled breaths will heat your cold nose. 

“There are two merchants,” Tech calls over his shoulder. “One is Zure, the other is Channi.” 

“Wrecker, take Omega and Tech to Channi,” Hunter orders, his modulated voice slipping easily back into the sergeant role. “Nav and I will find Zure.”

“Stay focused, you two,” Wrecker teases.

It only takes you a few moments after splitting up to find Zure’s shop. A crudely painted sign hangs from squeaky hinges on the outside of one of the nearby buildings, announcing the structure as “Zure’s Furnitures.” The fire in the hearth gutters as the door opens with a pleasant chime, resuming its cozy crackling only after the door is shut once again. Exhaling gratefully into the heated room, you tug the scarf down as Hunter lifts his bucket off his head.

All sorts of furniture pieces are crammed into this tiny, peculiar showroom. Tables of various sizes are topped by chairs, stools, and even beanbags; next to them, cushioned and upholstered recliners lounge, overflowing with multicolored blankets and pillows. Your initial impression is messy, followed closely by dusty. But you spot at least a few pieces in just this cursory glance that you’d like to inspect closer.

An Ithorian emerges from a backroom, a curtain of beads swinging and clacking together in place of a doorway. They speak in their two-mouthed language; a second later, their translator device speaks up. 

“Welcome! New faces are always welcome here at Zure’s,” they say. “I am Zure, of course. How can I help you?” 

You and Hunter exchange a glance, and he gestures for you to take the lead, having had more experience in this realm than he does. 

“Thank you,” you say, stepping forward. “We just moved to a nearby system and were told this was the best place to come for home decor.” 

“How magnificent!” the Ithorian says. You think they smile at you; you can’t really tell with their anatomy. “You heard right. Are you looking for anything in particular?” 

“Oh, we need everything,” you say. “For three houses.” 

The Ithorian makes a trumpeting kind of sound that the translator device offers no explanation of. “By the stars above! What an exciting project. Come, come, I have many styles for many rooms, yes, yes.”

Several hours later, head swirling with entirely too much information about local styles of wood carving and weaving, you stumble out of Zure’s Furnitures, Hunter in tow. Both of you emerge onto the main street, only to come to a halt at the sight of fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifting lazily from the sky. The nearby forest creaks as the wind whips through it, cutting through the protective warmth of the shop you’ve just left behind.

“We need to find the others,” Hunter says, slipping his helmet back on.

You nod. Drawing the scarf over your head once more, you frown in confusion at the blinking light on your vambrace. Had the others been trying to contact you? You hadn’t realized you’d put the comlink on silent. 

Pressing the correct button, you flinch as a piercing emergency signal beeps to life. 

“Kriff!” Hunter settles into a battle-ready stance immediately, drawing his vibroblade. “What—”

“Shhh!” You hold up one finger to silence him, listening intently to the erratic beeps shrieking through your comlink.

Except...it’s not erratic. It’s a message. You concentrate, brow furrowed, until you’re certain what the message reads. 

It’s just five characters on repeat to infinity. S.O.S. 88. S.O.S. 88. S.O.S. 88. 

“What does that mean?” you say, peering up into the darkened visor of Hunter’s bucket. “S.O.S. 88?”

He freezes, as if the cold air and slow-falling snow have hardened his body into an ice sculpture. Several long moments go by as you wait for him to respond, but when he doesn’t show signs of reacting, you rip his bucket off. 

“Hunter?” you say. 

His eyes flit to yours, wide and shocked. “The others.” He shoves his vibroblade back into its sheath. Grabbing your hand, he tugs you back in the direction of the ship. “Need Tech to trace that signal.”

You follow wordlessly, an idea already forming in the pit of your stomach.

Taglist: @the-hexfiles @fjordg @idoubleswearimawriter @skellymom @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

#tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #hunter x gn!reader #second chances #rhiwrites #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #x reader

[ephemerensis]

To You; February // Bakugou Katsuki x GN! Reader

ya new character 4 me ik,, anyways this is formatted as a love? letter/ monologue from katsuki 2 u! no pronouns or physical descriptions just… a lot of rambling. pretend ur birthday is the day after valentines pls </3 u can argue that it’s out of character but i disagree 🤨☝️ not proofread as always xoxo love yall

—

Something about February has always invoked in me a sense of docility.

It doesn’t make sense.

I have coined myself as an embodiment of passion and rage and discontent. It's against my nature to feel so calm.

I wouldn’t go as far as to say something stupid, like the love of the season settles onto me. I have sought none and I seek none. I’ve never had the desire. Love isn’t real; at least not the way it’s made out to be.

They make it seem so trivial. As if to be with someone defines it. I see in them, the fear of being alone and the fight for having someone over intertwining with someone. It’s almost melancholic. It’s completely idiotic. I reject every suitor in my path.

I don’t care for public displays of affection. I never have. Only morons need to parade around something so vulnerable like it’s a show. I care even less for sweet nothings. There are so few words that ever carry meaning anymore. How could a person be in love without ever presenting everything they are to the other? They mean nothing when they claim that my eyes are the most dazzling they’ve ever seen. Or maybe those idiots do mean it, everything glimmers if you squint. They see it without seeing me. If it were real, it would be too raw to be spoken. It would be whispered like a prayer. To salvage it from being stolen, or worse, remade and copied and sold until everyone has it. It becomes nothing.

At the very least, if I’m going to vocalize the most susceptible, intimate parts of me it should rivet through your soul and be yours alone.

Yet paradoxically, Valentine’s is my favorite holiday. I find myself more tolerant. Sometimes I’m even happy for them, because despite the intentions and deceit and falsehoods and inflations of avoiding a fear— at the very least they have succeeded. I find myself happy. Maybe it is something stupid. I’ve never had nor wanted another person, but I once had a soul shattering inkling of you.

Of course, we weren’t together then. We were never together. But we were never friends. Stuck somewhere on the cusp of both and yet impossibly far away from either. And somehow still, in that platonic complacency you managed to breathe an innate sense of comfort into me. It’s like my persona was unfired clay, I crumble to you. Your words meant nothing, but when you called me dumb I couldn’t have been more irrevocably enamored. I found myself content. Like a moment of clarity in the midst of noise. Especially, on a day I so often found to be profane. But I can hardly justify my favoritism through the confines of contentment alone. It’s too ordinary.

That’s not to degrade contentedness. It’s a peace I spend my longer days pining for. Above joy, it is ecstasy to know the permanent renderings of contentment.

But I would be lying to say it’s the only reason. Really, it's something more technical. The day after, forever and inevitably, was always your birthday. When you first told me, I said it was unfortunate. Who would want to celebrate with you when the world was too caught up in the whims of chocolate coated affections. But you said you didn’t care, validation never meant so much to you. That congealed loneliness I so often expected you to feel doesn’t exist. I know that now. As if anyone else ever mattered in our lives, yours and mine.

It was then I began waiting for Valentine’s Day. I looked forward to it. There was a time when I even pined for it to end, because it was a permanent, promised excuse to talk to you. We spoke so often but every sentence we’d exchanged always entranced me. You still do. But February especially was always yours.

It became my favorite holiday to justify all that. Then it became less about you. Half because I was never vocal about my feelings, and half because I grew too fond of platonic complacency. Until I did believe it was my favorite. It’s true now— although I’m not sure it was ever really a lie. I think somewhere in my mind I equated the two.

For the first time in years, I almost forgot your birthday. If you didn’t text me the day prior, I might’ve. But that contentment you stirred in me perpetually rolls in with the month, with or without your presence. It is yours. I don’t believe in love, but I can’t deny I do love you. You have bewitched my soul. That calm, content forever. A promise of nothing. We were never meant to be together, and I love you.

—

likes and reshares appreciated !

#bakgou katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo angst #bnha #bakugo fanfic #bakugo x gn reader #bakugo x gender neutral #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x female reader #bakugo x male reader #love letter #fluff #angst #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #mha #my hero academia

[labrxnth]

Misery Loves Company pt 4 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 3: Ticking Clocks and Revelation

Parts: 1 2 3

CW: body image issues, SMUT, insecurity

WC: 7338 (oops my hand slipped)

Summary: (Y/n) and Leon's dinner date is finally here

Tag list: @makimakimi

A/N: Hey all, I just wanted to say thank you for your patience over my health crisis the past week. I told you you'd get fed after it settled and I keep my promises.

The clock on the wall couldn’t have gone any slower. It felt like the ticking of it was mocking her, the face sticking its tongue out, chiding her. (Y/n) had gone over everything multiple times, so naturally she was pacing around her apartment. The heat in her apartment was suffocating when it was usually welcoming. Her carpet scraped her feet instead of feeling plush. The candles felt like they were going to catch fire, like her throat was, enveloping her being in terrifying flames. 

It had been too long since she had gone on a date. Unlike most of her coworkers, she wasn’t a fan of the drunken hook-ups that sparked rumors around the office. (Y/n)’s approach to dating was a little traditional, she would admit, but she was a poet when it came to love. She wanted a partner who she could sing songs of for years to come. Someone that she could easily see nature reflected in and vice versa. Someone she would find in paintings that artists slaved over, crafting the definition of beauty. 

She had stomped on the hope that anyone would see her that way.   

She stared at herself in the mirror, picking apart her appearance. Maybe her hair was too messy or too neat, her (h/c) hair was down and fell on her shoulders. Was it weird that she was wearing her hair differently than normal? Should she put it up in the normal ponytail that she had at work? 

Her eyes trailed out to the outfit she was wearing. It was much different than anyone had seen her in. Usually, Leon caught her in her work attire, no matter if it was at a bar or not. The clay coloured tank top showed a little bit much of her (s/c) cleavage, but again, these were her usual clothes outside of the office. The cream colored shrug that she had on was crocheted and sit high on her arms. She had necklaces upon necklaces making sure that they matched the earthy colors that she already had on. Her dusty rose colored patchwork skirt was probably going to be the biggest shock. 

Over the past few years, (y/n) had started to embrace her femininity. She realized that she didn’t have to act like a stereotypical man to be respected or to kick their asses. While that didn’t just mean that she started wearing skirts, it presented itself in that way sometimes. She was returning to the girl who loved to run in fields barefoot, picking flowers for her family. Her femininity made her happy, she just felt like she had to strip it away to be taken seriously. 

Now she was a badass STRATCOM agent that also picked flowers and wore skirts. 

Speaking of, she had spent some time after work at the flower shop. A while ago, (y/n) read an article that talked about how the first flowers some men receive were at their funeral. The rest of that day was spent in tears over how awful she thought that was. She couldn’t help but think of her partner. Had anyone ever given him flowers? Had anyone ever told him he was pretty? Maybe he was used to the rough side of love: passion, hunger, and desire. Maybe he was used to being seen as masculine, forced to fit in the box that men were often put in. She wondered if Leon ever had someone to just hold him through his emotions, a safe space for him. 

Her thoughts moved to a woman in a red dress, one that he had talked about many times. The way he talked about her made (y/n) think she was “the one that got away”. Was she ever there for him in the ways (y/n) was thinking about? 

Maybe in the back of her mind, she thought that he had just made a move on her because he knew Ada was unattainable. 

First she was thinking of the bouquet she bought for Leon, now she was spiraling, thinking that she wasn’t good enough. Her self-sabotaging nature didn’t just stop at work, it reared its ugly ass head every corner that she turned. It was seen in every significant other eventually breaking up with her, it was seen in not being allowed to go with Leon to Spain. 

Major Sierra was being a bitch earlier today, but his words still cut deep like the training knives he had them use. Her fingers ghosted the spot Leon punched, where a brutal maroon bruise was forming under her tank top. It reminded her of her failures, whether on the field or in her mind. 

This inadequacy was a plague that she couldn’t heal, even with leeches. 

The clock on the wall couldn’t have gone any slower. It felt like the ticking of it was mocking her, the face sticking its tongue out, chiding her.  

She sat down on her purple velvet couch, head in her hands. Maybe this was a mistake, she felt like mentally she was so far behind Leon. It was a win when she would go an hour without thinking something negative about herself, he exuded confidence. She pushed herself to the point of coughing up blood for recognition without it, he naturally turned heads when he walked in the door. 

Of course, (y/n) knew that Leon had his problems, but confidence seemed like it wasn’t one of them. The clock on the wall couldn’t have gone any slower. It felt like the ticking of it was mocking her, the face sticking its tongue out, chiding her.

A familiar meowing brought her back to reality. In front of her stood her long, fuzzy friend, knowing she needed a nonhuman buddy. 

“Hey, Ginge,” (Y/n) said to her calico cat, taking solace in her big yellow-green eyes. Ginger jumped up to join her on the couch, curling into her side. (Y/n) ran her fingers lightly through Ginger’s fur, using every stroke to pace her breathing. Eventually the thoughts died as easily as any plant she tried to mother. “Leon’s coming over again, this time behave,” She said to the cat. 

The slow clock on the wall instead of chiding her this time, welcomed a memory. 

“You becoming a crazy cat lady now?” Leon’s lips tugged into a smirk. 

“So what? I’m lonely,” (Y/n) said, looking at cat toys in the supermarket. Her fingers grazed against a bunch of colorful labels, trying to find the best toy for her new buddy. “And you haven't even met Ginger yet. Don’t speak ill of someone you haven’t met.”

“You haven’t even met Ginger yet,” Leon emphasized. 

“Which is why my best friend is here to meet my new best friend,” (Y/n) said simply. 

Leon chuckled, his laughter sounding like honey to her ears. “If I’m your best friend, you are lonely.” He teased. 

“Exactly! I thought you’d be all for this,” She replied defensively. 

“I’d rather go looking for people at bars with you. My experience with women could help you,” He said. 

“Hell no, keep your trash opinions to yourself, Kennedy.” 

“Suit yourself.” He said and went back to watching her eye the toys. 

The memory flashed to later that night of Ginger biting Leon’s hand and him whining about it the entire car ride home. 

Her attention got pulled back to reality when she heard a few knocks on her door. 

“Coming!” She said, almost jumping off the couch. Ginger’s eyes followed her like a shadow. The ticking of the clock echoed her heartbeat, it roaring in her ears. 

She opened the door to see Leon with two pizza boxes and a shopping bag full of beer and liquor. Seeing how he cleaned up a little bit took her off edge. He was wearing a beige leather jacket with fur on the collar and sleeve ends and a faded dad rock band t-shirt tucked into dark pants with a clean belt. 

(Y/n) noticed after looking at his outfit, seemingly running her eyes up and down him, that he was doing the same to her. 

“Uh, come in,” She said and opened the door more. Leon stepped in quickly, closing the door with his foot as soon as he walked in. He placed the pizza boxes down on the counter and opened the bag, placing the alcohol and liquor on the counter as well. 

“One freaky pizza for one freaky woman,” He said and tossed the bag in her hallway closet. 

“Thanks,” (Y/n) said and looked around the room. She was forgetting something…. She knew she was forgetting something. Ah! The flowers! 

She quickly walked over to the bouquet of dried flowers and hid it behind her back. Walking up to him, grinning almost evilly, she locked eyes with him. 

“I don’t like that look,” Leon said, removing his shoes at the door.

“Do you trust me?” She asked.

“Jesus, not this again,” He grumbled. “I hate it when you do this.”

“Just close your eyes and stick your hands out,” (Y/n) said. 

“Fine….” Leon sighed. He closed his eyes and held his hands out. She placed the bouquet in his hands and watched as he slowly opened his eyes. His face was confused as he looked at the flowers. “Flowers.” He said matter of factly. 

“I read an article that a lot of men get their first flowers at their funeral. I didn’t want one of them to be you,” She said, studying his reaction. 

His gaze softened as he processed what she said. “Yeah, I think these are the first flowers I’ve ever gotten,” He said in understanding. 

“They’re dried too, so you can’t kill them,” (Y/n) said and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Where should I put them until I leave?” Leon asked. She took them from him and put them in a flower pot. 

“Don’t make me remind you later tonight,” She said. 

“Later tonight?” Leon asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Her eyes cluelessly met his. 

“Yeah, when you leave,” She said flatly. 

“Oh,” He replied, seeming a little saddened. 

“Actually, with the alcohol you brought, you should probably stay the night. Lord knows with your record that you don’t need to add alcohol to your driving.” She said, inspecting the bottles of Fireball and Vodka. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leon’s eyes light up a bit. She also swore that she could’ve seen him staring her up and down. Her brain told her to not focus on that and just read the label on the whiskey for the 10th time. 

Ginger jumped up on the counter and started sniffing the pizza boxes. (Y/n) stared at her, expecting her to tear up the box. 

“If you try to eat that, I’m giving you to the actual crazy cat lady one floor down,” She said to the cat. Ginger stared her her, seemingly understanding her, and made her way over to Leon. She sat down on the counter in front of him, tail flicking. 

“Hey, Ginge,” Leon said and started scratching her behind the ears. Her eyes slowly closed and opened, staring at him. 

“You two have come a long way,” (Y/n) said teasingly and pulled out two glasses. 

“Not my fault she bit me,”

“Yes it absolutely was,” She replied, recalling the night. 

The two of them chuckled together for a minute and stood in silence. 

“So…. that’s a nice jacket,” (Y/n) said looking at the leather. 

“Yeah, I made the mistake of bringing my own jacket with me to Spain. One of the Ganados bastards stole it and wore it as they attacked me. I made STRATCOM reimburse me.” Leon said. 

“The bastard,” She echoed. 

“Don’t worry, I shot him,” Leon said, accepting the glass she held out for him. 

“He had it coming,” (Y/n) said. She poured a couple of Fireball shots into her glass and heard Leon whistle. Her eyes snapped up to him. 

“Drinking shots out of a dinner glass? Without measuring them? Maybe Hunnigan was right, I need to check in on you more.” He said, a slight bit of concern for her in his voice. 

“I don’t have shot glasses, what do you want from me?” She replied. She reached under the counter and grabbed two plastic plates, putting them on the counter. After a few seconds of them locking eyes, she sighed. “What? Leon S. Kennedy can afford real plates?” She asked. 

“Yes I can, and I know that you can too. We pretty much have the same paycheck,” He replied simply, his eyes flickering between her eyes and the plates. 

“Pizza is pizza no matter what it arrives on,” She said. 

“That’s the god given truth,” Leon said and opened the boxes. He gently put Ginger on the ground and started dealing out the slices. 

(Y/n) grabbed the box of her pizza and brought it over to the couch. Leon raised his eyebrow and followed suit. 

“What?” She could feel his eyes peering into the back of her head, almost searching for something. 

“You know, they say that orphanage kids don’t have manners because we aren’t taught them. I thought that was true until I met you,” He said teasingly. 

“Don’t tell me you always have dinner at the table,” 

“It gets everywhere if you don’t,”

“Maybe if you eat like a pig, oh wait, weren’t you going to be one? No wonder why.” She gave him intense side eye with a grin tugging on her lips. 

“Yeah well, you also work for the government now,” Leon started. “That means, you’re a poser. God forbid the punk community you like so much finds out you work for the privatized American government’s military.”

(Y/n) stared at him in horror, almost dropping the slice of pizza she had in her hand. “Take it back,” She said. He gave her a shit eating grin back. “Take it back or I’ll wring your neck.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise,” (Y/n) said. 

“If you can get to me, I’ll gladly let you,” Leon said smugly. 

“I can down you on the mats, don’t forget it, Kennedy,” She replied and stuffed the slice of pizza in her mouth. 

After about 20 minutes of the back and forth banter, (Y/n) stood up to put her pizza box in the fridge; she gestured for Leon to hand her his and he did. Walking over to the fridge she could tell he was still staring at her. 

“Working for STRATCOM pretty much means you have eyes in the back of your head, I can feel you staring at me,” She said and closed the fridge door. 

“I’m just lost in thought,” He replied. 

“About what?” She grabbed the glasses on the counter filled with alcohol and brought them over to the couch. 

“About how this feels like every other time I’ve come here,” He said, staring into her eyes and taking the glass from her.

“What’s so bad about that?” (Y/n) asked him, keeping her eyes locked on his. 

“This is a date, (y/n),” Leon said. “Did I not make that clear?” 

She broke the gaze, looking at the whiskey in her glass. “Oh,” She said. In her peripheral, she could see Leon still staring at her. He put his drink down on the side table and quickly did the same with hers.

He lifted her chin up so that she was looking in his eyes again. The distance between them closed, until he was inches away from her face. So close, yet so far. (Y/n) was ready for him to kiss her, why did he stop? He looked like he was fighting with himself, asking the same question in his own mind. 

His blue eyes tore into hers, searching for an answer to a question unasked. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asked. “You’ve always been striving to be the best at work, but it’s gotten worse the past three weeks.” 

“It’s nothing,”

“It’s nothing?” The two of them said together, (y/n) stating and Leon asking. Even by partner standards, Leon was always able to read her like a book and make her feel like she couldn’t hide anything from him. 

She sighed and felt his hand move away from her chin. Maybe the person that she thought was building walls wasn’t the person staring back at her. But like he did, she was willing to take a hammer to the wall she built up, trying to keep herself safe. “I just…. I feel like I’m not good enough for anything,” She said and looked around the room. 

“Why?” He asked.

“What happened three weeks ago?” (Y/n) asked redundantly, staring back at him. Her eyes drifted down to his jacket as a hint. 

Leon ran his hands through his hair and sighed, his brows furrowing together. “I tried to bring you with me, I begged them,” Leon said. 

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself,” She replied. “Obviously I wasn’t good enough for them to think of sending me.” She stared at the cushion below her through her glass that she had picked back up. 

“Uh-uh. You are not going to spiral into self doubt again. I thought we worked on this,” He put his hand on her cheek, caressing it. 

She melted into his touch. Most people thought that his demeanor is cold, unsuspecting, but she knew that he was like a blue flame; an intense warmth, desperate to help others. (Y/n) was Icarus’s wings, longing to succeed; Leon was the sun, melting her down until she was vulnerable. 

“(Y/n), talk to me. I thought that you were doing better. You told me that you were doing better.” He said, making her look into his eyes. The same eyes where his blue flame of a soul was kept. Those eyes could make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up whether it was on an assignment, on the training mats, or in a bar. Now, they were a gentle kind of heat, the one that you crave after being in the cold for so long. 

Searching in his eyes, she could tell that she had been wrong about her partner all these years. Yes, there was hesitation and mixed feelings towards her, but he was always him with her. She was truly the one that had built the brick wall between them that she so pictured him placing brick by brick. Even the act of picking back up the glass had been to put a safety in between them. Just like he had torn down his side, she needed to tear down hers.

“I just want to be seen,” She said, trying to hold back tears. “My whole life has felt like I’ve been trying to prove that I deserve to exist.” She was clinging onto the glass in her hands like it was an anchor in an oncoming tsunami. “It’s been bad lately because I’ve built this wall between us since you got the call for the assignment. And I just feel worse and worse about it because you just had, like, the shittiest thing happen to you since Raccoon City, but I’m here spiraling in my self-doubt and pity.” 

Leon leaned forward on the couch, his eyes still trying to unpack the verbal dam that she just opened up. He took her glass and put it down again, almost asking her if she was going to keep putting things between them. Just like in her office, (Y/n) could feel the energy sparking between them, like flint and steel trying to light a fuel line that wasn’t producing any fuel.  

He took his jacket off, placing it on the back of the sofa, moving slowly like she would bolt anytime he made too sudden of a movement. As opposed to that, his arms quickly wrapped around her, bringing her close to him. 

Not only did he pull her into an embrace, he took his jacket off to make it skin to skin. To make it personal and intimate. To make it human. 

Once her brain processed the information, the tears she was holding back fell. He held her, comfortably yet securely, for a couple minutes, letting her silently cry into him. 

After the tears stopped, he pulled (y/n) back slightly so they could see each others’ faces. His next three words shocked her to her very being, feeling like a shock to her body and mind. 

“I see you,” He said. 

And just like that, any semblance of the wall between them was beaten down. She sat there, her brain once again trying to do mental gymnastics to pick up on what he said. 

“You’re good enough for me,” His voice cut through to her heart again.

(Y/n) sat there for a good second, still reeling from what he was saying to her. She was too spaced out to realize his expression change from concern to something she couldn’t track. No, it wasn’t that she couldn’t track it, it was just that no one had looked at her like this before. 

No one had truly looked at her with sadness, empathy, and love all at once.  

His calloused fingers wiped the tears away and her mind shot to other thoughts feeling them against her skin- 

Her eyes widened and she mentally kicked herself as her brain was trying to get her to indulge on how she thought those same long strong fingers would feel in other places. 

“(Y/n)?” Leon asked, calling her back to reality. She thanked whatever higher power was watching right now. 

Her eyelids dropped back down to normal, but it was too long for Leon not to notice her change. He noticed her pupils dilating, her eyes widening. How her breathing hitched just slightly, being too quiet for a normal person to pick up on. How in his peripheral the tank top she was wearing was tighter around hardening nipples- 

Leon swallowed hard, trying to not make the situation awkward. Suddenly, his jeans felt a little more cramped than he would’ve liked them to; he was hoping that the night would go like this, but he wasn’t about to make a move on her until she was in a good mental space. 

Without second thought, (y/n) draped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Instead of the tender, questioning kiss, from her office, this kiss knew what it wanted. It clawed at each of them, demanding more, the heat between them building up instantly. 

She went to pull off her sweater, Leon’s hands grabbing hers. They pulled away from the kiss and his eyes stared into his, hungrier than he was standing across from her on the training mats; the look gave her a shiver down her spine. 

“Do you want this?” He asked clearly, his voice low and dark. 

“Yes,” (Y/n) said, still breathless from the kiss. 

“Tell me what you want,” He said slowly, his eyes changing from staring at her through his eyebrows to looking down at her, towards his cheeks. 

“God, I want you to fuck me, Leon Kennedy.” She replied, her eyes dripping with want, no need for the man in front of her. 

He swiftly put one hand on the back of the couch and one on the arm rest, caging her between his arms. His lips her on hers again, this kiss even more ferocious than the one before. 

Leon’s teeth were biting at her lower lip, asking her to open wide. (Y/n) opened her mouth slightly and felt his tongue force his way in, opening her mouth more. His tongue devoured the inside of her mouth, discontent with the speed and intensity wanting more. 

(Y/n) had to pull away for a breath, a string of spit connecting him until it was broken by distance. Leon’s lips were suddenly on her neck, wanting contact at all times. His kisses felt like they were ravenging her; stripping away her very being, not satisfied until her skin was peeled back, revealing her insides. 

(Y/n)’s breath hitched and she moaned, her eyes suddenly widening and the back of her hand covering her mouth. A blush devoured her face like Leon’s lips were her neck. His eyes darted up to hers when he heard the slight sound and he grabbed her wrist. 

“Fuck, you’re not hiding that from me,” He growled against her neck, pulling her hand away from her mouth. 

He focused on the spot that brought her sound, going harsher on it, pleading her body to make the same sound. To his excitement, a moan came from the back of her throat, Leon being able to feel it through her neck. The vibrations seemed to travel down his own body and straight to his dick. Earlier when his pants were slightly uncomfortable and cramped was nothing compared to now. It took all of his self restraint to not rip both of their clothes off and fuck her until she was howling; the thought of it didn’t help his quickly growing erection. 

He pulled her sweater off of her shoulders, the action creating goosebumps on (y/n)’s skin. Her own hands were trying to get his shirt off, but his lips refused to leave her neck. Leon’s lips dug deeper in her, teeth biting marks and his tongue calming them down immediately. 

He pulled away after making a few bruises and straddled her, reaching down to cross both his arms and lift his shirt off. 

The small act of him doing this made (y/n)’s brain restart. The way his hands roughly grasped the fabric, his forearms and biceps flexing as they crossed each other was like seeing a statue carved out of pure marble. His ashy blonde hair fell with gravity, looking like how it did when he reached down to pick up his knife. His eyes that were usually bright blue, calculating yet kind, were dark; his pupils were blown with lust and desire. If he looked like a statue taking off his shirt then he looked like a replica of a greek god when it was off. And (y/n) was more than ready to be his worshiper. 

“You really do have a staring problem,” He said smugly, a smirk pulling at his puffy pink lips, his usual demeanor coming back for a second. 

“Can’t help it when I have such a good subject to look at,” She replied. 

His face shifted back to the hungry and desperate stare. Starting at her earlobe, Leon traced two fingers along her jawline, stopping under her chin, pulling it up to meet his eyes again. (Y/n) thought her heart was going to give out at the action. She felt herself throb around nothing, a slight wetness starting to pool in her underwear.

“Be a good girl and tell me what you want again,” He said grinning, his eyes undressing her.   

She couldn’t stop a “Holy shit,” from leaving her mouth. Her breathing picked up, feeling like she was a goner. 

Leon chuckled. “Someone likes praise,” He mused and sprawled his hand around her neck, lightly ghosting it. “Use your words, Baby,” His voice sounded full, dark, like she had never heard it before. The wetness pooling in her underwear felt like it was dripping down her thigh now. She had equated Leon to the sun and herself to Icarus’ wings, now she was feeling that reality; her body was turning into putty in his hands and he had only touched her face and neck. 

She knew she would’ve folded if he asked her to, but this was going faster than she thought. 

“I want you to fuck me,” (Y/n) said again, truly being lost in her words and the situation. 

“Alright, I’m gonna tell you the plan,” He kept his light grip on her neck and the steel look of hunger. (Y/n) could have sworn he was looking at her like a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks was looking at a buffet. “First, I’m going to make you cum on my fingers, then my mouth, then a couple times on my dick.” He ran his other hand through his hair, looking down at her through his eyelashes. 

(Y/n) thought her heart was going to stop before, she could’ve sworn it did for about 5 seconds when those words dripped out of Leon’s mouth. She felt a pang in her chest, her blood ran cold. 

She knew she was fucked, and she couldn’t have been happier. 

“I’ve never came more than once,” She said sheepishly, her breath still hitching. 

“God damn, I should’ve done this earlier then,” He huffed. He moved off of her to kneel in between her knees; his arms pulled her so she was completely flat on the couch. The sudden movement made her wince and yelp from the injury on her stomach. His eyes met hers, recognizing the sounds as pain and not pleasure. “You okay?” He asked sternly. 

(Y/n) nodded, but he didn’t take it as an answer. He pulled her tank top up to reveal the maroon and yellow bruise, hissing when he saw it. 

“I was going to fuck you until you became part of the couch,” He said, his voice having a hint of disappointment. 

“I’m fine, it doesn't hurt too much,” She lied. 

His eyes met hers in a cold stare. “I know how much power I put into that, it definitely does hurt,” he replied coldly. 

“I can ignore it,” (y/n) replied, not wanting to get rid of the feeling in the room that had sprouted from the kiss. 

He watched her for a second, like a predator watches their prey right before they pounce. “Fine,” He sighed. “If it gets too much, make sure you tell me to stop.”

“I’d be crazy to miss an opportunity to get fucked into oblivion by you,”

“God, the things that you do to me,” He said before sliding her skirt down to reveal her very soaked underwear. “My point,” he added, looking at how wet she was already, his dick twitching in his jeans. His fingers flung her skirt completely off of her legs, immediately going to the fabric she was still wearing. She bit her bottom lip as he teased her folds, thumb lightly pushing on her clit, just enough that she could feel the pressure. Her eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed, trying to not cum on him from just that. 

His eyes trailed up her body to her face and his blood froze. Seeing her all flustered with her eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows knit, and lips slightly apart to breathe was driving him fucking insane. “Fuck this,” He said and ripped her underwear off her legs. 

His middle finger slid into her pussy, quickly making sure she was ready, then slipping in his ring finger. 

(Y/n) moaned at the sudden friction in her. Her back arched as he curled his fingers, hitting spots that she didn't know existed. He licked his thumb and swiped at her clit, finding it almost immediately and sending her nerves into overdrive. His fingers slid in and out of her at a fairly moderate pace, Leon being scared of going too hard at first. 

He wanted so bad to kiss her again, but he couldn’t stop looking at how even just his fingers affected her. The hand around (y/n)’s neck lightly pressed in, him searching her eyes for any sign of dislike. Instead, he felt her pussy start to clench around him and saw her lip starting to tremble. He sped his fingers up, wanting her to be shaking as she came all over his fingers. Her back arched more and he sped up, thumb abusing her clit. (Y/n) felt her body start to shake and involuntarily grabbed the wrist that was almost in her. Leon was too strong and kept going, pushing an orgasm out of her. The pleasure that hit her was like a wave smacking a flood wall.  

She moaned loudly and felt her pussy throb around his fingers, heat following it.

Once she came down from it, her eyes opened to meet Leon’s. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them, keeping eye contact. 

“Taste so good,” He said lowly. He took the time to unbuckle his pants, throwing them to the floor. (Y/n)’s eyes widened at the side of his outline in his boxers. She had heard him complaining about having to wear athletic cups during training before, but now she knew why. Her eyes went back to him licking his fingers. After he was done, he pushed her towards the arm rest to give himself room. Letting go of her neck, he dropped onto his stomach and looked at her. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” He said. (Y/n) nodded and looked at him as he wrapped his arms around her thighs. He pulled her into his mouth, tongue lapping at her clit. His calculating eyes never left hers. She grabbed onto the couch to ground herself, but it wasn’t sufficing, her hands grabbed onto his hair, lightly pulling at it. 

He whimpered, sending shivers down her spine and felt her pussy start to clench again from the vibration. His whimper sounded like heaven to her; the blush on his face making (y/n) move her hips to ride his face. 

Leon pulled her even closer to his face, tongue fucking her while his nose hit her clit. 

“Fuck, Leon,” she moaned his name and that was the breaking point for him. 

He pulled away suddenly and looked at her, heavily breathing. “You’re making me break my promise,” He growled. 

“What?” (Y/n) asked, dazed. 

“I can’t wait, guess you’ll just have to cum on my dick three times instead of two,” He said, pulling down his boxers and throwing them on the ground. (Y/n) watched as his dick sprung out of them; if she didn’t have self control, she’d be drooling. Earlier she had equated him to a Greek god, the more she saw of him only further proved her point. His tip was red and leaking pre-cum already, his breath hitched when he noticed her staring. 

Leon grabbed (y/n), flipping her over so that she was stomach down on the couch; how fast and seamless he did it took her breath away. He pulled her up so that her back was to his chest and she was sitting on his thighs. All she could feel was the warmth of his body spreading to her.

“Sorry, got a little too excited,” His breath was low and hot in her ear. His fingers ghosted the bruise on her stomach. 

“Don’t stop,” (y/n) pleaded.

“Fuck,” Leon replied, his voice desperate for her. He slightly lifted her up, easing her onto his dick. They both moaned, sounding like a choir of pleasure. (Y/n) leaned her head back on his shoulder and bit her lip as he bottomed out. They stayed melted in this moment for a few seconds, both not wanting to let go of it. Slowly Leon started pulling himself out, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling and hip lips ghosting words that he couldn’t form; he didn’t have to say anything for (y/n) to know what he wanted to. 

Like a cord being snapped, Leon set an excruciating pace. He put two of his fingers in her mouth, nonverbally telling her to lick them; she did so and he pulled them out, circling them around her clit. His other hand took her tank top off and cupped her breast, to physically support her and to emotionally support himself. At her neck, he went to leaving kisses and bitemarks, wanting everyone to know that she was his.

(Y/n)’s thighs involuntarily tightened, feeling another climax. Leon felt her tighten around his dick and he moaned; he detached his mouth from her neck and the hand that was on her breast moved under her chin. He pulled her chin up so she was looking behind herself and into his eyes. 

“Cum for me,” He commanded. 

As if on cue, her body sent her through another orgasm. Her pussy convulsed around Leon’s dick and her fingers dug into his hips behind her. (Y/n) moaned as her back arched, screaming his name like it was a song made for a lover. And in a way, it was. Her eyes started to close as she was riding out her climax, but Leon’s hand wrapped around her neck, slightly pushing in. 

“Keep your eyes on me (y/n),” He demanded. She was expecting to open her eyes to see him stoic, staring down at her like he always did when he downed her on the training mats. Instead, when she opened them, she saw that he was as much of a mess as she was. His bangs were sticking to his forehead from sweat, his eyes were fixed on her and his pupils were blown wide from desire. His cheeks had blush all over them, his eyebrows were raised, and his lip was starting to quiver. 

The sight of him looking at her like she meant as much as he meant to her was enough to send her into another orgasm. As her body convulsed again, moans escaped her lips like every orgasm was the first one She saw a vein popping out of Leon’s neck and his jaw set, something 

that she knew meant he was trying his fucking best to focus. 

His pace became quicker, hungrier, as his dick slammed into her almost stretching out her cervix. (Y/n)’s thighs shook as overstimulation washed over her; she could hear and feel everything five times more than she had before. She felt the muscles on his thighs tighten and relax with each violent thrust, she felt his arms hot around her as the hand that was abusing her clit moved to above her bruise. She could feel every sweat drop on either of their bodies, and she could feel her insides getting shredded, she could hear her guts getting rearranged; (y/n) was pretty sure she died and went to heaven. 

Leon moved desperately as he could feel his own climax coming. It was taking all of his strength he built up over the past 6 years to not cum as soon as she first pulsed around his dick; she felt better than anything he could have imagined, and better than he had imagined her being. 

(Y/n) heard him starting to moan and whimper as he was getting close. His thrusts were trying to swallow her very being, One of her hands moved to the hair on the back of his neck and he pulled her closer, flush against his chest. Leon moaned her name in her ear like it was a word only he knew. His dick twitching in her while hitting spots that she thought were impossible, his moans that were music to her ears, and her overstimulation were sending her into another high. The only sounds that came out of her mouth were yelps, moans, and whimpers as her whole body became hot. 

“Fuck, (y/n) I’m gonna-” His voice broke. 

With one final thrust, she could feel him twitching inside of her; spilling his cum and painting her pussy walls white. He rode out his climax and it sent her into another screaming one. Their moans filled the room together, a harmony of pleasure and love. Leon slowed his thrusting down, stopping once they were both down from their climax. 

The hand that was on her neck moved to be with the other one, wrapped around her waist. He kissed her shoulder and gently pulled her off of him. (Y/n) fell into the couch, turning over so her back would be on the cushions. Leon rubbed her thighs and smiled gently down at her. Getting up, he went to get a towel from the hallway closet.

He sat down on the couch and gingerly wiped her off. “You okay?” He asked, his eyes floating to hers that were still dazed. 

“Mmmh, yeah,” She said slowly and lazily. Her body felt like it was done sprinting a marathon. 

“I’ll go get you some water,” Leon chuckled, cleaning himself off. He went to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle, bringing it back to (y/n). “Your bruise still okay?”

“At this point I wouldn’t care if it hurt,” She said, voice hoarse. Sitting up, she grabbed the water that Leon was holding out to her and drank. His hand gently went to her neck as she drank and his eyes never let hers. 

(Y/n) never had someone look at her like how Leon had this entire night or even just in this moment. For some reason, this felt more intimate than the back breaking sex they just had. She wished that she could bottle up this moment and keep it to look at because she recognized the look in his eyes. He could sing songs of her for years to come. He could easily see nature reflected in her and vice versa. He could find her in paintings that artists slaved over, crafting the definition of beauty. 

She finally found someone that reflected the love she gave out. 

“I’m guessing I’m not sleeping on the couch?” Leon asked, still looking at her like she was the love that musicians wrote about. 

“Absolutely not,” She replied, handing him the bottle that had half of its water still in it. He took a few sips and put it on the side table. They sat together in silence, looking at each other, taking in each other’s beauty. Yes, they were sweaty and yes their hair was everywhere, but they were each others’ works of art and that’s what made them the most beautiful people in the world. 

“I’m going to carry you to bed, okay?” He asked. 

“‘Kay,” (Y/n) replied. 

Leon stood up and picked her up, carrying her bridal style to her cushiony bed. “Sorry it was on the couch,” He mumbled under his breath. 

“We’ll just have to save it for another time then,” She replied and chuckled. Her back gently hit the mattress and she wanted to instantly fall asleep. 

“Do you want to sleep with clothes on or off?” Leon asked. “I’ll grab our clothes from the living room.”

“I’m too tired to put my clothes on, you’re fine,” (Y/n) said, pulling the covers down. Leon got in and instantly wrapped his arms around her waist, careful to not touch her bruise. She pulled the covers over them and nestled into his chest, smiling up at him. They stayed wrapped in each other, without talking for a couple of minutes.

“If Ginger didn’t hate me before, she does now,” Leon said and chuckled. 

“Huh?” (Y/n) looked up at him. “What do you mean?” 

“I think we just traumatized her,” 

“Don’t worry, she tries to fuck the neighborhood stray every weekend, it’s payback.” (Y/n) said.

“I guess you and her have that in common,” Leon smirked. 

“I can still set up the pull out couch,” 

“I take it back,” He replied. 

(Y/n) didn’t know when they stopped talking. The night was peaceful and sleep lulled her to accept it, the clock that usually chided her following suit. (Y/n) also didn’t know when she fell asleep to the sound of Leon’s heartbeat and his rhythmic breathing. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #drunken confessions #slow burn #resident evil fanfiction

[the-rockit]

Erm felt like randomly sharing my cartoon/fictional crushes throughout the years of what I can remember! Ye :3 The format will be this:

Character(source) - age when I crushes on them(any extra notes)

So buckle up!! :33

Chucky(Child's Play)- 4

Finn Mertins(Adventure Time)- 5

Cody(Total Drama Island)- Somewhere around here, I think I had a crush on him(?)

Shrignold(Don't Hug Me I'm Scared)- 7/8

Balloon Boy(Five Nights at Freddy's 2)- 8/9

Cuddles(Happy Tree Friends)- 12(look it didn't last long I promise-)

Blue(Dick Figures)- 12

Hayato Shinoymia(Kiss Him, Not Me!)- 11/12

Tomura Shigaraki(My Hero Academia)- 13

Angel Dust(Hazbin Hotel)- 13

Whitty(Friday Night Funkin' Mod)- 14(lasted less than a week)

Senpai(Friday Night Funkin')- 14

Tom(Eddsworld)- 14

Everybody do the flop guy(ASDFmovie)- 15(uh I can explain/ref)

Art Posabule(Moral Orel)- 15

Clay Puppington(Moral Orel) -15(looks only)

Mr. Cartsen(Moral Orel)- 15

Holden Caulfield(The Catcher in the Rye)- 15

Big Ian(Don't Hug Me I'm Scared: Wakey Wakey)- 15

Warren the Eagle(Don't Hug Me I'm Scared)- 15

Jack in the Box mascot(Jack in the Box)- 15

Mac Tonight mascot(McDonalds)- 15(kindaish idk, I like the mascot not the symbol he turned into)

Ron(Inside Job)- 15

Coffin(Don't Hug Me I'm Scared)- 15(didn't last very long but yknow)

Jack Horner(Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)- 16

Boardy(Shovelware's brain games)- 16(it was the voice I promise-kinda-)

Chaz(Helluva Boss)- 16

Tybalt(Gnomeo and Juliet)- 16

The Praetorian(Super Crooks)- 16

Glasses guy who needs to piss(Taxi Master)- 16(idk he was never given a name)

Onceler(The Lorax)- 16(of course, my bbg ever <333)

Jojo(Horton Hears a Who)- 16(idk if I still like him or not but he is silly :p)

Erm yea!! That's all the ones that lasted long enough for me to remember!! :D

As you might tell I kinda have a reoccurring type of assholes/villians/generally pessimistic. Couldn't tell ya why and you're free to judge me as much as you want lol

#childs play #finn mertins #adventure time #total drama island #dont hug me im scared #five nights at freddy's #happy tree friends #dick figures #hayato shinoyima #kiss him not me #tomura shiragaki #my hero academia #hazbin hotel #friday night funkin #eddsworld #asdfmovie #moral orel #the catcher in the rye #wakey wakey #jack in the box #mac tonight #inside job #puss in boots: the last wish #shovelwares brain game #helluva boss #gnomeo and juliet #super crooks #taxi master #the lorax 2012 #horton hears a who

[leonisdumbasallhell]

I hope this isn't too random but I wanted to say that seeing your sketch lines through your work has really made me feel better about my own. I used to hate seeing my sketch through my colors when I did traditional art to the point where I just didn't draw on paper anymore, but you've inspired me to feel less bad about it and try to pick it back up again. So. Thank you :)

This is not random at all! That makes me really happy to hear! I used to really hate my sketch lines too, i thought they were really ugly, and I’d try to erase them and my ink would smudge and i’d get really frustrated and discouraged. but then I started using colored pencil to sketch and i thought it just looked so pretty and alive, and trying to erase it made things look messier so i just said?? Why not leave them??? And now It’s become probably the most recognizable part of my style lol.

For you, though, I want to say this: i love seeing the person behind the art. And I don’t mean like. The physical person, i mean the evidence that you made this thing. I love construction lines on paper, fingerprints in clay, cat hair in paint, because it’s physical evidence of the person who made it. There’s van gogh paintings that have grasshopper legs stuck in them because he was painting outside!! Isn’t that just so lovely??? That even after all this time we can see in the painting that he was outside when he painted it! But Especially construction lines, i think they’re so lovely, because you can see the thought process behind what’s being illustrated. I can see when someone changed their mind, or adjusted proportions, and it’s so wonderful!! It’s like i’m having a conversation about what the process was just by looking at the art! Please don’t feel bad about your art displaying your hand in its making, because it proves you were there! even if you think it doesn’t look very good, i promise someone will find it beautiful! So keep drawing and learning!! I would love to see your sketches :3

#ask #🔪 lore