#i dunno if this is even part of it yet but i wrote it and i dunno where to go with it yet so you can have this thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tinandabin · 3 months

Text

SAGAU but the the reader is the ACTUAL creator

Thorny love: part 5

Previous part: part 4

a/n: am I back from the dead? I dunno, but yesterday night I felt like writing and wrote another part. so, I decided to publish it here also!

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"Yo-Your Grace... You are finally here.." Ei spoke, her eyes wide and her legs shaking a bit. It almost looked like she was gonna cry. However, her face hardened up as soon as more people started gathering around you and her. Perhaps, you were the only one to catch a glimpse of her expression. She is an Archon, she too has a reputation to uphold in Inazuma, after all. "Hello, Ei. How have you been?" You smiled at her, hand going up to ruffle her hair. Revelyn still hadn't let go of your robe, her hold on it tightened a bit.

Ei's breath hitched as soon as your hand messed with her hair. "I'm..." She tried to find the right words to express her feelings, but she couldn't. How can she explain that she felt as if a part of her had been torn from her when you left her? It felt as if...she had been plunged into never-ending despair and loneliness. She missed you, very dearly. The place where her heart should have been, felt strangely empty without your embrace, your smile, your eyes, you.

Your hand retreated soon enough, "You don't have to answer, Ei." You gently told her, sensing her inner turmoil. It hurt you to leave your creations suffering and in agony, it truly did so. But some actions are sadly enough, necessary.

Ei smiled and nodded, hand coming to hold yours when she saw another hand grasping your robe. Immediately, she looked at the culprit only to see the face of the impostor. How dare she even show her face here after all she did? The thought made her scoff. She not only deceived the Archons but even you. The nerve of some people.. And now she acts all angelic and needy when you show up? But of course, Ei won't say anything. Not in front of you.

"And who might be the coward behind you, Your Grace?" Ei gestured towards Revelyn behind you. You smiled beamingly, gently prying Revelyn from behind you. "Oh, come now, Ei, you don't remember her?" You asked her innocently, quickly realizing the jab she was throwing towards Revelyn, but brushing it off. You don't wish for an argument to start over here, of all places.

Ei stared at Revelyn for a moment, taking your hint to not taunt her. "I do, Your Grace. How could I not?"

"I'm glad to know so, " You put your hands on Revelyn's shoulder, your touch sending an electrifying shock of pleasure through her body. "Everyone misunderstood Revelyn. She's a very sweet and angelic girl. I'm sure she will fit right back in, hm?"

Revelyn stood awkwardly, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. She decided to keep up her act of cowardice until you left. "Um.. Hi," Her meek voice spoke up, a slight tremble to it. She batted her eyelashes at Ei, smiling softly. "I'm Revelyn.. Revelyn Aniela. "

The surname struck some nostalgic feeling inside you. You had a brief feeling that perhaps you had heard this somewhere before, that perhaps someone dear to you held the same surname. Someone close to your heart, your mind, your soul- but who? Who was that? You can't recall. Aniela. Aniela. Aniela. So familiar, yet so distinct. Maybe it was simply the name of a friend long gone, you would love to give yourself this benefit of doubt, but you're not the kind of person to do that. You're the Creator for fuck's sake, if you're remembering something, then that must be because it's important! It was of significance, you wouldn't just remember a random surname, right? Right...?

You shook your head, deciding you're indeed giving yourself the benefit of the doubt because you're too old to deal with this detective stuff. Frankly enough, if you think about it more, you'll probably just get a headache. Best to leave it be, now. You'll just ask Seraphina to play detective, like always. You cleared your throat. "So, what are we waiting for? Shall we go?"

Ei nodded right away, grabbing your hand and Intertwining your fingers. "As you wish, Your Grace. "

Revelyn was left behind to catch up.

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A few days passed in Inazuma without much commotion. You spent most of the time with Ei, Revelyn of course stuck around so long as you were there. Personally, you were tired of both of them. They need to stop clinging to you like you're their mother. Ei, you understood why she clinged to you, considering she didn't see you for months on end, but Revelyn, who lived with you for like... the past month, it wasn't very understandable. Lile be for real, Revelyn. You not tired yet? Like. Girl. Stop embarrassing yourself and get some self respect and go where you're actually wanted.

So, for both your sanity and their's (Lie), you decided to leave both of them together to socialize and become the best of best friends. (Lie. You just wanted time to yourself and wanted to meet Yae Miko.) Of course, you were, for the first time, surprised to see both Ei and Revelyn unite together. Merely for the purpose of notetting you leave but hey, progress! They atleast united for a common goal, no matter how troublesome that may be for you.

Their combined forces weren't enough to deter you, in the end, you won and they were forced to talk to each other or sulk together, or maybe, a rare possibility, but have a heated make-out session. Who knows. Whatever works, works. They're on their own now and you're on your own, to meet Yae Miko and have a heated make-out session with her perhaps. It won't happen, maybe, but the thought is entertaining though. You're like, 93% certain Miko would agree if you asked. It's not like she hasn't suggested that before. Ah, enough thoughts. You're here.

"Good grace, it's such a heavy task to climb these hills to just be graced by your presence, Miko, " You let out a whine, leaning against one of thr shrine. "You should know my old bones can't hold for long-" A book was placed against your lips and a fluffy, really fluffy and soft, tail caressed your thigh sneakily. "My my, Your Divinity, you ought to know, I don't fancy you saying those words. You look very beautiful, and ravishing, might I add. " Yae Miko said, leaning in close to you with a smirk on her face.

You placed a hand on her wrist, gently removing the book. "I'm happy you think so, but might I say, you look even more delightful, " You replied back with a grin. This flirty playful banter was always your favorite thing to do in Inazuma, apart from watching Revelyn and Ei be at their throats, of course. "Oh please, Your Divinity, you flatter me. But we both know, you're the most beautiful-" You placed a finger on her lips. "Ahhh, shhh. Nothing more to speak of this topic. You can't argue with me on this, you're, of course, the most stunning woman in Inazuma, "

Miko let out an offended gasp, "Inazuma only? Is that my beauty's worth to you, Your Divinity? I'm offended, " She pouted, clearly putting up an act just for you.

"No no, my dear. I meant in whole Teyvat. It would be a crime for me to think your beauty isn't other worldly, "

And this playful banter continued on.

_________

On the other side, Revelyn and Ei were indeed having a heated make-out session. Not the kind you're thinking of.

"Oh, so as soon as my graceful creator leaves, you suddenly drop the act of cowardice?" Ei stared at Revelyn, a cold and unrelenting aura around her.

"Your creator...? Psssh," Revelyn let out a mocking laugh, "Please. Your words are blatantly false!" She glared at Ei, her fists clenching at her sides.

"Shut up, you witch, you casted a spell of sorts on my graceful creator, didn't you? That's why she is completely and utterly fooled by you!"

"Oh? I'll cast a spell on you too and turn you into a monkey if you don't shut up!"

You walked in with a smile. "Guys. I just had a make-out session with Miko-"

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a/n: hi! if yr name is cut, then that means I couldn't tag you. if in the next part I won't be able to tag you, then your name will be removed from the taglist. please ask me to tag you again in the LATEST part to be readded to the taglist! thank you (❁´◡`❁)

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vacayisland · 5 months

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I have the largest hyper fixation on Floyd right now. Funny little troll being way too cute for it to be legal.

do you think you could write a story where a male / Non-binary reader that's like, a large person thing, (You can make them part animal if possible, I like the idea of Floyd hiding in the readers fur for comfort.) is reunited with Floyd after he was stick in the diamond perfume bottle for 2 months. And they just give Floyd a bunch of comfort cuddles and other stuff.

Take all the time you need to rest and drink water, if you can't do my request, that's perfectly fine. I hope you have an amazing day / night!

-A non-binary bee 🐝

@!; Floyd with a part-animal Reader! Floyd / Half-animal! Half-Troll! Reader

"Summary"! Couldn't tell if you meant big like tall or big like cubby... so why not both? :D Anyways, there are more headcanon style with little stories in it. Dunno when I'll post this (I have like 5 other stories backed up b/c my mind can't decide what to write); But I hope you like it Bee! Tags! Floyd literally being everything, no pronouns mentioned so feel free to use your own, hurt-comfort, NOT PROOF READ... also wrote in one sitting... in one day. AND TUMBLR KEPT GLITCHING ON ME AND THE PITCTURE BORDER ISN'T WORKING ON DESKTOP-. anyways please enjoy <3

@!; Floyd has known you since his band days, which was a shock to his brothers when they finally met you. Not only are you taller than an average troll (a foot or so) yet you're also different; and mostly in a good way, but take what you will about the fact that Branch noticed your differences first. When Floyd first met you, it was 2 months into his boyband career with Brozone. He went out on a walk to clear his head before a big show, anxious feels were never good to go on stage with and his brothers didn't help much. Mostly John Dory, who kept speaking about his "perfect" plan to the show. Just thinking about messing up anything made Floyd more nervous than preforming, he really didn't want to let his brothers down; as he's seen them preform before he was able to join on the scene. So while JD ranted, Spruce worked out, and Clay was fitting into his costume, Floyd went out on a needed walk. That's when he found you;

You were stood up top a mountain cliff near the Pop troll village, looking down with your majestic eyes and ears relaxed down by your side. Floyd stood by the village though hid in the shade of the plants nearby to watch. He didn't want to scare you off, especially since he's never seen anything quite like you. You seemed memorized by the lights of the Pop troll village, if not maybe a little intoxicated by them; like a moth to the flame. Floyd was memorized by your shiny coat, which he could barely see against the night sky and the bright colors of the village. You didn't seem to notice him at all as you laid down at that cliff, crossing your paws and laying your muzzle down on them. Floyd wasn't sure why but watching you watching the lights of the village calmed his nerves. Even though it was still a little nerve racking thinking that an animal so big knows were the village was; an animal who could possibly eat Trolls. Yet, that thought was quickly wavering out of his mind the more passive you seemed. @!; Floyd almost missed the show that night, Spruce had to go find him before JD blew a fuse. He was questioned like hell the few seconds before the show and then afterwards, yet he couldn't exactly tell his brothers that he saw an animal watching the village and that's what he was doing. They would be both over worried and a little relentless in scolding him for getting so close to something that could eat trolls. His absence of an answer, and his general dodging of the brothers questions (when that was so not like Floyd) led them all to assume that Floyd met a Troll that had caught his eye. Floyd tried to protest against this, yet was a little flustered at the fact that all his brothers seemed to jump on that conclusion train so quickly. So, that only solidified his brother's theories more and thus began the hunt. All his brothers kept an extra eye on Floyd, trying to see who the lucky Troll had been who caught there ever so sensitive brother's eyes. Despite all their "sneaky" tracking and slight stalking, they came up with nothing. Floyd was determined to let them not know what, or maybe who, he actually saw that night. So he didn't see you again until his brothers gave up on their little hunt and let Floyd to his own devices. Especially after he almost messed up a show due to nerves from not being able to go out on a walk without his brother's bombardment; JD wasn't happy. 3 months after first seeing you, Floyd was able to catch a glimpse of you again. Before a show, he looked out the window (not needing to go out on a walk that night) and saw your figure again in the distance on the same hill. You were relaxed again, laying down and looking intently towards the Village. In some weird sense, Floyd had a funny thought that you were here to listen to the concert; seeing as he didn't see you on any other night than concert nights. Yet, he shook that thought out of his head really quick, not thinking that you could like Brozone music. Not that it was because you weren't a Troll, but because he thought it was too loud for your ears; he's read somewhere that animal ears tended to be more sensitive than Troll ears. But then why would you be so close to the Village? The thought stuck in Floyd's mind all throughout the performance and when he checked if you were still at the cliff after the show, you were gone. He couldn't tell if it was because of the noise or because the show had ended; but he felt a little disheartened.

@!; Floyd would play this one-sided game of eye-spy for months before he spotted a night when you weren't you. He had began to make it a habit to leave you a little plate of food (well little for you) before every Brozone performance. His personal thank you for watching the show despite your (maybe) sensitives ears. He was going to go place the plate of food at the top of the cliff when he stopped midway through his hike to see a Troll standing at the top of the cliff. At least, it looked like a Troll? Yet they seemed taller, even more so when Floyd slowly approached closer. Your hair also was more abundant than other Trolls, even for adults. He was cautious as he approached you, keeping the plate of food close to him as he tried to scope out who you were before he interacted. Yet before he could figure out who you were, you snapped your head around to stare into the dead of night . . . directly at him. Floyd froze, not sure if you could see him or not and not wanting to find out. Though it was light you weren't even a Troll for a second, taking in a sniff before your hair stood up for a moment; prickling like a cat's hair standing up when frightened. Slowly you approached him with heavy footsteps, your height slowly growing in the moonlight as your shadow was drawn out. For a moment Floyd thought he was as good as dead. He didn't know what to do! Frazzled, he quickly shoved out the plate of food he had indented for his friend and not this stranger about to commit (possible) cannibalism. And that's when he heard your footsteps come to a stop and a heavy huff from someone's nose hit the top of his head, causing him to cautiously open one eye. And he felt like fainting as soon as he did that. Though he couldn't help opening both eyes in complete terror seeing a Troll tower over him in an unnatural height. Your eyes pierced down at him, their glow in the moonlight somehow familiar yet Floyd could not piece it together at this moment of panic. "Please don't eat me!" Floyd blurted out, the only thing between him and you being a plate of food. Yet you didn't answer, at least not right away. Your silence was as terrifying as your glare and staggering height. "I promise you I don't taste good!-" The words fell out before Floyd had even realized he had said them, watching with terror as you leant down. He wasn't sure what you were doing, but he hoped it wasn't serving your next meal's horror before deciding whether or not you should eat him. Yet there was something in your eyes that softened, a small smile that seemed to creep onto your lips. And for once after meeting you in this form, Floyd felt like he wasn't going to get mauled. Which was a good thing, a really good thing... For him at least. "So you're the one who's been leaving me food!" Your voice was not at all how he imagined it, as it seemed to carry some sort of friendliness he's not even heard from some Trolls. It was also a bit rougher, your English oddly unperfected for a Troll for the age Floyd guessed you were. "I-.. uh, what?" Though what did you mean Floyd was leaving you food? Maybe you were confusing him for someone else, or maybe you were eating the food he intended for his friend. Either way he tried to clear the confusion, "I'm sorry no, I don't think so. I've been leaving food here for.." "Yes, for me." You interrupted Floyd before he could finish, giving him a rather big grin. Yet, no matter how friendly you seemed, your words caused him to become that more confuddled. Even more so when you held out your hands flat, as though you were expected Floyd to just hand you the plate ... really incorrectly. He thought for a brief moment that you may be related to the animal that perches itself at the cliffside, though he didn't think too long on that possibility; as would it even be possible?

Either way, to save some trouble for now, Floyd carefully handed you the plate of food; watching as you held it from the bottom flat in your hands and grinned brighter before rushing off to the side of the cliff. He wasn't sure if he should follow you or not. "Come, friend! We eat to show!" You gestured for Floyd to follow as you sat at the iconic cliff he's seen the animal so many times. And despite his hesitation, and his logicality telling him not to, he deiced to join the Troll. I mean, what could be the harm? Floyd almost missed his performance that day. JD wasn't happy yet, oddly enough, something inside Floyd made him rather indifferent. Not uncaring, because he always cared about his brothers feelings and letting down JD was last on his list; yet, he didn't care as much as he should have. And that caught him by suprise. He wondered if it had to do something with you...

@!; The day the band broke up, Floyd went to seek you first. You two had grown close after the countless nights you spent upon the cliff, chatting and eating. Floyd just couldn't stand being able to leave without giving you a proper goodbye, you have been his closest friend outside his family after all. He found you lower on the cliff this day, still stalking in your animal form. Your ears were completely pinned back, and he was sure you had saw what had happened during that performance; it was the biggest disaster storm ever. "Hey! H-" Floyd didn't even have to call you twice before you perked up, snapping your attention over to him. He grew sheepish seeing your sudden smile, and he could only guess you had been utterly worried about him since the performance. Though he didn't expect you to be so worried you would bound towards him on all fours, causing him to yelp and quickly brace for impact. Yet, you never hit, and Floyd heard as you skidded yourself to a stop right in front of him and plopped down on your bottom. Letting out an excited yelp before licking him once, then twice. Causing him to laugh and try to push your snout away, a silent signal for you to turn back into a Troll. Which you didn't seem to get the hint for instantly, as you licked him thrice before standing up and twirling in a circle. Laughing, Floyd covered his eyes and let you turn back, opening them only when he heard your voice again; "Floyd! What in the hell happened out there?! One minute you guys were doing fine and it seemed like-" Your voice was as lovely as ever, and Floyd instantly felt a pang in his heart knowing he wouldn't be able to hear it as often anymore. His face became rather gloomy at that sudden realization he hadn't thought of before now. Maybe visiting you wasn't- no, he can't think like that! You deserved the truth as much as Branch did. He can't simply walk off and keep you sitting here, watching and wondering where he had gone for years on end. That wasn't right. "(y/n)!" Floyd jolted at the suddenness of his voice, and how firm it sounded. He didn't mean for his words to come out so harsh, though your ranting didn't do much to help his heart... or the decision he knew he had to make. Oh and your eyes, the way they shone in the moonlight. Floyd could see how startled he had made you, as he's never used such a voice with you; yet it had done the job and hushed you up, even for now. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you. I just-" Floyd's lip twitched as he thought for the easiest way to blow this to you. The easiest way to let you down after all the nights you had spent together. The easiest way for him to accept everything that was happening and everything he had to do and everything that needed to be done.. but oh poor Branch and poor you, neither of you deserved this- "Floyd.. it's okay." Floyd was brought back to his thoughts, snapped back with the feeling of your hands grabbing his and your voice echoing in his ears. He opened his seized eyes and glanced up at yours; you were leaning down again, and Floyd laughed through the tears he didn't realize were spilling down. "You're doing it again.." Floyd mumbled, his voice wobbly. Your hands raced to his cheeks, cupping them and undoubtably feeling the hot, wet tears streaming down as you began to clear them. Floyd dropped his hands to his sides, they felt all to heavy right now. "No you're doing it again." Your voice was uncharacteristically steady, none if it's usual fluctuating like a dog excited to see it's owner. "You're overthinking and... and thinking of everyone else before you think about yourself! Floyd, whatever you're going to say to me, whatever you're keeping in that mind of yourself, you're going to tell me now, okay? And you're going to tell me and you're not going to worry about how I feel and you're going to be firm on your decision... because you're strong and we're friends and I won't be mad with you no matter what you tell me."

@!; That night, Floyd knew, for sure, that he was in love with you. And that made telling you all that harder as his heart yelled at his brain to stay, but his brain knew that they couldn't go back on their choice. He had to leave, even if for a week or month or year. He knew he needed space from the Village and everyone inside.. but not you and Branch. Defiantly not you. And oh the broken look in your eyes got him, but the way you tried to smile through it and agree that the space is what he needed made him fall even more in love. You were so strong, you kept to your word... Maybe Floyd could stay one more night. And he did, he cuddled up with you for his last night in the Village; you both watched the stars, all cozied up in your hair. And god, has Floyd never felt a Troll's' hair so soft. He almost couldn't pull himself out from it in the morning when you were still clinging onto him, trapping him with both your body and your hair. He felt tempted to doze back to sleep, yet knew he had to leave now (while he still had the will power) then wait before you woke up. He knew if he saw your broken look again, that look in your eyes that you could never hide, he couldn't bring himself to leave. So when you woke up in the morning, you found yourself alone; completely alone in a middle of your blanket made of your hair. Floyd had left before you had woke up and you would find yourself sulking in that position for longer than you would have thought.

@!; You didn't see Floyd again, yet you heard from him up till a few years into his exploration of the unknown; journeying to find himself in the chaotic world beyond the village. You didn't leave from the outskirts of the Pop village, as that's were you had figured out you could thrive the most without interacting with other Trolls or animals. So when Floyd's letters began to run dry, you knew it wasn't because he didn't know where to send it. No that's never been a problem before, especially with the bugs that were used to deliver the messages so they never went through Troll post. You had first thought that he had forgotten to write a letter that day and he would send you one tomorrow. He didn't. You then figured he was just somewhere where he couldn't right or get a bug to deliver the letter. But after a month of sitting and waiting anxiously, you figured that couldn't be the reason either. Floyd never stayed in a place for this long, and the letter he had sent you last made it sound like he was going to a place where he could continue to send letters. Another option came to mind, what if Floyd had just stopped sending letter because he just grew tired of you? He found someone else who captured his attention better than you did! Who could write in pretty cursive and spell words and speak correctly. Who could bake for him pies and cupcakes, who could sing and dance with him in the proper way that a Troll could. That was the first day you ever felt truly alone ever since Floyd left. Sure, you missed him dearly; Missed his smile and his caring ways and his company but never did you ever feel truly lonely. The type of lonely that made you upset and aggravated. The type of lonely that stung more than a throne in your paw, or a bee sting. The type of lonely that made you think back on all the memories you had with Floyd and made you think two different thoughts all at once: What was the point? Can I get those times back? It was torture. Two months of agonizing torture that ate you up inside with no remorse.

@!; Two months inside that horrible diamond prison, Floyd was finally free. Sure he had some white in his hair now, and felt fatigue come onto him easier when singing, but he was free; Free and with his brothers heading back to the Pop Troll village where Brozone (kind of reestablished) was going to chill for a minute before maybe going back their separate ways. "Oh my god, did we ever tell you that Floyd use to have a crush in the village when he was younger?!" JD turned around from the console of his caterpillar-like trailer, a snicker plastered right across his face. His comment instantly flipped the attention of everyone else, who had been lounging around the 'living space' of the trailer and chatting about nothing exciting. At least, nothing exciting to John Dory. "Oh! I almost forgot about that!" Bruce started as Branch looked between his brothers, noticing as Floyd let out a small groan and covered his face. "Oh not this gain..." Floyd mumbled, though not completely under his breath. "What?! JD you have to be joking right now!" Poppy jumped to a start, Viva seemed to be right beside her; jumping to her sister's side, placing her hands on Poppy's shoulders with such interest you would think JD had just brought up party plans. "Oh I'm so not joking." JD couldn't help but laugh, crossing his arms. "Floyd used to sneak off before the start of every show and see his little crush! It was so cute." And there was the teasing tone that Floyd could never forget. He hadn't hoped they didn't bring up this topic, but now he wished he had begged on his knees to anything above that his brothers had forgotten. "Oooh~ Floyd! Who was the lucky troll?" Viva questioned, mirroring her sister's excitement yet with a slight more mature feeling. "Well-" Floyd couldn't even begin before JD took over again. "We never got the chance to see them!" "Oh yeah, and we tried hard too. Stalked Floyd anytime he went out to see if we could find any sort of glimpse on who this Troll was. But we never found them." Clay informed, leaning back against the couch as an amused glint crossed his eyes; he glanced over to Floyd, who was still hiding his head. "Can we PLEASE change the topic?!" Floyd begged, but he guessed that his humiliation was much too entertaining to his brothers (mostly JD). "Nope! Never got the chance to see them. It was like- the biggest mystery in all of BroZone history." JD made this sound more ominous than it needed to be. More mysterious than a unclosed murder case that was more boggling than answerable. His serious tone didn't help it either. "Oh my god, Viva!-" Poppy turned to her sister, who held a knowing look. "To the clue board?" "To the clue board! Don't worry we'll find this troll." Poppy exploded like a star as Viva and her rushed over to the clue board that Branch had set up. They didn't waste time before they began to excitedly chat over possibly candidates and theories. Floyd felt more embarrassed than the day his brothers had started that whole mess, and he wasn't sure how that was even possible! Branch watched the two sisters for a moment before turning over to his brothers, thoroughly confused, "Wait... why did no one tell me this?!"

@!; Floyd wasn't sure how he would break this news to his brothers, but all he knew is that he needed to get to you first. He knew you just as you knew him, and he knew his disappearance would have a cause for concern... or maybe alarm or distress. Everything that Floyd didn't want you to feel when you thought about him because he should be your safe space and you had been his. "Guys! I'll be right back." Floyd shouted to his brothers when the caterpillar bus had came to a stop in front of the Pop village; And Floyd was sure he literally flew out the door with more force than necessary before he began to run down the village. "Bring them home for dinner!" Floyd could hear JD's sly remark before he was no longer in earshot of the van. Though he was sure he could hear something about "Kids growing up too fast" and some shared lighthearted laughter. Floyd couldn't care at the moment; not when all his brain buzzed about was finding you and making sure you were okay. What if you had gotten hurt during your time of no communication. What if you began to think that Floyd no longer cared for you or that something had happened to your or- Floyd's mind raced faster than he could keep up with and it felt like he was no longer racing against time yet against his own thoughts; not thinking about the fact that he had crossed the village in record time or that his brothers watched him rush straight into the woods by that cliff he had found a friend on and then love. That cliff where he had stargazed with you and shared thoughts he hadn't shared with anyone else. That cliff where you had showed him your way of life and let him closer than any other Troll had been with you. That cliff were everything happened in a secret silence that felt just right. That cliff were time seemed to stop. That cliff where he first found your eyes and saw your face last when he left. That cliff.. That cliff. That cliff!- Floyd was jolted away from the edge of the cliff, something he didn't realize he was just about to run off due to being lost in his emotion. A firm grip on the back of his pants had yanked him away, throwing him down onto the floor as now someone was between him and that cliff. "Are you crazy?! You were about to throw yourself off!-" Floyd didn't expect his baby brother's voice to shout at him and snap him out of his flurry of thoughts. He didn't expect Branch to be the one to stand there between him and the cliff. It was meant to be you. Not that he was meaning to throw himself off a cliff to find you, he would never put that type of trauma onto anyone or even think about such as thing. But you were meant to be here, meant to greet him on this cliff, meant to... where were you? Floyd didn't answer his brother as he scrambled onto his feet, numb from the running. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care. He began to look around frantically, up and down the cliff, left and right. He rushed to some bushed and trees and tried looking more in depth as Branch stood there; never having seen his brother so disorientated and frazzled. "Floyd? Floyd!" Branch tried to get his brother's attention, "Floyd what are you looking for?" You. Where were you? Floyd didn't realize he didn't answer his brother; he had thought he had, but he didn't. He simply jumped off a rock and to the lower side of the cliff before he continued his search. Branch cautiously followed him, slowly lowering himself down from the rock and onto the ground. He watched Floyd look everywhere before Floyd jolted to a stop and stared in front of him. "(Y/N)!" It was a pained cry as Floyd rushed forward, pushing himself off of a tree to give himself a boost. "Floyd!" Branch yelled, following his brother in a panic. "Floyd you can't run into the forest around the village they're dangerous! Flo-" And Branch paused seeing who his brother approached. "Floyd!"

Floyd had no hesitation rushing over to an enormous beast that laid in the middle of a field, soaking in the sun. The beast had clear patches of its fur bitten off, and Branch couldn't tell whether it was self inflicted due to nerves or if it was from a fight. It perked its ears, then its head as it heard Floyd' shouting. It scanned the field and Branch felt himself rushing over to his brother. "FLOYD!" Branch's yell fell short as he saw the beast jump to its paws and rush over to his brother. Branch felt adrenaline rush through his body as he was sure he was about to watch his brother get eaten by a rapid animal. And Branch wasn't in range to catch the beast's muzzle with his hair, and Branch was sure that Floyd wouldn't attack it for whatever reason, and- wait... what? Branch kicked up dirt as he skidded to a stop, watching at the beast popped into an unusually tall Troll who grabbed Floyd in bear hug before spinning the two around. Branch watched with so much bewilderment that he questioned what JD had put in the drink he had given him. He had to be seeing things. That beast didn't just transform into a troll, right? Branch let out an airy bit of laughter as he watched the taller Troll trip on their own legs, causing the two of them to crash down and laugh loudly. Laugh like long lost lovers or crushes who had just found each other again, some sort of star-crossed lovers situation you would only find in books. Branch let out a small huff before carefully walking over to Floyd and you on the floor, laughing like maniacs. "What happened to you?!" Floyd reached up to cup your cheeks, worry rushing to his eyes as he noticed the bits of your hair that were fried and clearly chewed off. "No! No what happened to you?!" Sure, maybe you should have answered Floyd's question before asking one but you were too worried! This man disappears off the face of the planet for 2 months with no explanation then comes back like nothing ever happened?! You wouldn't stand for it, nor would you sit or lay for it either. Your hands rushed up to his, cupping over his hands which were cupping your cheeks. "I asked the question question first!" Quipped Floyd with a cheeky, beaming grin. Oh, how you've missed that grin so much. You could just squish his cheeks and kiss him at this moment. "I'll tell you what happened to me when you explain what happened to you." "Dea-" "How about you both explain what is happening?" Branch cut in, standing nearby with crossed arms and an amused smile. Floyd shot his head up, you simply turned to the side, to see that smile and oh- Floyd for a moment thought Branch was about to use this for some sort of blackmail against their brothers. "Branch!" Floyd sat up with a startle, having forgotten his brother had been here... and that he kind of saved Floyd from running off a cliff earlier. "Who are you?" Floyd heard you ask from under him and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do in that moment. But hey, if all he had to do was introduce you to his family, and hope they would accept you for your differences, then he would do that. He would do that and more to be able to be next to you, in your arms and in your reach. He would do anything to be able to keep you close. And next time he left the village, Floyd was not leaving without you.

@!; BONUS SNIPIT

"Wait, so you're telling me you got captured by some evil green-haired people who put you into a glass bottle made of diamonds and the only way you escapes is because your family made the 'perfect family harmony'?" You asked Floyd with a childlike wonder and a mature skepticism. You both were laying in Floyd's bed, inside his bod, as crickets chirped outside a sweet melody of the night. Floyd knew it sounded unbelievable but, "I'm telling you, this story is 100 percent real." Floyd couldn't help but keep in his laughter at your expressive wide eyes. Taking advantaged of your bewilderment of the situation, Floyd attacked you by snuggling closer; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, resting his head against your chest. He didn't have to look up at you to know you were cocking your eyebrow up in a questioning way, trying to think the logistics of the story over in your head. Yet you still wrapped your arms around Floyd's back, your hair stretching out to wrap the both of you in its fuzzy and cozy warmth. Floyd let out a deep sigh, you felt it against your chest; he missed these moments, and you did too. Moments that seemed to stand still, yet not in a boring way. In a way where Floyd got to soak up every second of being with you, and you got to soak up every second with him. Where you could feel like time was racing by, yet checked and it had only been a few minutes and you had more time to cuddle and just talk and be together than you had thought. Moments like these were the best feeling in the world. "I still don't believe you." You jokingly poke Floyd in the back, causing him to yelp and arch away from your pointy nail. You watched as he looked up at you with the most playfully challenging look; an eyebrow cocked upwards and his eyes glittering in the small light of the dimmed lamp. "Well it happened! I don't know what to tell you." He sassed back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner before he laid his head back against your chest. You tightened your arms around Floyd, which caused him to smile softly. No matter what happened, what had happened. Floyd was back now and neither of you were leaving each others side again; at least not now or in the near future unless it was forced.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#brozone x reader #floyd trolls x reader #trolls band together #floyd x reader #floyd trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fandom #trolls 3 #trolls #trolls dreamworks #brozone #clay trolls #trolls world tour #queen poppy #trolls branch

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b0r3dtod3ath · 3 months

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hi! could i req lando x old money!reader blurb? maybe like meeting her parents, or going to her father’s annual christmas gala together, i dunno..

thanks!!

A/N: Hii! Omg I love this idea. Actually it popped up in my brain last summer but I never really wrote it so big thanks for requesting! Let me know if any of you are interested in a part two!

Word count: ~1.8k

Saint Tropez - one of the most popular places in French Riviera. Known for its beautiful weather, sun-kissed beaches and picturesque landscape. Every summer Y/N's family would spend at least a month there. Cruising on a yacht and resting in a mansion could get quite boring when done alone so last summer Y/N's parents invited the Norisses. The two families had been friends since the early 2000s, famously attending many high-society galas and events. Their kids used to know each other but haven't met in a long time due to their hectic lives. Lando would be a bit ashamed to admit but he was excited to spend his summer break there. Being with his parents made him feel like a teenager again. Not only that but also the fact that he couldn't wait to meet Y/N. He had heard about her from his sisters but in fact, has little to no memories of her.

As the families met at the dock, the yacht swaying in the background, the two couples hugged and laughed leaving the young ones to awkwardly greet each other. Y/N, taking off her sunglasses that protected her eyes from the sun reflecting in the blue water, approached with a subtle smile that held a hint of curiosity. She extended her hand, a gesture in a formal but warm manner. "Lando, isn't it?" her melodic voice hit her companion's ears. Lando, with his easy charm and green-blue eyes that would make most of the ladies lose their minds, clasped her hand in a firm yet gentle handshake. "That's right. A pleasure to finally meet you." His words were accompanied by a genuine smile, a sigh of relief.

The first evening brought the families together for a two-family dinner on the yacht's deck. The air was infused with the scent of sea salt and the warm sun was just to set. The table, covered with crystal and silverware, glowed in the soft light of candles. Y/N and Lando found themselves seated next to each other, their parents subtly orchestrating the arrangement. At first, they didn't talk to each other much - focusing mainly on the food and wine while also encouraging their parents to tell some stories from when they were young. The two of them exchanged glances and smiles still waiting for the other one to make the first move. After the last course, as the dessert and coffee reached its end, Lando found a moment to break away. Leaning towards Y/N, he suggested, "Would you care for a stroll around the yacht? The night is too beautiful to be just sitting here.". With a subtle spark in her eyes, Y/N agreed. The two of them excused themselves as they slipped away from their parents.

Under the moonlit sky, Y/N and Lando strolled along the yacht's deck, the soft glow of the ship's lights casting a warm ambience. The Mediterranean breeze whispered through the night, and the distant sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They paused at the railing, the yacht gently rocking beneath them. Y/N leaned on the side, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Lando joined her, the moon casting a silvery glow on his face. As the conversation flowed, they peeled away the layers of their lives, revealing dreams and aspirations. They went from talking about Lando's work to more deep, secret thoughts and feelings. Y/N wanted to avoid the Formula One subject, she knew who he was but didn't want him to think that it was a category she put him in. She spoke about her love for literature, and although Lando didn't have much to say in this field he was more than happy to listen. He found himself getting lost in her beauty as she shared about her passion. The night held an intimacy, a shared exploration of vulnerabilities. Y/N, confessed her love for the quiet moments, the beauty found in simplicity. It was surprising to her when Lando agreed with her "I know I'm rather a fast-paced life guy but I feel like my lifestyle allows me to appreciate moments like this even more". Y/N finally looked up from the shiny waves crashing to the side of the boat to see the man next to her looking at her with admiration. They held eye contact and smiled in silence, the chillness of a summer night ignored. That night they both felt a connection forming between them.

A few days later, as no clouds hung over St. Tropez, Y/N found herself once again on the terrace. Immersed in the embrace of a plush chair, she was captivated by the ending of one of the books she found on a bookshelf. Lando, drawn to the lovely scene, approached with a warm smile. "Mind if I sit here with you?" he asked. "Of course, Lan. Please, join me," Y/N responded, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. As he settled into his chair, warm sunlight washed both of their bodies. Y/N, bookmarking her page, looked up with a soft smile. "Have you read 'The Great Gatsby' before?" Lando shook his head, "No, but I've heard it's a classic. What's it about?". Y/N went on trying not to say too much and Lando listened, captivated by the vivid imagery painted by her descriptions. After a comfortable pause, the girl looked into her companion's eyes "You know, they turned this into a movie. How about we watch it together later?" Lando's grin widened at this idea, "That sounds fantastic. I'd love to.". "Great, meet me in my room at 9pm, I will figure out some snacks." she said, got up and left him alone.

Lando found himself standing outside Y/N's bedroom door at 9 sharp. The air was filled with anticipation as he raised his hand to knock. A soft sound of footsteps and the clinking of plates hinted at Y/N's preparations within. Y/N opened the door, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Right on time. Come on in," she welcomed. The aroma of the room was very comforting, Lando couldn't explain it but it reminded him of Y/N a lot. He stepped into the dimly lit space, the flickering light from scented candles creating a cozy ambience. The room was decorated with touches of luxury, reflecting the social status of the family. Y/N, wearing comfortable yet stylish pyjamas, gestured towards the plush seating area she had arranged. "Make yourself at home. The movie is all set up," she said, her enthusiasm evident. As they settled in, the glow from the movie screen bathed the room in a soft luminescence. The cinematic adaptation of "The Great Gatsby" unfolded. Y/N and Lando shared the experience, their thoughts and emotions reflected in the glow of the screen. Throughout the movie, their laughter and shared comments added a layer of connection to the evening. The subtle tension between Gatsby and Daisy echoed in the room, mirroring the unspoken bond developing between Y/N and Lando. As the credits rolled, Y/N turned to Lando with a satisfied smile. "What did you think?" she asked, her eyes searching for his reaction. Lando, his gaze lingering on Y/N, grinned. "It was incredible.". To be honest, he didn't remember half of the movie as a beautiful person next to him captivated his attention. Y/N mirrored his smile. After a pause, Lando asked, "Do you think Gatsby's love for Daisy was genuine, or just an illusion he created?". Y/n leaned back, thinking about the question. "It's a bit of both, I think. Gatsby's love was genuine, but the illusions he created were born out of his desperation to recapture a past that had slipped away." Their discussion flowed seamlessly, weaving through literary analysis and personal interpretations. Deep eye contact was comforting and neither of them wanted to end it. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Maybe we can make this a tradition. You should pick the next movie" she suggested, her eyes holding a promise of more shared movie nights.

And the days passed just like that. On the last night, as the clock struck midnight, the yacht sailed under a blanket of stars, the moon casting its silver glow on the deck. Lando, overwhelmed with his thoughts, wandered outside. The night air was infused with a sense of bittersweet anticipation. There, on the deck, he found Y/N, a alone figure under the dark sky. The distant sound of waves protected them from the silence. Y/N sat in contemplation, a cigarette in hand, the soft moonlight illuminating her features. "Mind if I join you?" Lando's voice cut through the serenity, and Y/N looked up, a small laugh escaped her lips as she retrospected on one of their first interactions. She allowed him to, the smoke from her cigarette to twist into the air. Lando sensed a subtle shift in Y/N's demeanour, a quiet sadness that hung in the air like the sea mist. "You seem a bit distant tonight," he remarked, his eyes tried to focus on the horizon but seemed to be too curious of her. Y/N took a drag of her cigarette, exhaling slowly. "I guess I've been thinking about tomorrow," she confessed, her eyes didn't even dare to look at him as it would cause even more pain. Lando nodded, a shared understanding passing between them. The unspoken bond they had formed over the past weeks had transformed the usually boring yacht trip into a place of shared laughter, quiet conversations, and stolen glances, making both of them feel like stupid teenagers who would sneak around behind their parents' backs. The impending departure, however, indicated an end to this state. "I'll miss this," Y/N admitted, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments. "I don't want this to end just because the trip does," Lando confessed, his voice steady. "Maybe we can explore what this could be beyond St. Tropez. I'd love the chance to continue getting to know you, to see where this could go." Sea, once the witness of shared stories and vulnerability, now observed the promise of possibilities.

Weeks passed since Lando and Y/N parted ways. Mornings felt different for Lando, mainly due to the lack of two things: sun and Y/N. He often catches himself wondering what Y/N could be doing at this very moment. Yes, he could just open Instagram and DM her but he felt like he needed to do something more refined. Although they got to know each other pretty well, he didn't want her to think that he was just a cocky, young fuckboy who wants nothing more than just a body. He had to show her that he truly cared about her. Then, one morning, a letter arrived. The envelope was outstanding, decorated with intricate patterns and sealed with a wax emblem. Lando's heart quickened as he recognized Y/N's handwriting, the anticipation building with each passing moment. As he carefully opened the envelope, Lando realized that their story was far from over. Whatever that envelope contained held the promise of a new beginning, a chance to reignite the spark that had ignited in the hot, summer days. With trembling hands, he opened the letter, his heart racing with anticipation.

my masterlist

here's a fic i wrote last summer that reminds me of this scenario

feb 5 2024

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando Norris imagines

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mikrotyalm13 · 4 months

Text

there could be grammatical errors here 'm sorry i wrote this at like 2am. there's a pretty brief mention of fingering but overall vague description of getting hot'n'bothered & dicked down while watching at yourself through the eyes of a godly creature in a form of a.. i dunno? hypnosis? anyways have fun :З

he hovers over you in the deafening silence of the empty room, his palms holding your face. the eyes on his little wings slowly roll back and close as the feathers twitch faintly... the sight would be haunting for anyone else, but not for you. finally, he bares his countenance and whispers:

"let me into your mind."

and with a simple nod of your head, you let him in. you let him see through your eyes, and in return, he lets you see through his own. he loves to get inside your head, making you watch how he gets you worked up. your mind already left your body by now, but you can still see and feel yourself. even if there's not a single though in your head, just a white noise in the background, you can still feel how he presses his whole body against yours while his hands roam all over your smaller frame. it's suffocating, yet somehow hypnotizing.

you know you're not helpless right now, you can snap back to reality at any point. he doesn't want to overwhelm you too much or do something you wouldn't be comfortable with. but you choose to sink deeper anyway, further into his touch, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and exposed to the creature before you.

he takes it slow at first, allows you to watch how he stretches your pretty cunt with his fingers. the look on your face, combined with your dilated pupils, was so feverishly mesmerising. timid, but so shameless and obvious in expressing your own desires and needs, you writhe weakly on your bed, lips parted in a silent plea that doesn't go unnoticed by gavriil.

by the time he's done with you and carefully leaves your conscience, he's already admiring you from above again. your hair, now messy and tangled, your flushed, sweat-soaked skin. there's nothing more pleasing to him than helping you come back down from your high. as if it wasn't him who stripped you away from every bit of your guilt and shame, ravaging you so intensely immediately afterwards, he gazed at your face with such an affectionate look in his eyes. everything about you felt so raw and real to him.

everything felt right.

#microtya's kids #just out there. casually fucking the unknown #i imagine it would feel like a massive fever dream idk #or a home video. but you know. with skipping the step of actually recording it #this idea is two years old btw #oh gods i'm thrusting over my character non stop for over two years #yeah i'm not getting a gf any time soon.#monsterfucker #monster fucker #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster smut #teratophillia #god x human #he's more of an annoying prick than a god imma be honest

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bubblybloob · 3 months

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I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.

This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?

This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.

There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.

It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.

However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.

The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…

Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.

Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.

If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.

But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.

“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”

“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”

It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.

“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.

“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.

“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.

“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.

Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”

“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.

“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.

“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.

Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.

“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.

“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.

A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.

Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.

“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.

Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.

“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.

Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”

The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.

But they don’t.

Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.

“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.

They were outlandish… weren’t they?

Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.

“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.

“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.

“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.

Cold stands there.

“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.

Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.

“You’re afraid.”

For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.

In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.

—

WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.

I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.

I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.

He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.

Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.

#slay the princess #stp voices #voice of the smitten #voice of the cold #voice of the hero #voice of the cheated #art #my art #writng #asks #requests #too many goddamn tags #that’s what the fandom should be called

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rebouks · 3 months

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Previous // Next

Hey Mat, Long time no see, or write, or anything really.. feel free to rip this letter to shreds if you feel like it, I wouldn’t blame you. I didn’t exactly plan on dipping like that and I’m sure you’re probably pissed, or were but if you somehow manage to get through this stupid thing, then thanks… I’m doing better, thankfully.. sorted my shit out, like you said, as much as I think I can anyway… I’ve been clean for a while now, bar a few mishaps but I guess I should know by now that fucking up is just a part of myself that I can’t really change. I always liked that about you guys though, how you never judged me for it, I’ve found some pretty neat people here too, for the most part. I kinda cut my parents off too, but I dunno if I feel bad about that or not yet, guess I’m still figuring it out. I might give em another chance but half of me expects nothing to change, so I dunno… I kinda miss the Bay n’ stuff sometimes too y’know? Maybe not the rain though.. but I think I got so used to leaving things behind I didn’t really think it’d be any different this time around, maybe I was wrong. I’m doing okay, I guess.. but there’s a piece of me that feels like maybe I left a part of myself behind too. That sounds a bit dramatic huh? I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this… I suppose I’ve kinda been letting myself think about the past recently, someone got into my head about using it to move ahead instead of running from it and like, the elephant in the room n’ all that? I’m grateful you talked some sense into me before I did something I might’ve regretted not that I would have I didn’t mean to put you in that position though and I’m sorry if you thought maybe it was your fault that I left, cos it wasn’t. So uh can’t believe I just wrote uh out but I just wanted to apologise for leaving the way I did, without saying anything, and I hope none of you hate me for it and I hope you’re doing okay, no, better than okay! I really hope you worked things out with the whole Pixie thing too, I still think that was amazing, what you did I think it’d be neat if you had a relationship with her. Sometimes I wonder if I helped at all hopefully she’s doing good, either way though cos whatever you decided was for the best, no doubt. This letter is a rambling mess, I know.. but hopefully it’s better than nothing you can burn it if you want Can you tell I flunked lang/lit? I skipped write a letter day too I guess, my bad hah.. never was any good with words, written or spoken, but I’m sure you remember that. Anyway, say hi to everyone for me if you want, but you don’t have to - especially Oscar & Courtney, they don’t know how much they helped me.. and lil Robin, but I bet he’s not so little anymore. I shouldn’t have waited so long but uh.. better late than never? Okay peace.. T x ps. I almost didn’t post this but someone practically dragged me to the post box and now I’m nervous at the thought of you reading it.. which I’ll bet you find pretty funny, which is why I told you I guess pps. I don’t expect you to write back so dw about it if you don’t

TEXT MSSG:

Pick you up at 12? x Can’t make it… Why not? I’m sick I already bought tickets! Do you want me to come over, nurse you back to health? ;) I’m good, take someone else x Fiiine, get some rest sweet cheeks xx

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #matilda douglas #tristen burks #he's here in spirit ok? ok #everybody say ough #so nice to hear from triss but we wanna see his lovely faaaace #so does tilda.. but don't tell her i told you that #she's too busy pining to come out with u now mr mystery man #😭

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lunatiqez · 11 months

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“GUITAR LESSONS” — Hobie Brown x Reader

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x Male!Reader — use of the word “man” and “boy”

GENRE: Platonic

SUMMARY: Hobie teaches you how to play a song from one of your favorite bands.

WORD COUNT: 0.5k

A/N: I’m so so so sorry if this is ooc,, I’m trying to learn more ab Hobie and his character/personality so BEAR W ME!!! Also I wrote this before his official playlist came out and CAN I JUST SAY IM A LITERAL PSYCHIC….God Save the Queen by the Sex Pistols is on there !!!!! Okay this a/n is getting too long oops. Proofread by @lu-vin-it and requested by @srystix !!

YOU WERE LYING IN YOUR BED WHEN YOU got a text from your best friend, Hobie Brown.

HOBIE 🫂

12:54 PM | u coming over td??

12:54 PM | to practice guitar

YOU

12:55 PM | Yeah, what time do you want me to be there?

HOBIE 🫂

12:55 PM | time doesnt matter

12:55 PM | im free whenever

YOU

12:55 PM | K be there in 30

HOBIE 🫂

12:57 PM | 👍

On your way over, you decided to stop for a snack at the gas station. You got your favorite snack for yourself and a preheated slice of pizza for Hobie. Then, you set off to his house.

When you arrived he was in his room, mindlessly strumming his guitar strings.

“Ready?” You asked, wrecking his train of thought.

“Always.” Hobie sits up on his bed and begins playing Locomotive by Mad Season. He’s fairly good at it, but you can tell he’s not happy with the way he plays it just yet. The song is fast paced and seems to need an advanced guitar player for it— the complete opposite of you.

“Uhh, Hobie?” he looks up. “I don’t think I can play Locomotive just yet, it seems…I dunno…a bit out of my league right now?” Hobie lets out a hearty laugh.

“Alright, let’s do somethin’ easier then. How ‘bout God Save the Queen?” He suggests, knowing you absolutely love the Sex Pistols.

“Hell yeah!” You say, grabbing one of Hobie’s many spare guitars. You place your hands accordingly on the guitar frets and wait for his instructions.

“Alright, make sure you tune it right…I think it’s a standard E.” You tune the guitar to a standard E and he nods when he hears the familiar tone.

“Yep, that’s it. Now, it starts off with bar chords, so put your fingers on the fourth and sixth fret. That’ll be the G sharp major bar chord.” You do as you’re told, placing your finger pads on the frets.

“Then, you slide down to the A chord, so go down a fret and strum again in, like, a ‘down, down, up’ motion and then move back up to The G sharp chord.” By this time, you were familiar with the strumming pattern he meant so you did it flawlessly.

He went through the rest of the song slowly with you, making sure you understood what he was saying. He even went through the parts you were getting frustrated on until you got it.

“Alright, you ready to play it all in one go?”

“Uhhh…still not too sure, Hobie.” He sighed.

“You gotta have a little faith in yourself, mate! How are you s’posed to get anywhere in life without believing in yourself??” You brightened up at his encouragement.

“Alright, alright.” You said, trying to avoid a whole lecture on how important it is to believe in yourself. You paused for a moment, going through all the chords in your head before starting.

You played the beginning and Hobie got extremely excited.

“That’s my boy!” He said proudly. After a while of you playing he joined in with you.

Maybe, if he started believing in teams, he’d open up to being in a band.

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juuuulez · 7 months

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📰 | part seven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, father figure Negan my love, enemies to lovers/slow burn, kinda angst but not emotionally yet, graphic violence, attempted sexual assault, um this got kinda dark, also long.

summary: Once again, you are tasked with babysitting Carl, this time leaving Alexandria to find supplies. An unsuspecting attacker causes a rift in your feud.

eesh this is intense but also very succulent to write i LOVE LOVE LOVE some action!

also thank you all for 150+ followers!!! pls continue to send ideas to my inbox i’m absolutely eating it up <3

You’re really starting to get sick of this heat.

It’s sweltering, sticking your clothes to your skin, sweat patches running down your back and dampening the white tank you usually wear.

In favour of not being bitten, you wore the typical black jeans, which are doing absolutely nothing to combat against the unbearable heat.

Unfortunately enough, there isn’t any air conditioning in the Sanctuary, so you’d agreed to return once more to Alexandria with your father.

It had been a few days since your last impromptu visit, a week, actually. Though you’d previously been frazzled, irritated, you took the time to cool off and work through some pretty ugly emotions back at home.

Now, it was down to business, which meant giving strict orders to Saviours on where to check, what to take. Making sure everybody wrote things down, followed their routine.

“Woah, woah, woah! What do we have here?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Negan’s voice, who is standing at the gates, leaning against an old, beaten down car with the engine on. As you approach, the familiar outline of a sheriff’s hat comes into view through the rear window, and you almost want to turn away and forget you even saw anything.

“Now, I sure as shit hope you weren’t planning on leaving unsupervised.” Negan jousts at the teenage boy, still leaning against the passenger side.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where this is leading, and you shoot your father a tired little glare. “Can’t Dwight do it? Or, I dunno, anyone but me?” You plead, not exactly in the mood to be in a confined space with Carl once more.

For all you knew, he might swerve off the road to try and kill you.

Negan doesn’t let this slide, “Nope! You’re an excellent babysitter, doll. Best girl for the job.”

You bite your tongue against any sort of protest, still having not revealed the true extent of your last encounter with Carl. It would only cause unnecessary stress, you deducted.

At the beginning of this whole apocalypse, Negan had been cagey about letting you do just about anything. It only took a one bad incident to turn on his protective mode, and you felt like maintaining your freedom for a little longer.

“Fine.” You sigh, but instead of climbing into the passenger side, you skirt to the other end of the car. “Out, now. Leave the keys.”

Carl glares at you with an open mouth, clearly displeased about not only having his trip hijacked, but now being ordered around. “I can drive.”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna risk you goin’ AWOL.” You tell him, unfortunately deadly serious, much to the boys’ dismay.

With an angry scoff, Carl departs from the drivers side, instead getting into the passenger chair. You sit down, leaning over to adjust the seat in order to ensure your feet would reach the peddles.

With Negan gone, having departed to keep a keen eye on the Saviours, you reach into your belt and pull a small handgun from the holster. This catches Carl’s attention, as he’s never seen you carry a gun before.

You hand it to him.

“One bullet,” You instruct, tone more serious than he’s ever heard from you. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s emergencies only. You’re lucky I don’t just let you die out there.”

He accepts it wordlessly, not wanting to push that very thin boundary.

The sweltering heat is worse in the car, harsh metal keeping the thick air inside, and you doubt it had any working cooling system.

Luckily, this proved to be less of a problem as you begin driving, the air whipping past your faces and offering a slight relief.

Carl gave you directions, but after the third instruction, you were beginning to get a little fed up.

“Why don’t you draw me a map?” You suggest, one hand on the wheel while the other brazenly fishes around in your back pocket, managing to pull out a small notepad. “Then I don’t need to listen to your voice.”

“What, like you can read?” Carl comments, a snide remark that contrasts the fact that he does take the notepad, flicking through pages in order to find an empty one.

His eyes are drawn to the little graphite sketches that adorn the pages, his thumb tempted to swipe the paper back and have a peek, but he resists.

A few moments later, and Carl hands the notepad back to you, which you hold in front of the wheel in order to get a good look. Your brows furrow, finger tapping against a strange looking blob.

“What’s this?”

Carl leans closer, brows pinched as he looks at the drawing. “A tree.” He says, as if it were obvious, despite the artwork being significantly less than professional.

“Okay?” You take your eyes off the road, giving the boy a confused, critical gaze. This only feeds into his temper, where Carl suddenly takes the notepad from your hands, drawing a few more scribbled lines on the so-called ‘leaves’ of his tree.

“So you know where to turn,” He specifies, like this would solve all of your problems, “At the end of the road. There’s a tree.”

You struggle to find your words for a moment, unsure how the simple action of drawing a map has just made this more confusing. “There are trees everywhere, dumbass. That isn’t helpful.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big tree,” Carl scoffs, throwing the notepad back onto the dash, opened so you can see it. “This wouldn’t be happening if you just let me drive.”

“Oh! Okay,” You turn to him, “I would have let you drive, had you not tried to shoot me. So, fairs fair, asshole. This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Carl retorts loudly, uncaring of how you’re no longer looking at the road, or about how fast the car is travelling.

You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Murders don’t get let off scot-free just because they said two puny words.”

“That’s barely comparable!” He continues to push the conversation, all that pent up anger and frustration towards your adamancy against him starting to bubble up. “It’s not my fault that you’re, like, deranged or something.”

That was it.

You slam your foot on the breaks, sending the car skidding a few dangerous meters ahead. In that time, you brace yourself against the steering wheel, but Carl jolts uncomfortably against the seatbelt.

“What the fuck—”

“Get out.”

He looks at you like you’re actually insane, trying to decipher whether or not you’re being serious. But you only stare at him, glaring actually, jaw clenched in irritation.

“Get out!” You tell once more, needing Carl to get the message that you simply can’t be around him anymore. Not with all the arguing and bickering, it was getting on your last nerve, and you just needed some space to breathe.

With a huff, Carl obeys, but not without slamming the door shut. You run a hand raggedly through your hair, starting the car up once more and placing your foot on the accelerator.

“Fuck you!” Carl yells as you drive off, giving you the finger in hopes that you’ll see it in the rear view mirror. You probably didn’t, but it makes him feel a little better anyway, like he got the final word in.

But as the car disappears against the horizon, he’s left there, on the dusty road in that horrible summer heat. Sweat already sits on his nape, making his shirt uncomfortably sticky, and now he’s tasked with walking the rest of the way.

All because of your tantrum.

With the advantage, you make it to the abandoned gas station in record time. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where you’d ditched Carl, so you knew that he would be fine walking. You weren’t that cruel.

It’s relatively run-down, and you can only spot a few walkers mingling near the store’s back end. You keep your bat held tight, stalking through broken glass and tipped shelves to find anything of use. Whilst you don’t know what Carl had in mind for this trip, you could make a few assumptions, and managed to collect a small pile of minimal medical equipment, snacks, and even some baby food.

It was peaceful, actually.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Slinging the bag of supplies over your shoulder, you approached the car once more, intending to drive the way back and pick Carl up along the way. He shouldn’t be too far off, at this point. You lean over, starting the ignition and popping the boot open, letting the supplies rest there.

But as you circle around, something catches your eye. A shiny glint on the ground. You poke it with your boot, only to realise that it appears to be a small razor blade.

Dread floods your system, and as you bend down to inspect the peculiar object, it hits you.

The tires, each one of them, have gone flat. Air completely let out, slashed. Unusable.

No escape.

You clench your jaw, rising to your feet once more, the metal bat still in hand. Someone was here. With what intentions, you didn’t know, but you could assume it wasn’t good.

Cautiously, you take a few steps backwards, towards the gas station. You watch the open space ahead of you, eyes steady on the treeline, inspecting for the most minute of movements that could betray the whereabouts of this potential attacker.

Except it doesn’t come from behind.

One steady thunk and your head is colliding with the concrete wall, to which the shock causes you to drop the baseball bat, one hand clasping the wall and the other digging your nails into the wrist of your attacker.

A firm hand has collected your hair, gripping onto your ponytail, fingers pressed into your scalp. You fight and squirm, but the body of a much larger man presses behind you.

With your stuff in the car, you can only imagine what he might want.

Despite this, you don’t scream, teeth clenched as you struggle to evade his grip. A harsh stomp to his foot assists your escape, where you’re able to land one solid punch square to the man’s jaw, before his leg swipes your balance out, sending you crashing to the concrete.

You almost twist onto your stomach, but the attacker is too quick, once again fisting your ponytail and slamming your face into the ground. One, two, three and you finally stop struggling as vigorously, blood and mucous caked all over your face, mixing in with chipped cement and dirt from the floor.

But the baseball bat is so, so close.

There’s one hand still in your hair, another on your back. Now waist, then stomach. Gross, burly fingers circling the button of your jeans.

A singular moment of weakness is all you need, where he’ll let his guard down, and you can leap for the bat.

Unfortunately, you know what form this weakness comes in.

You’re panting like a wild animal, trying not to squirm, carefully calculating your next move until suddenly there’s a loud pop then whistle that whirs past your ears, the sound almost making you flinch, before the weight of your attacker slumps against your body.

Crimson blood drips down onto your shoulder, coating your neck and back, the cold shock helping you regain enough consciousnesses to shuck the dead body from your smaller frame, scurrying out from underneath him.

The pavement is searing hot against your palms, you can even feel the burn through the thick material of your jeans. As you sit up on your haunches, looking around, you spot him.

Carl, crouched behind a few bushes, tentatively lowering the handgun.

One bullet.

As he begins to approach, you wipe some of the blood onto your arm, smearing the disgusting gunk further around your skin, which is still persistently dripping from your nose and mouth.

Gravel has surely made its way into the open wounds, but you do nothing about it. Not now, at least.

Carl approaches you slowly, putting the handgun back into his holster, and that genuine look of concern on his face makes you feel sick.

When he gets close enough, arms reach, you bristle and firmly shove him away, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards.

“The fuck did I say?!” You yell at him, directing all your rage and anger towards the corpse lying at your feet, back at Carl. “Emergencies only. What happens now, huh? I don’t have another bullet!”

He looks completely shell shocked by your outburst, not having accounted for such a reaction. But it doesn’t matter, as you’re still shouting, even as he stands there dumbly and watches.

“I had that under control!” You grunt, once again wiping at you nose, which runs with a mix of snot and blood.

When you garner no reaction from Carl, this frustration only continues to fester. You lean down to the ground, swiping up the baseball bat and clenching it hard in your palms.

You approach the body once more, and with one hefty swing, completely obliterate the man’s skull. Later, you would claim this was being proactive against potential walkers, but in the moment in was nothing more than revenge.

When you’ve entirely crushed the skull, you move on to the neck, spine, arms, torso. Anything. There comes a point where you’re no longer hitting to destroy any evidence of what happened, but hitting simply to feel some semblance of control. Blood spurts onto your jeans, some even reaching your tank, a darker colour that contrasts with the bright red of your own.

“Hey, hey. Cool it.” Carl is saying from behind you, and when you show no acknowledgment of his words, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, but otherwise drop the bat, letting it clang harshly against the concrete, rolling a few feet away and leaving a gorey trail.

At this point, you try to clear your head, take stock of the situation. The tires are slashed, deeming the car useless. It was beginning to enter late afternoon, and though the days were hot, the nights were freezing. Not only that, but all this shouting has likely attracted whatever walkers you’d hoped to leave unsuspecting.

Finally, you spare a glance back at Carl, who’s been watching you this whole time. It looks like he’s on edge, waiting, ready for whatever you’re about to do, however irrational. A few specks of blood have made its way onto the sleeves of his flannel, where you realise how close Carl has been standing to you, even during the little outburst.

“Fine,” You mumble, answering his unspoken question. “No point heading back. Best push the car into some shade, camp out there for the night.”

Carl takes this as permission to contribute, though he still speaks to you with a level of cation. Mentally, you accept this as fear, but you know very well it’s actually concern. “I know the area pretty well. There’s a cabin not too far off, it was clean last time I checked.”

It’s reasonable, even if the idea of following Carl into the woods makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You’d rather not, especially now that he’d used the sole bullet, which you had none of on hand.

You chew on your busted bottom lip, nodding, accepting this makeshift plan. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh, almost sounding defeated, but nonetheless you pick the bat off the ground and stride back away from the gas station, not bothering to consult Carl any longer.

This was going to be a long night.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #negan smith x reader #twd x you #carl grimes x you #negan smith #the walking dead

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an1mu5 · 19 days

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vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]

-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-

(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)

word count: 886

cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????

god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh

you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.

you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.

you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.

you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.

you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.

"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."

you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!

you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.

"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."

you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.

as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.

it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.

you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.

"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.

was it his fault that he trusted you?

he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.

you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.

your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.

he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.

his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.

he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.

you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.

he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.

he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.

however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.

you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?

he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.

vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.

"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.

vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly what it was that you two were doing.

you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.

hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!

thank you for reading!

-leo :3

#sleep token #vessel #vessel sleep token #vessel x reader #gender neutral reader #sleep token x reader #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token fic #smut #sleep token smut

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

Note

I know you're on hiatus So you don't have to answer this now if you don't want to. Take your time. But this idea just popped in my head and I gotta tell you before it forgot about it.

So sub yandere jisung who has a crush on you and has journal. He writes all of his fantasies about you in that journal because hes too shy to actually tell you how he feels. Many are very wholesome fantasies about you and him. Cooking/baking together, watching movies together, going on cute little dates. And then there are the "not so wholesome" fantasies, where he explains in great detail what he wants you to do to him. Pegging, bondage using toys on him and lots of other ✨️juicy✨️stuff. He hides his journal in his room hoping no one will find it, But one day he gets careless and leaves a it out in the open where you happen to find it. And when he discovers that you've found it and you read every single page of that journal he just crumbles.

-🐟anon

i literally just finished writing the sub yandere jisung hcs and THEN I READ THIS

OMFGGG

you would get complete whiplash reading that journal, the first page is just him gushing about how much he loves you and would do anything for you, a scenario where he confesses his undying love for you and imagines everything you could be,

the next page is ideas, notes about things you like and places you mentioned that interested you, like the museum or a restaurant you've wanted to try. it's filled with hearts and cute date ideas, a rating out of ten on how much he thinks you'd enjoy it,

and then the next page is straight up porn, damn boy would put us in shock with the filth he depicts on the page, imagining how it would feel for you to peg him, describing exactly how he would want it and the size dildo he wants (he's also ordered it, already all tied up in a pretty box in his closet, waiting for the day that you'll finally use it on him)

the next page is movies, date ideas with shows he thinks you'll like and one's that you've already said you like that he's planning to watch so he can talk to you about them<3

the next page is straight up sex toys he wishes you'd use on him. vibrators and dildos, cockrings and ropes, gags and lingerie (you don't really know if he wants you to wear it or him to, or even both of you to)

it goes back and forth, with each new page you'll never know what you'll get, the filthiest smut out there or the sweetest fluff. a scarily accurate recounting of how your body looks or a love song he's written for you

there's two options after you've read it really, put it back and pretend it never happened, act like you never found it and never ever bring it up to him

or confront him and fulfill some of the depraved perverted fantasies that he's written about...

his blush would be really cute if you did tell him, but he would either be absolutely mortified or maybe, secretly, deep down some part of him wanted you to find it, some part of him knew that leaving it out in the open would result in you finding it

and the same part of him would sing and gloat in pleasure as you make him act out just how he would ride your thigh like he wrote in the margins of his journal

anyway, yes, sub yandere jisung hc will probably be out soon and i dunno who i'll do next yet but we'll find out soon enough

(also isn't there a song where the singer talks about finding someone's journal at their house, something like, 'read those pages, you really love me baby?' or smth? idk, i could be tripping)

#inbox💌#🐟anon #hard thoughts #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #sub stray kids #dom reader #sub jisung #sub han jisung #han jisung smut #sub yandere #stray kids hard thoughts

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likedovesinthewindd · 10 months

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Heeeyyy I really love your stories!! <3 can I request hobie being a runway model and reader being fashion designer for him. I been thinking about the fact he said he was briefly a runway model and I can’t get it out my head. I dunno what direction you’d want to take the story in if u wrote it but im pretty sure I’d b great! :) (sorry about the vagueness)

hi babes, thank you soo much you're so sweet:')) also so sorry this took so long!!

hobie brown x reader

warning: mention of pins/needles

wc: ±1100

a/n: don't really like how this came out might rewrite it later on. not fully proofread.

You didn't consider yourself any Westwood or McQueen just yet, but even the best had to start somewhere, right? It just so happened that your "somewhere" would be the old community hall in your neighborhood. This would be your very first fashion show, not something you took very lightly. This could make or break your almost nonexistent career, so it was important that everything was absolutely perfect.

Planning this had been an absolute pain; trying to find an affordable venue that wasn't on the verge of complete degradation, finding a way to decorate said venue accordingly, promoting and hunting for possible columnists and other industry players to invite, along with a million other things.

One of the most important aspects were models; the people who ultimately would be representing your brand. The only problem was that you didn't have money to hire any people, much less approach an agency, so you had to get creative. You had held "auditions" in your neighborhood; basically asking your friends and other people if they'd like to model for you.

You were upfront, admitting that you would not be able to pay them properly. People were reluctant at first; the idea of no compensation turning some away, but after a few days you managed to find and recruit a handful of people to help you, most of them being friends and people you knew from scool. Things were looking good, and your project was on the right tracks so far.

You were running around in your apartment-turned-studio, frantically searching for the tracing wheel you had lost once again, when you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to find a tall and lanky young man, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Heard you're looking for models," was all he said in a low deep voice and you raised your brows. "Y'know I can't pay you right?" you said, and he nodded in reply. "Long as the clothes look good I don't care," he said.

After first glance, you already knew he'd be a showstopper. He just looked perfect for a runway; you could already imagine the way your pieces would fit him. That's how you had met Hobie, how you gained a model, a muse, aswell as a friend.

✴︎.˳⁺⁎˚｡⋆

It still shocked you just how much you've managed to pull off in these few months leading up to the big event. The whole thing had been one big family-friend initiative; everyone stepping in to help where they can.

Your old roomate, who worked at a hair salon had asked her colleagues to help with doing every model's hair. She had a friend who worked as a beautician in a salon, who had asked her colleagues to help with everyone's make-up. The choreographer had been your aunt, courtesy of her "certified pageant mom" status. The lighting and sound provided by a friend who worked as a part-time DJ at some dingy club. He had smuggled some equipment to use for the night.

The small closet rooms that served as backstage facilities were packed with people doing make-up, running around in robes and adding all the final touches.

When the time came for everyone to get dressed, you were running around like a headless chicked, hemming a few pieces here and there and filing down slippery shoes, even having to calm one of the girls down due to an anxiety attack.

"How does that feel? Comfortable?" you asked pulling and adjusting at the top of Hobie's outfit, trying not to restrict his airflow. "Good," was all he said. "Are you nervous, superstar?" he asked, as you worked on a piece of stubborn material at the back of his pants. You scoffed quietly at the stupid nickname. "Yes," you answered truthfully, "there's a few important people out there. If they like what they see, they'll be writing articles. Articles mean exposure, and I really need that right now." You laughed nervously.

"But it's gonna be great," you added, moving away from his pants and taking a moment to admire your work, albeit from behind. "because I have my showstopper right here, and he looks incredible," you added with a smile. He turned around, giving you a coy smirk in return. "You outdid yourself love," he said, looking down at his attire, "on your way to becomin' the new Westwood, yeah?"

You scoffed at his comment. "C'mon you have to go line up," you said.

★˚｡⋆.˳⁺⁎˚

The show itself was absolutely perfect. You watched backstage with bated breath as each model disappeared through the dark curtains, then like clockwork returned, some to change into new pieces, then fall back in line.

Hobie had both opened and closed for your show, and by the end of the night when everyone stood in applause, he and your mother had urged you to go on stage to give your final bow. You thought it was corny, but you humored them, walking onto the runway until you were visible and giving everyone a wordless thank you, before making your way backstage once again.

You had thanked every single person who worked with you, giving everyone a warm embrace aswell as thanking them profusely for their hard work. When you finally got to thank Hobie, you wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a fat kiss right on the apple of his cheek. "You," you started, pulling him away from your embrace, but keeping his shoulders in your two hands, "stole the fucking show."

He laughed lightly, shrugging dismissively. "You're the one that made this possible," he said, and you flashed him a megawatt smile, the adrenaline from the night pumping through your body.

"Y'know, there were a few casting directors scouting here tonight," you said, "you might be getting a few calls soon, they'd definitely want to sign a catch like you." He only scrunched his face his dismissal. "Nah," he said, and you furrowed your brows. "I'm not committing myself to some agency, wouldn't want to leave you," he added.

He continued to work with you several more months; working closely with you when designing and creating your pieces, than modeling those same pieces. Your popularity grew, and with it the demand for him; numerous agencies looking to potentially sign him. When it all became too much, he decided to stop all together. You respected his decision, and still remained close with him. You still called him showstopper, and he still called you superstar.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown fic #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #likedovesinthewindd

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realbeijinger · 4 months

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Another semi-coherent rant on climate change, the value of idealism, and TGCF (I finally finished!)

Well, I finished Tian Guan Ci Fu. And, oh man, if you read my last post, you’ll know that I was terrified that the entire novel would be a criticism of blind idealism. But I am SO glad I was wrong!!! Looking back on what I wrote before… it’s kind of hilarious how worried I was. I was so sure that I knew where it was going, was so busy preparing myself to be offended/emotionally crushed, that I wouldn’t even entertain the idea that maybe MXTX had a similar worldview to me all along.

In my defense, aside from the line, “Something like saving the common people… although foolish, it is brave,” everything seemed to point toward the idea that trying to do good is pointless. I mean, up until the moment when Xie Lian was lying with a sword in his chest on the streets of Yong’an, all of his efforts to do good had essentially been in vain. He hadn’t been able to help anyone.

And then, when the one guy stopped and gave Xie Lian his hat, I dunno, I just cried. It was so perfect! Like, ugh, damn you, MXTX! So sneaky… destroying us, just to bring us back later!! It was such a small, insignificant win, but it was exactly what Xie Lian (and I) needed. I love the line, “Just one person was enough!” Just one person doing something selfless. It’s enough to give us hope.

It really resonates with me because I think a lot about how to maintain hope. In terms of the climate crisis, I feel like Xie Lian—completely powerless. I want to stop eating meat, use less plastic, spend more time on environmental activism, but honestly, what do any of these things matter? The meat industry is not going to change because I choose to stop consuming. Even my activism has a completely negligible effect—whether or not I join a protest or write a letter to my congressman will almost certainly not be the deciding factor for any climate legislation, no matter how much effort I put in.

And yet, I still want to. I love the moment when Xie Lian chooses to get stabbed over and over rather than create a second plague of Human Face Disease, and White No-Face asks him in shock, “Why??”—as in, why would you ever do that? And Xie Lian responds: “I don’t have a reason—just because I want to! Even if I explained it to you… Useless trash like you wouldn’t understand.” This line is so great. Xie Lian can’t explain it to White No-Face, because, in truth, it isn’t entirely logical. It can’t be explained by reason. I want to do my measly, unimportant part to help the world… because I want to. Because it feels right. Because it’s my way of keeping my heart, of maintaining faith that there is some good in this world worth upholding. (As an aside, I love how the English title of the live action drama—which we may never get to see, God damn censorship!!!!—is called “Eternal Faith.” Of course it refers to Hua Cheng and Xie Lian’s faith in each other, but I think it also means having eternal faith in the value of doing good, despite centuries of experience that seem to show its pointlessness.)

As I talked about in my last post, if you zoom out far enough, nothing really seems to matter. Everything we love and care about will one day be gone. And yet, I believe we still have to act like it matters. This is the basic tenant of existentialism, and I think MXTX portrays this philosophical paradox really beautifully.

It’s funny, because I think MXTX has a lot of profound things to say, but in an interview I read, she warned against viewing her work too deeply, saying, “I am not a guru.” I get that she may not want the responsibility of giving people spiritual advice, but I do think she presents some really fascinating, really novel, philosophical ideas. So, sorry MXTX, but I’m about to analyze TGCF like it’s a piece of freakin scripture. Soo here we go…

The main theme she comes back to again and again is that fortune is limited, so the only way you can do good for others is by taking fortune from somebody else. Which leads the characters to a bunch of ethically impossible choices: the people of Yong’an and the people of Xianle can’t all be saved (Xie Lian must choose who to help), neither can the people of Wuyong and the surrounding kingdoms (Prince of Wuyong must choose), and Shi Wudu can’t save his brother from a tragic fate without taking fortune from an innocent person. When the characters try to avoid choosing, and try to “play God” by creating a “third path,” it just invites disaster.

But is this really true? Is fortune actually limited? It’s an idea that reminds me of Buddhism and Daoism, but also seems kind of revolutionary… (I like to think I know something about Chinese philosophy but it could certainly be a thing and I don’t know). I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe in limited resources, and the idea that nature tends toward balance. I think conceiving of it this way, as a pool of fortune, is really interesting.

It reminds me of this Meme:

In other words, who is the protagonist and who is the villain is entirely based on perspective. And, according to the laws of nature, we all must survive by eating others, or causing others to starve (i.e. avoiding being eaten).

I tried to think if this is really true in all areas of life. I’m a teacher, and one of the ways I convince myself that I am doing good in the world is by helping my students—preparing them well for college so that they can get into good schools and follow their dreams. But then, is this just taking fortune from others? If I do prepare my students well, and as a result they all get into top universities, does that mean they are taking spots away from other students? Am I simply just helping “my own,” at the expense of others?

One place where I see this concept play out very clearly is with our modern, industrialized society. As I mentioned in my last post, we live in a world of abundance. Most of us have enough food to eat, live in houses with electricity and running water, and don’t worry about a whole host of diseases endured by our ancestors. It seems we have done what Xie Lian couldn’t—we have expanded the well of fortune for most of humanity.

But this fortune wasn’t spontaneously created. It was taken from other species. It was borrowed against our own future, when climate change will likely destroy this world of abundance we have created, causing untold suffering. In truth, when it comes to prosperity, there is no such thing as a free lunch.

Even now, when we ought to be enjoying our fortune, most of us are not happy. We want other things. We take food, clothing, and shelter for granted, creating even bigger, more lofty demands—a bigger car, a better house, a machine that’s sole purpose is to make bread. In fact, it seems like whenever we make things “better,” the goalposts just move. I recently read a book called Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, which mentioned that with the advent of washing machines and vacuum cleaners, everyone assumed there would be more free time. Yet, the real outcome was that standards of cleanliness just changed. Suddenly, people expected you to wear fresh clothes every day and have a perfectly dust-free home, which meant spending just as much time cleaning as in the past.

And according to psychologists, getting what we want doesn’t really make us happier. Instead, something like getting a promotion causes our happiness to spike, before it quickly returns to baseline. The psychologist Dan Gilbert writes that the purpose of our emotions is to act like a compass—to tell us which direction to go in. If you feel good, you can continue the way you are going. If you feel bad, you should probably turn—make a change. But if you get what you want and become permanently happy, your compass is now broken. It’s stuck in one direction and becomes useless.

All of this is very Buddhist, of course. Suffering is not caused by our external circumstances, but our desire to change them.

Like I said, I don’t necessarily believe in “fate” or “fortune.” But I believe this all points to something deeper that MXTX is getting at: which is that we cannot fundamentally make a better world, for the common people, or for anyone. This idea of “better” doesn’t really exist. The world is as it is. Trying to alter that is like playing God. And like Xie Lian says, “In this world, there are no true gods…”

So, what do we do? How can we survive this absurdist tragedy of life? I don’t think we can just throw up our hands and not give a shit—that way lies depression and Jun Wu-style cruelty. We cannot lose our heart. But we also can’t try to fix everything.

One thing I find a bit difficult about MXTX is she is very clear about the impossible situations our characters find themselves in, but not really clear about the solution. She seems critical of the characters’ actions (I’m thinking also of Wei Wuxian here), but what exactly does she think they should have done? In other words, what is the point?

I spent a long time thinking about this. And I realized that Xie Lian was able to get back on his feet, find happiness and make peace with himself. How did he do this? Ultimately, I see Xie Lian’s solution as having three parts: self-sacrifice, gratitude, and purpose. Which all sounds very academic and maybe not that profound on an emotional level. But hear me out. Because, in the end, I think these choices are incredibly beautiful. They are the kind of thing that make me feel like reading TGCF was actually a spiritual experience, no matter what MXTX says. That makes me admire Xie Lian and want to follow him (like the God he is).

Okay so first: self-sacrifice. If fortune is limited, and the only way to make others’ lives better is to take fortune from someplace else, then there is really only one place you can take it from without hurting others—yourself.

So, part of Xie Lian’s solution is to take fortune from himself and give it to others. It’s why he asks for a cursed shackle that disperses his fortune, so that his fortune will naturally flow to those around him. It’s, of course, a very small thing. He is no longer playing God, or trying to “fix” the world on a grand scale. He is simply, in his own, quiet way, serving the common people.

My desire to give up meat and to spend more time on activism—these things feel like big sacrifices for me. And yet, they will have a very small impact on the greater situation in the world. They’re a drop in the ocean. I still want to do it, but it’s hard. It’s hard to care, or think that these things matter. Yet, this is the trade-off Xie Lian was willing to make. I really admire him for it.

I believe self-sacrifice is actually a really important, beautiful thing, that our society has forgotten the value of. We are individualistic—obsessed with our own wants. As I mentioned previously, our expectations have risen, so we buy and buy and buy. We are unwilling to rein in our consumption. I know a lot of people baulk at lifestyle changes as a solution to the climate crisis, and I agree that putting pressure on individuals instead of governments or corporations is misguided. But, first of all, there simply aren’t enough resources on earth to sustain our current levels of consumption. And, second… I don’t think we can completely let individuals off the hook. What is society anyway, but a collection of individuals? If we are going to address this thing, it’s going to take a massive movement—bigger than the civil rights movement or the works’ rights movement or the women’s movement. It’s going to take millions of people worldwide getting out of their own heads, their own lives, and concerning themselves with the greater good. That requires immense sacrifice.

Which takes me to gratitude. In order to be willing to sacrifice, you have to appreciate what you already have.

People often talk about gratitude these days as a path to mental health. Instinctively, it sounds like an uplifting, positive thing. And it is… but it also entails having a relatively negative worldview. It means remembering all the horrible things that exist in this world which we are lucky enough to avoid on a daily basis. You stepped in some dog shit? Well, that sucks, but you could have stepped into an open manhole and broken your neck! So! That’s something to be grateful for.

We are all so lucky. I’m sure everyone reading this has pains and traumas and challenges. This isn’t to diminish those, but, I hope, at least we all have at least one person to love. That’s all Hua Cheng had, and it’s what kept him going. Just one person was enough. And most of us, I hope, get to eat food every day, get to sleep in a bed, get to play video games or read novels or write poetry when we are sad. Not everyone gets those things.

Xie Lian, of course, was the king of low expectations, because he knew his future was going to be bad. He had intentionally accepted bad luck for a lifetime. So, there was no point in hoping for things to get better.

I think this attitude is best shown by his interaction with the Venerable of Empty words. The Venerable of Empty Words feeds off people’s fears. But Xie Lian didn’t really have any. When the Venerable of Empty Words warned him that his hut will collapse in two months, his response is, “Two months? If it’s still standing in seven days, then it’ll be a real miracle.” Because his expectations are so low, he’s essentially immune to fear. I can’t help but think that if you could really think this way, it would be a kind of superpower. It reminds me of the famous quote by spiritual teacher Krishnamurti, “Do you know what my secret is? You see, I don’t mind what happens.”

And so Xie Lian is okay with everything. He can sleep anywhere, crash boulders on his chest for money, not eat for three days, regularly suffer corpse poisoning, and still be okay.

Which leads to my third point: purpose. Xie Lian is able to endure such hardship because his expectations are low, but also he knows all his suffering has a purpose. “If I am to become a God of misfortune, then so be it,” he says. “As long as I know deep down that I am not.” He is okay with being laughed at or avoided for his bad luck, because deep down he knows he is doing the right thing. People can withstand a great deal if they feel their suffering has meaning. In Man’s Search for Meaning, the psychiatrist Victor Frankl’s writes about the horrors of living through a concentration camp, and how over and over, it was creating purpose that allowed him, and others, to find motivation to survive. Which I think has an important lesson for self-sacrifice. People are willing to sacrifice a lot, if they feel their sacrifice has purpose.

I get it when MXTX says that she is not a guru, and maybe it’s a lot to ask of a danmei novel to take spiritual advice from it. The book wasn’t necessarily perfect, and I do have some critiques (which I was gonna add here, but this thing is already wayyy too long). But… I do think I found something really meaningful in this story—some inspiration. I want to follow Xie Lian’s example, and live with gratitude and acceptance, while keeping my faith in doing the right thing. In other words, WWXLD! (What Would Xie Lian Do?)

#tgcf #mxtx #heaven official's blessing #tgcf meta #tian guan ci fu #climate change #xie lian #hualian #danmei #chinese bl

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