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ballad-of-birdy-lamb · 9 months

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hi!! i thought i'd send in a request for lucy gray baird! i was thinking maybe hurt/comfort set in the arena, where reader gets injured and either lucy helps them or has to leave them alone for a bit for whatever reason? gn reader preferred but i don't mind too much!

can't wait to read your writing in the future! no pressure to write this specifically though, of course <3

— @aubeystawby

I'm so excited to write about Lucy Gray, she is such a cool character. And thank you for reposting my requirements list! Also, I'm sorry if she's OOC, I've never written for her and haven't read the book in a couple of months.

Lucy Gray Baird x Gender neutral! Reader (hurt/comfort)

Warning: mention of murder, blood, description of wounds, spoilers for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, and hand-holding!

Keep in mind: the story can be taken in a platonic or romantic way. There are no kissing or romantic gestures but the way it is written can be taken either way.

Gliding one hand along the arena wall, you covered your eyes from the sun. The sun beamed down onto your skin, bathing you in warmth, but it wasn't pleasant. The midsummer heat and the humidity in the arena made it unbearable. It felt disgusting being in the sun from how little you had eaten in the past couple of hours.

When was the last time you had eaten a full meal? Maybe the night before reaping day. You couldn't have eaten anything the actual day from nerves. Your mentor barely gave you food from the days in the monkey house. The closest semblance of food you had received was from Capital citizens, which was minute and didn't help your appetite. You just had to hope your mentor pitied you enough to feed you now.

Hunger pains washed over your body, climbing through your body in waves. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, hoping the pains wouldn't last as long as the last time. Your prayers weren't answered, rather, the pains lasted nearly twice as long. Loud and deep breaths were heard coming from you as you keeled over.

When the hunger pains had left, you glanced around the dirt-covered arena, wanting to find any semblance of food. Perhaps another tribute willing to trade food for something. But what would you give? The only thing you had was a roll of bandages and a small knife. You could always threaten them. But it probably wouldn't have worked, the other tributes presumably had more than you. No point in that option.

You reminded yourself to stay focused, being in your head was not somewhere you wanted to be, especially in this place.

Your eyes glide over the surrounding area. The walls looked the same, a beige and dirty tone, it seemed to suck life from the already lifeless building. But the vibrancy of the six flags of Panem hung on the walls brought it back. Or rather five flags. One was gone and laid over several bodies in a large area of the arena.

Reaper’s graveyard. It brought a sense of disgust to you. The idea that they will always have Panem over them, even in death, made you pity them.

You didn't feel to count the bodies, rather, your eyes were drawn to a body in a small corner of the arena. It was a male tribute's body, several water bottles lay next to his body. You gave up discerning the identity of the tribute at the sight of a handkerchief over its face.

Buzzing sounds filled the silence as you looked up at a drone slowly flying toward you. It held a bread roll in its metal claw. A grin crossed your face as you reached your hand for the drone. At the sight of the bread in its metal hand, your mouth watered. Thank god your mentor had mercy on you. You held your hand out before it dropped the roll into your hand. It left as quickly as it had come but you didn't pay any mind to it.

You were swift as you took large bites out of brown bread. The stale, crumbly bread fell apart in your mouth but you kept eating. It didn't matter that the food wasn't the greatest, it was good you were even given food at all. Your fingers tore the bread apart rapidly. The feeling of hunger made the bread taste twice as good.

You were barely three-quarters through the bread when the small sound of metal hitting concrete filled the air. Your body stiffened. Silence filled the emptiness as you looked around quickly.

Your eyes trailed over the walls of the arena, then to the tunnel entrances. Your grasp on your knife tightened as you listened for anything else.

You were expecting one of the tributes to come running at you with a blade or an axe. Hell, you were expecting Reaper.

But the idea of someone getting their hand on a trident wasn't something that crossed your mind.

Heavy footsteps overtook the quiet and they grew closer. You didn't take a chance to look at who was running after you as you run for the channel entrance. A boy's voice yelled for another tribute, the boy calling for Coral. It must have been Mizzen. He was the only tribute that was allied with the girl tribute. And he was the only other tribute with a trident.

It took barely a second for the trident to be thrown through the air and hit your leg. Your body hit the ground roughly as you cried out. Pain flowed through your body as you reached back for the weapon. You peek at the boy running for you, and you were correct. It was Mizzen. You pull the trident from your leg harshly.

The pain grew worse as the air touched delicately at your bleeding wound. You got up and threw the weapon in another direction. It wouldn't be smart to take the trident with you. The situation was already bad but it would be worse being hunted for taking someone's stuff.

The trident hit the dirt-covered ground loudly. Mizzen was quick to rush for the skewer. It gave you little time to run since it seemed he wasn't willing to leave you alive.

Your footsteps were heavy as you dash through the flickering tunnels. Reaching down to hold your wound, you turned corners swiftly and continued running.

Agony crept up your leg and sprouted in your nerves as you ran from the boy. Mizzen’s shouts filled the flickering channel as you rush past corners. It took everything in you not to scream and wail from pain.

Hot pain wafted through your body as you limped through the tunnels. You took swift turns around the corners, wanting to get rid of your attacker. Heavy gasps left your lungs, not only from running but also from agony in your leg.

The lights shine down onto your blood-covered limb. Your face contorted in agony as you held your leg with one hand. Mizzen’s footsteps slowly quieted as you ran deeper into the dark tunnels.

When you were sure Mizzen and Coral had given up their chase, you finally stop running and slow to a walk, a slow and painful walk. You ground your teeth as you took in deep breaths. Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts. You reminded yourself.

You ultimately looked down at your wound, taking in the damage done to your limb. It was far more disgusting than you had thought. Blood ran down your leg, soaking your socks in reddish-pink tones. The trident had torn the muscles in your leg and putting any pressure proved painful.

Blood ran down your ankle and gradually covered the dark cement floor. Your breathing was heavy as you tried to unroll the gauze from your pocket. Tears cascade down your face as you hurriedly wipe dust and dirt from your wound, pain welling from the scratchiness of your clothes and the dirt.

You take deep breaths, trying to think happy thoughts so you can continue. You knew you couldn't be in the same spot for long. Another tribute would find you fast, and they wouldn't have mercy on you.

You looked at the remnants of the bread roll in your hand. The deep brown crust had become maroon from the blood it soaked up. Its insides were a pinkish hue. You cursed to yourself and threw the bread angrily at the wall, it hit with a soft ‘splat’.

You rigidly reached back into your pocket, withdrawing a small hunter's knife. Reaching for a piece of clothing, you cut at the fabric quickly. Threads came undone as you slash hastily but it didn't matter. You needed to make a tourniquet.

The soft clicking could barely be made clear. The tapping of shoes. Looking around the dingy hall, you're quick to grab your knife. Your breath is rigid as you give your best effort to stand. The pain in your leg seemed to claw at your body and nerves. You whined in pain but kept standing. Your good leg held most of your balance, while you kept your free hand against the curved wall. Your exhalation came as a pant.

You glared at the figure, guiding your knife to the woman in the dark. “Stay back!” You screeched, jutting the knife at the girl. She held her hands up, as though she was getting caught for something. You were still on guard when you started to piece together who the girl was. Her dress was vibrant, contrasting her tan skin. Oh, you knew who this was.

Lucy Gray.

It was obvious the arena warmth and stress had affected her. Her dark hair was tangled, and her forehead was sweaty, though her dress stayed vivid. You were slightly surprised she hadn't been killed yet, her dress could have given her away. But it must have been her sneakiness that kept her alive.

Even if she was a nice person, you knew not to back down. No matter how nice she was, you knew her survival was always number one for her. No matter how sweetly she spoke, you didn't want to look away from her out of worry she would attack.

Lucy Gray stepped into the light, showing herself fully. There were no noticeable weapons on her. The only thing pointing out that she had something on her would be one side of her rainbow ruffles hanging lower than the other. Something was in her pocket.

“(Y/n), I know how scared you must be. I saw your interaction with Mizzen, it didn't look too pretty,” Lucy Gray spoke, acknowledging the gaping wound on your leg with worry. “Yeah, no shit,” You retort, keeping a hard expression as you exhale through your teeth.

“I can help you, I have water to clean your wound. Plus, I want you to be my ally for the rest of the Games. I lost my District partner and you're just as alone as I am,” Lucy Gray seemed saddened at the mention of her District partner. Wasn't it Jessup? You couldn't remember properly. You stared daggers into her wordlessly. The only sound that could be heard was your loud breathing.

Your brain gradually shifted from her hurting you to the idea of partnering with her. Lucy Gray was popular in the Capital, everyone knew that. Partnering with her would have a lot of benefits since she has a lot of sponsors. Which meant food, lots of it.

Blood dripped onto the floor in large droplets, but you didn't pay attention to it. The only thing you were worried about was Lucy Gray. “(Y/n), if you don't let me help you, you're gonna bleed out,” she muttered and took a step closer. At the small action, you slashed at the air in front of her. You blinked lazily. Your breathing grew staggered as you slowly became lightheaded. You swallow thickly as you fall over onto the hard concrete.

Your body hits the ground with a thud. Silence follows as Lucy Gray peered down at you. She is quick to get closer, reaching into her rainbow ruffles to grab something. As you recover sluggishly, you immediately swing your knife at the closeness between you and the girl. Seeing her reach into her pocket, you sliced at the air near her with more intent.

You pointed the knife at Lucy Gray, giving her an angry yet weak stare. “Get away! Stay back!” You exclaimed as you used your free hand to trudge your body along the dirt floor. The dirt gradually covered your clothes as you tried to move away from the girl. You groan as the skin near your cut got dragged along the cement flooring. Tears ran down your face from the pain but you kept going. Pushing yourself farther from Lucy Gray, even if it was only a couple of inches.

Your body grew weak as the soreness in your body grew. Lucy Gray watched you closely, acting as though you were a hurt animal. You used your free hand to wipe the tears

Yet, she didn't try to hurt you. She simply gave you a saddened look as she tried stepping closer. “I'm not going to hurt you,” Lucy Gray spoke in a soft tone.

“How... How should I know you won't?” You bellow, your words coming out slowly from the pain of your wound.

Lucy Gray expressed her tenderness with a slight smile. She calmly reached into the ruffles of her rainbow dress. Your eyes stay fixed on Lucy Gray, the knife never pointing away from her. She didn't mind the knife and your angry gaze. She must have understood your fear, this was the Hunger Games after all, and you couldn't trust anyone. She finally pulled her hand out of the ruffles, attaining a clear bottle of water and a dark compact. She shook her colorful skirt, hoping to prove she had nothing else.

“I don't have anything else, see?” Lucy Gray smiled graciously, putting the compact back in her pocket. Her movements were slow and steady. She kneeled, laying the clear bottle on its side, and rolled it to you.

You eye the bottle and Lucy Gray, looking between the two swiftly. Your body grew weak as your arm holding the blade faltered. “(Y/n), I don't plan on hurting you. I know you don't trust me and I respect that, this isn't the place to trust anyone,” Lucy Gray took a step closer.

The lights in the tunnels flickered as you gaze up at her. Each second gave the impression of hours. Each time you blinked, it felt like a day. You lowered the blade bit by bit until it rested at your side. You placed yourself against the wall and grabbed the water bottle, acting as though you were reluctant. Lucy Gray looked pleased by you wordlessly accepting her offer, so she sat down next to you.

Some part of you wanted to push her away, maybe even point the knife at her but you were too weak. Instead, you held the bottle to Lucy Gray, letting her take it from you. She took it from you carefully, as though the small action of taking it too fast would hurt you.

You kept your focus on her, even if your vision was dazed and a bit blurry. The girl poured water onto her dirt-covered fingers, washing the soot off before turning the bottle to your wound. You braced yourself as you felt the lukewarm water run against your injury. Waves of discomfort washed through your body but you didn't try to stop Lucy Gray from helping you.

Her touch was gentle, her fingers caressing the skin around the bloody injury. The blood stains on her fingers greatly contrasted with her tan skin.

Every touch on the sensitive skin and flesh was painful. Lucy Gray was careful, her touch was only uncomfortable. She took the knife from your grasp and brought it to finish cutting the clothing you had started. But she didn't use it immediately. She set the cloth onto her vibrantly covered lap, reaching for the roll of bandages.

You were somewhat faster to grab the knife from her, not wanting her to change her mind about helping you. Light glinted off the dirty blade, shining a small light onto the floor. It brought a small ounce of happiness to you. It was childish but it was nonetheless fun to move the reflected light. You twisted the handle and the reflected shine glided over the cement. Even if the blood loss was causing your change in mood, a smile crossed your lips as you moved it again.

Lucy Gray looked between taking care of your injury and at your complexion. The smile brought a small sense of comfort to her. Knowing that you were able to keep your mind off the wound, even if it was childlike, brought Lucy Gray a kind of reassurance. She didn't stress to take the blade from you too.

She instead focused on your leg. She wrapped the bandages tightly around the bloody wound, which caused you to wince. Lucy Gray shushed you calmly. “Take deep breaths, think happy thoughts,” she muttered as she kept up with her care. You nodded. Instead of going back to distracting yourself, you took in the details of her corset.

It was beautiful, the corsets design drew you in. Two snakes tied as a bow, a beautiful primrose in the center, and katniss flowers painted around it. A lovely primrose protected by katniss, ain't that sweet?

When your attention was led back to your leg, Lucy Gray had already finished. Your leg was covered in stained bandages, your thigh tightly wrapped with a tourniquet made from a part of your clothes.

Lucy Gray held the bottle of water to your mouth. You didn't reach for it but accepted her help with drinking from it. There was little left for you but you needed it, your mouth dry from drinking nothing for days.

When the bottle was finished, Lucy Gray smiled and set it to the side. She took your hand and encouraged you to move when she wanted you to. Lucy Gray wanted to move you like a puppet but you obliged. Her hands moved to your shoulder then your back, pulling you gently to face away from her.

The small action made you worry but you were too weak to ask her what she was doing. But your thoughts were answered fast when Lucy Gray pulled your head into her lap. The rainbow ruffles that decorated her skirt tickled the back of your neck.

You could feel Lucy Gray holding you close, yet her arms loose. You watched her as she smiled down at you, your head in her lap. The lively shades of red and purple made you feel as though you were in a flower bed. Lucy Gray’s voice came out quietly, it seemed she still thought you were weak. You were but you wouldn't admit that to her.

“I can get us food when we go into the arena again, but not now. I want you to rest, ok?” Lucy Gray said softly. Her hands were gentle as she touched you, her fingers gliding over your skin.

Your eyes fluttered as you stared up from her lap. The want to show that you didn't want to rest was prevalent in your head, you knew it couldn't be seen on your face. You wanted to grab your knife and force her to take you to get food but you realize it was a bad idea. Lucy Gray has the power in this situation. She could kill you if she wanted.

Your thoughts came to a stop as Lucy Gray started to sing, murmuring the words. The words were difficult for you to hear but it nonetheless brought comfort. She kept your head propped up on her lap. Her fingers traced an indiscernible pattern on the back of your hand. It was calming. And Lucy Gray was so sweet. As you had thought before, she could have murdered you with your weak stare, yet she took care of you.

Lucy Gray kept serenading you in a soft voice. The sound of her voice didn't carry far, it only carried to you and her. Lucy Gray sang for comfort, not only for you but for herself. Lucy Gray’s fear and stress were distinct. Her voice was slightly shaky and so were her hands. They kept grazing your skin, trailing her fingers along your arm. At her evident stress, you shifted your hand to intertwine with hers.

Lucy Gray’s voice somewhat faltered, not expecting your touch. But she didn't pull her hand away. She squeezed your hand and continued to sing. Her voice is stronger now.

Each touch comforted you, it almost made you feel like you were in an entirely different place. You weren't in the arena, you were in her comforting arms. You didn't feel the pain in your legs or the fear of the other tributes. You only felt Lucy Gray’s warmth.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the hymn made your fatigue grow. Your body loosened in Lucy Gray’s arms. She kept you close as the song she sang ended but continued to another. She belted out the tune with sympathy and kindness. Her voice brought so much comfort, the meaning of the song wouldn't have mattered to you. Lucy Gray could have sung about murdering people but it still would have carried a sweetness.

Exhaust filled your body but Lucy Gray spoke again.

“Good night, (Y/n). Sleep well,” Lucy Gray’s voice whispered with the evident sound of a smile. The words conveyed something to your mind, permission to sleep. Her words gave you acceptance to be weak (or weaker than before) with her.

And you finally slept. You slept in her arms, your head against her rainbow ruffles. You imagined you were in a field of beautiful flowers, rainbow flowers. Some part of you hoped that is where you would be when the Games are over.

Feel free to request any TBOSAS content if you liked this!

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willowser · 2 years

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i have this like one hc that pro-hero work involves a lot of traveling, especially in the beginning. they move here for six months and then there for four and then here for 14 and so on, just to get experience out in the field.

so it only makes sense you and bakugou end things, right at the start of his career.

and it's okay. it is. bc you both love each other and you know that, know that it's not ending bc of any huge, terrible fight that makes you enemies of one another. all the memories you'll carry can stay gold, not tarnished by anything other than the bittersweet distance.

getting used to it takes a little time, that's all; before he was your boyfriend, he was your friend, first and foremost. someone you had inside jokes with and had similar interests you could talk to about for hours, things that you only did with him and no one else. things only he knew. and not getting to tell him exciting news about college or ask if he saw the limited edition, golden age all might nendoroid they're releasing at the end of the year...sucks. it feels wrong, like these are things he's supposed to know, no matter what. things you're supposed to talk about.

you call him five months into his eight month nagoya contract and he doesn't answer. you think maybe he changed his number and didn't tell you, bc he doesn't actually have to anymore. bakugou has always been good about self control, keeping to himself, and it wouldn't surprise you if he's written you off without a second thought—bc this is how it's supposed to be when you break up with someone.

it's not until the next day that you get a text, late in the evening.

[9:26 PM] did you mean to call me

of course you did, but maybe you shouldn't have. hearing the line ring over and over again—it's cemented the realization that he's not thinking about you anymore. that he's moved on and you should too and he probably doesn't want to hear whatever if is you want to talk about. he'll probably just think you're weird. clingy.

yeah, but it's nothing important [9:32 PM]

he reads it immediately and—nothing happens. and you think that's it. hopefully you didn't come off too passive aggressive and now he thinks you're mad that he didn't answer. maybe you should have put an emoji, the little smiling one with the hands to show no biggie ! maybe you should have just said that, or that you couldn't remember the name of that hiking trail you did together two summers ago, but then you googled it and didn't need him anymore. or something.

he calls at 10:03.

your heart is in your throat when you pick up, beating like crazy bc you haven't heard his voice in a while. "uh, hello?"

and he hesitates too; his drawn out inhale doesn’t go unnoticed. "hey."

there's a brief period of silence on the line, some light shuffling on his end. sounds of cars passing, the rare honk of what traffic lingers this late at night. the wind scratches by, audible, and you shiver despite being in your own bed. you imagine him under a dim streetlight, fully outfitted.

bakugou huffs, "you called me?"

"yeah," you blink and sit up, though you don't know why. maybe because this needs your full attention, or because you don't want your voice to get muffled by your pillow. "i was just, uh—my roommate. she asked me if i've ever been to gekikara gourmet festival—"

"oh my god."

it's the exasperation in his voice that makes you laugh, so vivid, exactly as you remember it, and you can picture the face he must be making. "i know, i was like 'oh boy, have i'."

"d'you tell her you puked—"

"—with my head between my knees while sitting on that kiddie slide, yes i did."

he snorts, just the way he did as he patted the back of your head that night, awkwardly, standing beside you with a fist at his side. "told you not to try those fucking noodles."

you agree. "they were making even you sweat, i don't know what i was thinking."

it had been one of your first official dates, and you think all the spicy food didn't help with your restless nerves. it always felt stupid, looking back on it, to be so afraid; you'd known bakugou forever, and the only difference between that night and the many you'd spent before as friends was that he'd kissed your temple, lips red from spice and all. it was just bakugou, you thought. what was there to be anxious about?

and now the silence is making your stomach turn.

"yeah," you continue lamely, "nothing important, it just—made me think of you."

he doesn't say anything. if it weren't for the distant slam of something—a trash can lid or car door—you would think he hung up. he's always had a hard time with his words and you don't really even understand why he called instead of texting. if there was something he wanted to say to you, you aren't sure he could.

"so, i guess i'll let you—"

"y'got a roommate now?"

"uh, yeah." something ugly in your stomach wants there to be jealousy in his tone, and you shake your head to be rid of the thought. because it shouldn't matter. "she's in a couple of my classes. big fan of, like, kpop and stuff."

he snorts again and you can imagine the roll of his eyes, bright with amusement despite the frown on his lips. you love that look on him; so content that it felt out of his character, something he wanted to hide. being the cause of it has always been so sweet. "different apartment?"

"yeah, in a little dorm on campus." he didn't live with you long, just in the time between graduating and when his applications to agencies began returning acceptions. "couldn't afford that place by myself."

bakugou hums, and your eyes swim so suddenly that you have to take the phone away from your head. you wonder if he misses those days as much as you do. the simple life, doing the mundane together; washing clothes in the laundry room downstairs, having to clean the dishes by hand or the dishwasher would flood the tiny kitchen, taking quick showers together so that you'd both get hot water.

it was terrible. it was perfect. the kind of life you could never have, with dynamight.

his voice buzzes distantly and you sniff, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater before putting the phone back up to your ear.

"what'd you say?"

"that—" he huffs, "nothin'." you sniff again, unthinking, and he goes completely silent again. no inhale, no exhale.

he's not stupid. he probably knew this would happen and that's why he didn't want to answer. it was hard enough for him to get the words out the first time ("just gonna be shit, for you to be waitin'. eraser told me not to—won't be able to keep any fucking—and i don't wanna be some jackass that just lets you down all the fuckin' time.")

"sorry," you laugh because you feel awkward, because you didn't mean to force what you've been suffocating on him all at once. "i don't know what just happened."

bakugou mumbles, "s'fine."

you think that even if there was something he wanted to say, he wouldn't know how.

"but yeah," you sigh and scrub a hand over your face again. "no biggie, just thought it was funny when she asked and wanted to tell you. it's actually kind of late and i need to head to bed, but i'll—" talk to him later, is what you want to say, but your stomach drops and you know that it's not that easy. not anymore.

maybe it will be one day in the future, but this is the life you have to live, for now. all you can do is hold onto that hope, as your throat tries to tighten again.

"fuck, i—" he breathes, so frustrated that it nearly becomes a grunt, "y'don't know how—just, goddammit, in three months i'll—"

"i know," you tell him, and you smile like he can see it. in three months, he'll come back, to accept another contract, and then he'll be gone again. if there was a way to make it work, bakugou would have found it. of all people, bakugou would have found it. "it's okay," you tell him.

and it is. it is.

#wow whoops made myself cry LOL #no but like imagine dating him and getting like this taste for such a simple life #the crappy start up after graduating high school #when you can hardly afford you water bill and don't know what to do when the air conditioning breaks #trying to figure out adulthood together #and bakugou just won't get that #by the time he's out of school he's already been a child soldier #faced more in his life than most people ever will #he could never live a normal 9-5 with you and that's probably not even something he ever thought he would want #until he couldn't have it #BYE #on the other end he's gripping the phone and clenching his teeth so tight and curling into himself #as if he could submerse himself into your laugh just one more time #BYYYEEEE #bakugou drabble #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou

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thatfoxdog · 2 months

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Can I send in multiple requests? You can pick whichever is most interesting for you :P

He's a femboy rat you don't need to know anything else (I haven't developed him further).

Drew them a while ago and now I'm debating whether making them into a femboy pig (fempig?).

My sister said he looks like Kurt Cobain so maybe just slap a photo of Kurt Cobain on your post and call it a day?

Anyways, he's a stinky stable hand who dislikes animals (he grew up on a farm) but is very good at connecting to them easily (he grew up on a farm). Youngest of nine, his military obsessed father disliked him and made the rest of his sons shun him. He doesn't keep in contact with his family, except his dying mother (but no one else knows, especially not his father). While he dislikes most animals, he does have a soft spot for reptiles and amphibians.

He dyes his blond out of habit, since he spent five years dyeing his hair to get better grades. Make sense? No?

Basically his least favourite teacher was a creep who would fall for any blond student she had, even if he wasn't naturally blond, and would favour them in class so they liked her more. Instead of reporting this, he instead used it to his advantage and managed to graduate.

He's good at taking care of and talking to animals, weaseling his way out of situations and noticing traps and liars. He's bad at being on time, paying people and personal hygiene.

He's a human of 39 years and he lives in a fantasy world I still have to develop.

Ignore the fact you can tell I tried to draw his body and failed, please?

I don't have any more drawings of him, srry :(

Also my art sucks so uhhhh yeah?

gotta say that the Kurt Cobain-lookalike's design stood out to me the most! I've never drawn a beard before, so this was kind of a nice change of pace!! Hope you like it!! ^^

and don't say your art sucks!! everybody starts somewhere!! i myself wasn't able to draw humanoids until last year and still am learning!! don't beat yourself up over it

#art requests #oc #my art #oc art #artists on tumblr #art request #drawing requests #drawing request

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infoglitch · 9 months

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Nexus: ogre slayer [1/6]

(ha ha... So yeah. Season 1 is pretty damn short. Anyway I hope you all enjoy.)

[Season 1] "inari festival under threat"

We began in Hunter HQ as a red alert blares out. Johnson Lucius xander jay and some other hunters all emerged from the barracks. "What the hell it's been 11 days since the last read alert!" Jay shouted as a flat screen TV descended from the ceiling and started playing a audio.

"Attention hunters there's been a report of 12 ogre beats approaching the inari festival in the Tokyo district. 13 of you will be dispatched. Your mission is to evacuate the festival and then promptly either kill or dispel the ogre beasts" the audio said as a few hunters looked around and nodded to each other.

"Your transport will be waiting for you in the front of HQ we only need 13 hunters with a Hunter rank of 5." The audio continued then finally stopped playing as the TV was then lifted back up into the ceiling.

"Wait what do you mean by Hunter rank of five" Johnson asked confused. "Oh you see every Hunter starts off at rank 10 which is the lowest rank. And zero being the highest" jay answered. "So basically leveling up?" Johnson said as Jay and xander nodded.

"Well then I guess me and Lucius are out of the equation all right you two what Hunter rank are you at?" Johnson asked.

"I'm at Hunter rank 4 and Jay is at Hunter rank 5" xander said. "Well alrighty then get going people are in danger!" Lucius said.

Jay and Xander nodded and headed to the transport. They got on along with 11 other hunters and the transport Departed.

"So I guess you got a new team now huh?" Jay asked looking at Xander. Xander looked back then sighed "yeah I guess.... Okay look Jay I'm sorry I left but-" Xander said "no I get it you didn't want..... you didn't want another rin to happen...." Jay said looking down.

".... This is more then just about me having a partner isn't it?" Xander asked. Jay didn't say a word. "Jay. answer me." Xander said sternly.

"Why did you have to leave me..... I get the fact that rin dying sucked but.... I thought what we had was special!" Jay said. Xander shook his "so it is about me breaking up with you. Look Jay our relationship was failing. you wanted to retire have kids but I wasn't ready I still care for you but that spark we once had is dead, our relationship is dead." Xander said bluntly. Jay sighed and they simply didn't talk for the rest of the ride.

The transport finally stopped and the doors opened the hunters exited the transport and saw 5 ogre stags, 3 ogre hounds and finally 4 ogre boars. No wonder this hunt was was rank five and up required. This was an invasion.

We see Xander and Jay get off the transport as Jay took off his backpack they had carried around. He then took out a remote pressed it and then the backpack transformed into a command center.

"I see you haven't changed your technology at all Jay." Xander said as Jay started typing away at his computer. "How else am I supposed to connect to the mech lobbies I've created hundreds of." Jay retorted.

Xander shook his head and then went along with every other Hunter to evacuate the civilians from the festival.

Once they got into the festival the hunters immediately started evacuating the entire area leading families to safety halting all rides and taking off anyone who was still on a ride as well as overall creating an area to where there'll be able to have little to no casualties. The hunters then took out all their weapons and got into their battle positions.

It was going to take a while for Jay to connect to his mech lobbies so the main idea of the hunters was to simply take down as many ogre beats as possible until Jay was able to completely lock down the area and then access one of his mechs.

As they waited with their weapons drawn a ogre boar put its hands on top of the ginormous fence that surrounded the entire festival. And in one fluid motion the Beast tore down the fence as its eyes glowed pink like every other ogre boar. Then five over stags stormed the arena as well as every other ogre Beast.

Xander looked around and started to assess the situation there was currently 12 hunters ready to go into action each one of them was either a rank five or one.

Considering how they each probably have enough skill to take down a single ogre Beast it would make sense for them to stick to fighting one.

Xander ready to sword and after looking around for a bit he had the perfect plan. "Kangaroo style fang three. Outback bolt!" Xander shouted as he leaped forwards towards a pipe and turned his body to the correct angle to land on said pipe then bouncing off it having his sword sheathed.

He was headed straight towards one of the ogre hounds as it reared it's ugly head and opened its quadruple hinged jaw to its fullest as it released a Sonic howl towards the other hunters. Xander could feel his momentum starting to slow. He needed to find something to bounce off of.

He looked around but saw nothing until a giant mechanical hand shot its way through and went right under Xander allowing him to jump off it.

'jay I swear you have the most convenient timing' Xander thought to himself as he landed onto the blue mechanical arm and leaked off it gaining back a lot of the momentum he had lost. Xander unsheathed his sword weird his blade back. As he got closer he swung his sword absolutely cleaving the Beast neck in half.

Then the mechanical hand caught Zander as another one emerged and slugged one of the ogre boars in the face.

Then we see the colossal mech known as atlas. it's long spray painted cobalt arms powered by Pistons and motors as well as a gear system that allowed the arm to move and bend like that of a human. It's legs were equal as long if not longer. Then we see it's supposedly muscular upper body with a giant window in its chest cavity its head was absent.

Then we hear the familiar voice of jay saying "ganbare motherfuckers.". Then the ogre stages reared their horns as a thunderstorm approached.

Then a bolt of lightning struck the antlers of the Beasts as their mouths started glowing.

Then both the ogre stags and ogre hounds opened up their mouths and the ogre hounds released a devastating Sonic screech and the ogre stags released a giant beam of electricity.

All of the attacks seeming to be aimed at the hunters and the mech. This would normally be the end for any normal person.

"God speed!" A voice shouted Then two bolts of red and purple electricity fly by and turn into Johnson and Lucius as Lucius threw his axes absorb the electricity and into the ogre hounds mouths. He then closed his fists "Zeus Divine thunder!" Lucius shouted as purple electricity erupted from the ogre hounds tearing them apart from the inside out until they were nothing but Ash. Meanwhile Johnson prepared his blade and swung it into one of the ogre stags antlers cutting both of them off.

Then Lucius grabbed Johnson after his axes returned to him using his concentrated electromagnetism. "Godspeed" lucius shouted as he and Johnson turned back to red and purple lightning and zipped down to the ground.

When they got down there Johnson high fived Lucius as they watched as the ogre Beasts retreated.

The mechanical hand went downwards and landed on the ground as Xander hopped off it. "What the hell are you two doing here I thought you were at base!" Xander shouted frustrated.

Johnson turned to Xander "well Mr grumpy pants what we just did was take down the rest of the ogre Beast without even having to kill all of them we scared those fuckers off with our sheer strength that my friend is an accomplishment!" Johnson said proudly.

Xander sighed "well at least everyone's safe and I would be normally pissed that you two but considering how you did help us finish the job I can't really get mad at you for that" he said.

"Alrighty then everyone head back to the transport" Jay said through the mechs megaphone.

Objective: protect the inari festival from ogre beasts.

Status: Victory.

Meanwhile We see a masked figure standing over a building watching as every Hunter got onto the transport yet mainly focused on Johnson. The masked figures emerald eye glowed bright red.

End of season 1

/////

Ay there ya fucks this may be the end of season 1 but y'all are in for three more stories before season 2.

#nexus: ogre slayer #original story #johnson red #xander oakgreen #lucius blackwell #original fiction

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cipherbunz · 3 years

Text

DWD OC month day 1!! ...a day late. Introducing the ocs!!!

this right here's my fanvillain Heatwave! also known by her civillian name, Bonnie Bonfire!

some info about her: -she's a vampire bat -she's around 19-20 years old -she and Splatter Phoenix (whom I headcanon being about 21-22) are girlfriends -she usually comes across as somewhat creepy and unnerving towards others -she loves scary movies, and anything morbid or creepy in general -she's supposed to be, like, another member of the Fearsome Five (or Six I guess???) -her original parents suck and she accidentally gets adopted by the Fearsome Four (she kinda doubles as a stand-alone DWD oc and a fankid?) -relating to the last two points, it happens in that order. first she's just another member of the Fearsome Five (or Six), then just. whoops she has four entire dads now -I haven't really drawn her with them yet (and probably won't bc I cant currently draw rn, which is why Im just using this same picture of Heatwave I keep using), but Heatwave's like. around Megavolt's height? -she can control fire via an amulet she stole from a museum

sorry Im doing this a day late, I really wanted to participate but I thought I had to do a whole new drawing for her fhfkh;asf,,,, I dont really know if I'll get to participate more bc we're moving and stuff, but Im glad I was able to do at least one of the days, even if its late <:D

@duckverseoc

#darkwingocmonth #my ocs #my art #dwd ocs #darkwing duck ocs #im not entirely sure if any of this is coherent #i think this is like. the first time i had all of these details about Heatwave in one post #ive never really participated in any of these month things so im just. kinda nervous gaskhjk;fjk;sfahsfa

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greycappedjester · 3 years

Note

hello!! ^___^ you stated that the next update of haikyuu at hogwarts would be on may 15th, i haven't been keeping up with your tumblr lately.. when will the next update be? :o /lh

Hey there! I’m working on finishing it up today :)

Just got done with finals so I’m running a couple days behind. I’m expecting it to be out either tonight or tomorrow morning, judging on how much writing I can get done tonight.

Since it’s late of the 15th, here’s the first scene

-------

Yamaguchi squinted towards the other side of the Great Hall. “So have they….made up now?”

A few tables down, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to be in the middle of a very loud and very spirited argument on whether condiments could ever count as side dishes. Grevious insults to intellginece and threats of murder had both been made.

“I think so.” Ennoshita didn’t sound confident.

Hinata attempted to tackle Kageyama off of his bench.

“But, they’re still not playing together for Quidditch,” Yamaguchi confirmed

Kageyama shoved an apple in Hianta’s face.

Asahi watched wide-eyed. “They said they couldn’t yet.”

A resulting debate over the term 'breakfast fruit’ emerged. It was somehow even more heated.

“But, they’re not fighting?” Yamaguchi had to confirm.

“Suga says they aren’t,” Daichi said.

They had now decided to share the apple. Yachi beamed from beside them.

Yamaguchi decided there and then. “I’m never going to understand their relationship.”

“They’re idiots,’ Tsukishima concluded.

And, thus, the most watched and highly contentious fight of the entire school year--Tournament included--finally came to its baffling end.

“Anyway,” Daichi moved on, “we have bigger things to talk about.”

The mood at the table immediately plummeted as if a grim had just stepped by.

Flumpy.

“It’s been weeks,” Asahi said, running a shaky hand through his hair. “We’ve been watching him constantly! How haven’t we found anything?”

In the middle of the table, Flumpy sat, napping.

Yamaguchi slumped in his bench. “I think I’ve aged twenty-years. This is the worst.”

“Maybe that’s Flumpy’s secret power,” Ennoshita said. “Unrelenting anguish….Actually, that would fit. Maybe he has something to do with moods--like a boggart or a dementor.”

“I think we’d notice if he was changing into nightmares or sucking out our souls,” Tsukishima remarked. “That we can handle.”

“So, whatever Flumpy’s doing, he’s doing it subtly,” Ennoshita argued. “He’s smart, crafty. He’s the type of creature that enjoys hunting his prey.”

“But, that just makes it harder to catch him.” Daichi sighed. “We need proof--solid proof. If not, Noya and Tanaka are just going to deny it.”

“It would help if they just told us,” Yamaguchi grumbled.

“He’s got a point.” Asahi tugged at his sleeves. “....we could just ask. It’s Noya. It’s not like he’ll lie if we tell them that we already know something’s up with Flumpy. Noya just….underestimates the danger and doesn’t like to worry us.”

“All of which makes it even more concerning that they haven’t told us yet,” Tsukishima put in. “Merlin, at this rate, Flumpy really is going to kill us. This time we don’t even have a warning.”

“It’s not that bad,” Daichi straightened his shoulders. “We can still do this. We’ve handled a lot worse than Flumpy….probably. The point is to always stay calm, stick together, and don’t make things seem worse than they are. It won’t help us at all if we start catastrophizing. Then, we’ll never figure out what makes Flumpy’s so dangerous. We have to stay rational.”

The group nodded reluctantly.

“And with that, we only know three things.” Daichi held up a finger. “One: There’s something definitely off about Flumpy.”

Nods again.

“Two: whatever it is, Noya and Tanaka have to know. If not, they wouldn’t be interested this long.”

Grimaces but general nods.

Daichi held up the third finger. “And, finally, I think it’s safe to say by now. That, unless we have proof, Noya and Tanaka are never--never--going to tell us on their own.”

“Hey, guys…..”

The table all jumped.

Noya and Tanaka stopped in front of them. Their normal smiles were gone, replaced with drawn expressions and tight eyes that spoke of lack of sleep. Their shoulders were tense, looking to each other more than meeting the eyes of the group. Most of all, they weren’t even launching themselves towards breakfast.

In short, something was very, very wrong.

“Listen,” Noya started, voice hesitant, “we have….there’s something we have to tell you.”

At once, everyone went tense.

“We’ve been working on something this year,” Tanaka added. “More than just this year, actually. Something secret--sorry, we didn’t want to tell you guys until we knew more.”

Five pairs of eyes went to the flobberlump laying at the table. He was awake now, watching.

“W-what is it,” Asahi asked first.

Noya shook his head. “Not here. Later. This isn’t….this isn’t the kind of thing we want getting out until we know what to do.” His gaze flicked to Tanaka. “In our dorm, tonight. That’s where we have the research.”

“Research?” Yamaguchi went pale. “It’s that serious?”

Noya grimaced and Tanaka sighed.

“Yeah,” Tanaka admitted. “If we’re right, it could be deadly. For a whole lot of people.”

The collective pulse of the table skyrocketed.

Noya grabbed Tanaka’s shoulder, looking around the Great Hall. “Not here, not now. We’ll explain it to you guys later, okay?” He scooped Flumpy off the table, putting him in his pocket as the rest of the table nearly had a heart attack. “Just come to our dorm tonight.”

And, with that, both Tanaka and Noya left the Great Hall, the flobberlump still safely with them.

As one, the remaining Crows met each other’s eyes.

“Merlin,” Asahi swore.

They didn’t like being wrong; but, they found they hated being right.

Flumpy really was the most dangerous creature alive.

#hq at hogwarts

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james-stark-the-writer · 6 years

Text

Get to Know the Writer

So, @lilac-written tagged me in this. Guess I'll do it. Got nothing better to do atm.

1. PENS OR PENCILS

Pens only, unfortunately. Gels if I care about handwriting and have the time to go slow. Ball point if I'm in a hurry.

The only time I'll use a pencil is when I don't care about anyone reading what I'm writing or if it's just some jargon I don't care about.

I'm left handed so every time I use a pencil, it'll smudge everywhere. So, it's a no no to the pencils.

2. HAVE YOU EVER DRAWN YOUR OCs?

No. Believe me, you don't want to see anything I ever draw. Drawing is one of the countless things I suck at.

3. DOES YOUR WRITING EVER MAKE YOU CRY?

Unfortunately, not so far. I'd say it's mostly cause there just haven't been that many powerful scenes I've written. I mean, there's two powerful scenes that stuck out at emotional but I listen ot music when I write so most of it is just replaced by Brendon Urie.

4. IF YOUR MUSE WAS EVER A PERSON, WHAT WOULD THEY LOOK LIKE?

The most horrible (or probably beautiful depending on the features) monster ever. So, it'd be mix of Matt Bomer, Brendon Urie, Adelaide Kane, Eliza Dushku, Nathan Fillion and Neil Patrick Harris. With a few bits of Tom Ellis, Daniel Craig and Josh Dallas thrown in for good measure.

5. WHICH OF YOUR PIECES WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO BE REMEMBERED ABOUT?

Most probably The Game For Power or A Year At The Opera (I'm still in the planning phases of the latter)

6. HOW MUCH HAVE YOU WRITTEN OR WORKED ON YOUR WIP SO FAR TODAY?

Well, I had a new idea for the ending of TGFP so I scrapped the last three chapters (setting me back about 15K words). But, its at 120K words atm. AYATO is still in the outlining and planning phases. I'm still sorting out the characters and plot. But I outlined two chapters of AYATO today. I had decided to go back to an old novel but I got the idea for AYATO a few weeks ago and it just got stuck in my head so I decided to put off the old novel.

7. HAVE YOU EVER BASED A PIECE (OR PORTION OF A PIECE) IN A DREAM?

Uh, yeah. Who hasn't? I had a very weird dream one night that I started to write a book about. I got about 10K words in before realising the idea was shit and it'd never work other than as a satire piece. It's in a folder labelled Story Ideas I Might Write One Day as of today (It was on Wattpad till two days ago).

8. DO YOU PREFER SILENCE, A LITTLE NOISE (some light music, fan noise, humming etc), A LOT OF NOISE WHEN YOU'RE WRITING?

Honestly, it depends. If I'm writing a chapter, or just about any scene I'm stuck on, I like a lot of noise. Heavy metal or just being in a classroom works. Some smooth jazz or maybe 50s music if I'm on a scene I'm excited to write. If I'm trying to come up with an idea about a part I'm stuck on, I like silence. But, if I'm outlining, I have a dedicated writing playlist that I listen to so my brain works and it's just amazing creative songs. (PM me if you want the list or something)

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY ROUTINES BEFORE YOU SIT DOWN TO WRITE?

Not really. I do like to set a word count (a reasonable one like five hundred words) that I'd like to (don't have to) reach in that session. If I'm not writing, I set a very small goal that I'd like to do. If I'm outlining, I'll probably say to finish a character's POV. If I'm thought dumping, I'll probably challenge myself to complete two pages full of ideas. Just anything will do. It's fun when it works. Infuriating af when it doesn't.

10. HAVE YOU EVER PARTICIPATED IN NANOWRIMO OR ANY CAMP?

No. But, I've done a version of it myself. So, back when I was working on my second novel, which will never see the light of day, I forced myself to not write anything for three months (just outlining, character Profiles or thought dumping was allowed)and then spend an entire month writing. I only did it the one time. I got thirty eight thousand something words in by the end of the month.

Top 10 Writeblrs:

@cogwrites @writings-of-a-narwhal @writingwithteacups @bellarosepope @brynwrites @grimmwrites @andiiwrites @delphwrites @riverlinden @three-seas-writes

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willowser · 1 year

Text

I posted 2,029 times in 2022

464 posts created (23%)

1,565 posts reblogged (77%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@saintshigaraki

@spacelabrathor

@willowser

@tatakaeeren

@phen0l

I tagged 2,009 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#bnha - 499 posts

#jjk - 271 posts

#ask willow - 259 posts

#shut up willow - 153 posts

#about willow - 78 posts

#csm - 67 posts

#aot - 58 posts

#bnha spoilers - 44 posts

#bye - 44 posts

#pleased to meet you: dabi - 41 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and at the end of the hall is a great portrait of a man with long hair — black as night — and red eyes that still gleam after all this time

My Top Posts in 2022:

so it only makes sense you and bakugou end things, right at the start of his career.

it's not until the next day that you get a text, late in the evening.

[9:26 PM] did you mean to call me

yeah, but it's nothing important [9:32 PM]

he calls at 10:03.

your heart is in your throat when you pick up, beating like crazy bc you haven't heard his voice in a while. "uh, hello?"

and he hesitates too; his drawn out inhale doesn’t go unnoticed. "hey."

bakugou huffs, "you called me?"

"oh my god."

it's the exasperation in his voice that makes you laugh, so vivid, exactly as you remember it, and you can picture the face he must be making. "i know, i was like 'oh boy, have i'."

"d'you tell her you puked—"

"—with my head between my knees while sitting on that kiddie slide, yes i did."

he snorts, just the way he did as he patted the back of your head that night, awkwardly, standing beside you with a fist at his side. "told you not to try those fucking noodles."

you agree. "they were making even you sweat, i don't know what i was thinking."

and now the silence is making your stomach turn.

"yeah," you continue lamely, "nothing important, it just—made me think of you."

"so, i guess i'll let you—"

"y'got a roommate now?"

See the full post

909 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

today i am thinking about. like. soulmate/arranged marriage au with bakugou.

it's common to get married once you find your pre-destined other half, bc there isn't anyone else out there for you, anyway, and it takes a little while for you and him to come across one another. late twenties even, and by this time, you're both so sure you're defective and that it will never happen and have given up completely on ever knowing what love is.

(you — a painfully average human being — having to be pried from your car after a minor accident. by pro-hero dynamight. and he touches you and you touch him and an oven timer goes off in your head. some box is checked deep inside your heart. both of you, at the exact same time, think: oh. it's you.

and then you're left standing at an intersection, awkwardly staring at one another as you're swarmed by media and fans and the other driver of the car, who is demanding all your insurance information.)

your wedding night is — boring; you sleep with your back to one another and don't say much beyond half-hearted conversation. he looks angry or deep in thought 99% of the time, frowning, and even though you knew that from seeing him on tv for years, it's more intimidating up close and in your face.

dynamight — bakugou — is gone a lot of the time, with work, leaving you alone in his nice three-bedroom more often than not. it's comforting almost, because you don't particularly feel anything for this man and you're allowed to expand in his space without being under his metallic gaze, making it your own as you please.

it's not unusual for you to fall asleep without him in a big, empty bed, untouched and unbothered — though he doesn't do either even when he's in it. he keeps his distance and you want him to, for now at least; you kissed once during the ceremony and a handful of times after that, when it felt right: after he made you dinner, two weeks into your marriage; when he got in from dubai after being gone for 12 days; you met kirishima and ashido recently — finally, they said — and he'd surprised you in the garage afterwards, leaning a little more into it than he typically does, though you think his two, small glasses of something amber and sweet at dinner might have helped with that.

not this morning though. because you'd been more than half asleep and hadn't even noticed him all night and therefore weren't even prepared to say goodbye. a hand at on your shoulder, maybe, before he left and then —

and then mina called. to tell you what happened. what hospital. how bad it was.

"he's uh—" you're blank, voice lost under the chatter of the emergency room, blinking at the receptionist in surprise. all the beeping and the squeak of shoes across the linoleum, the hurried instruction and calls for clear! are making you — "bakugou, he's uh—katsuki is—"

you're feeling a lot of things, and nothing, all at once. mostly regret, furious with yourself at the simple fact that you didn't even wake up properly to tell him goodbye, to have a nice day, that you never do. it's been almost half a year and you haven't even called him by his first name to his face, haven't given him permission to call you by yours. he's never seen you naked and you've been too scared to know if you even wanted him to.

you've been complacent in the distance and now it's getting further and further, as a machine flatlines just down the hall.

"my wife,"

when you turn, katsuki's standing across the lobby, peeking out from a room that's much quieter, that looks less intense. half of his face is bandaged up and his arm is in a sling, but — he looks —

"she's my wife," he croaks again, and mina appears, too, cringing under the heated glare he gives her. "told you 'm fine."

you feel a lot of things, all at once, but when he fixes you with his sleepy, half-lidded gaze, blinking soft and slow and gentle, you think: oh. of course it's you.

919 notes - Posted September 6, 2022

oh me, oh my, the cowboy bakugou brainrot that i have HAD. i've decided he's perfect for it. 100% has it down pat. whew doggy. can you IMAGINE him in his levi's and his soft cotton tee and his square-toed work boots hello??? HELLO???? and a HAT goodbye

he's like. okay so he's this guy from your teeny home town, right. someone you knew in high-school, maybe weren't friends with but had classes together and had friends of friends of each other. and he was always kind of an asshole and had a truck by the time he was like 16 and never could go out on the weekends or stay out late bc he was always helping his dad. and he never left -- but you did.

and you come back on a random night, for whatever reason, and your old friends take you out to some local bar that you can't believe is still up and open and running and. he's there. little drunk and loud and so fucking handsome. tan from working outside, fit from lifting hay and roping horses and his hands are rough and maybe a little dirty and he's just in a shirt and jeans but god. he looks so good.

and he's so smooth too. all "fancy seein' you here" and "looks like someone grew up right", smells like fresh cut grass and sharp aftershave. pats your hips to get your attention. oh yeah, you're going home with him. no doubt. he still drives that fucking truck, single cab, and before he even can get out of the parking lot, he's got a hand up your shirt and his mouth on yours and he's got to physically strap himself in so he can drive back to his house.

and he's great and rough and you can't believe the best sex of your life is from this country boy from back home. wild.

but. he's still kind of an asshole. and by the morning, he's grouchy and not as smooth and leavin' by the crack of dawn bc he's got shit to do. the little chickens in his yard are talking outside his window while you get dressed, maneuvering around his home as carefully as you can. being in there alone, knowing he's probably ready to be rid of you -- makes you feel like you're doing something wrong. so you call your friend to come get you, sitting on his porch -- that he built himself, by the way -- and just. watching him. out in the field, sheepdog running behind him and the horse he's riding. he's got his hat on bc the sun is fully out by now and beating down on the back of his neck and you can tell he's already sweating.

he lives a little further out of town than you or your friend realized, so you're just waiting when he comes back to sit beside you on the porch, all quiet. his dog comes up too, relishing in all the attention you give him until bakugou pushes him away, telling him to get on.

he doesn't smile as much now that he's sober, just frowns at you. "didn't think i'd see you 'round here again."

the dog comes back and you don't care. you scratch at his fluffy ears anyway. "didn't think you'd notice i was even gone."

he snorts, boots scuffing in his gravel drive as he shifts. "don't be dumb, 'course i noticed."

and you two weren't friends in high-school, hardly ever spoke to one another. maybe saw him in the hallway or thanked him when he opened doors for you. sat in front of him in class or next to him on those rare friday night football games he got to go to, when it was starting to get cold and he would give you the carhart off his own back just 'cause you were shivering and he ran hot anyway.

and he still does, beside you on the porch. when you look up from his dog, he's peering at you with all that heat, tipping his hat up a little to see you better.

"got eggs 'n shit, if you're hungry. if you wanna --" he lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe at sweat on his brow and yeah. yes. whatever he's gonna say. yes. "if you wanna stay and eat."

good thing you got no phone signal out there, bc you didn't really wanna leave anyway.

1,184 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

look. i just. want to talk about bakugou after your first big fight. bc i think he eventually becomes the type of person that knows when he's being too mean but he still can't stop. like you say one thing in defense to him and he takes it a step too far and immediately thinks, why the fuck did i say that—and then you get angrier and so he gets angrier and his inner monologue is just like shut up shut up shut up shut up before you say something you don't mean literally stop.

and so maybe he leaves, just to cool off.

not in the middle of the fight, but it's not resolved either. there's a lull between the little back and forth quips, all the "well i'm not saying that you—" and the "no, you're fuckin' saying—", the "don't cuss at me, katsuki—" and the "then don't talk to me like 'm—" and then it's silent. he's got more to say and so do you—but at the same time, he's just. over it. whatever started the argument in the first place has been left behind, anger moreso stemming from what's happened since the first shot was taken (by him, of fucking course), and he doesn't want to fight with you of all people. not you.

and the longer he's gone, the more it just spins around and around in his head. everything he said and the way he said it and why he said it, why the fuck did he say it. bakugou is—he's too used to fighting, too good at it bc that's all anyone has ever done with him. that's all anyone has ever shown him, that irritation, that push-back, that quick judgement and eventual avoidance. fed up with it. with him.

by the time he comes home—if he can call it that anymore—he knows it's over. he knows this is the part with the "i just don't think it's working out—" and the "really can't handle this right now—", the "you're an asshole—" and the—

and the worst of all is just the abandonment. the worst of all is when he'll come back to that apartment and you'll just be gone. you'll come and get your things over time, stuffing it all into cardboard until there aren't any traces left. until all that's there is the walls and the carpet and the frame and just. bakugou. alone. again.

but he walks through the door and you're just—there. washing some dishes, folding the laundry, poking at your phone because you can't sit still. and you frown at him with a little crease between your eyebrows, bc you're still mad and he knows this is it, this is when you look him in the eye and you tell him—

"i can't find the tv remote."

".......y'always lose the—the freakin' thing. did you check under the couch?"

"that's the first place i looked."

and you stand up to prove you're not sitting on it and he shakes out the throw blanket you were using and sticks his hand between the couch cushions and he finds a bunch of coins, a sock, that pair of underwear he took off of you the last time he had a night off—and the f—reakin' tv remote.

and you rest your forehead on his chest and you're pouting and you mumble out a, "thanks," even though you probably don't want to. you probably do a lot of things you don't want to do, with him. because of him. things you probably don't want to do anymore because you're fed up. and this is it. this is it.

"i love you, jerk."

when you wrap your arms limply around him, he doesn't say anything. because he can't. he can't shut up when he wants to, and he can't speak up when he wants to, and it's something you're probably tired of, maybe, he's not actually sure, but you let him bury his face into your hair and you pretend you don't notice that he's trembling just a little and that you can feel his racing heartbeat through his back.

bakugou doesn't say anything, because he can't, so you just lean into him a little more and you say,

"still love you."

and you pretend not to hear the deep inhale that he takes or the little groan he lets out, and you pretend not to feel the clench of his jaw or the barely-there wobble of his chin. and you say,

"still gonna choose to love you."

because you don't love him by accident. even with his irritation and his push-back, his smart-ass quips and his angry language. you see it all and you see him and you still say,

"always gonna love you."

and that's how bakugou knows where his home is. what it is. that's how he knows it's you, of all people.

2,514 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i keep going back to this thought of like adult, pro-hero, brick-wall-of-a-man bakugou still being just so insecure. like he works hard for his body and he's not stupid, he knows that it's strong and is what it needs to be for his line of work, for being a pro, for protecting those that he loves—but he's always had an issue with...people.

yeah, as an older man, that's fallen away some and he's learned to let go of all the little battles he wants to start, how to ignore challenges that aren't there, but he's still bakugou, and people have this perception of him and his personality and attitude and he knows it's not unfounded, but...what good is there to say about him, really? that he's got a fit body? big fucking whoop.

a hot body isn't what's gonna keep you around.

and it's frustrating, because you smile at him and laugh at the shitty things he says and you forgive him, even when he can't apologize, and you understand the space he just needs sometimes. there are days when he wants to sleep alone because he'd done it all of his life, until you came around, and there are days he doesn't want to speak—to you or anybody—because every little thing is grating on his nerves, there are days when he wants to get out of the house and fuck off to hike, somewhere far without cell service, and only come back once he's sweaty and tired and in need of a shower.

and that's—he's not stupid. who wants to put up with that? him, and all that he entails? all you have to just accept, because he doesn't know how to change it.

it's not as if he doesn't want to spend time with you; some days that's all he wants. your attention, your touch, your little affections, your approval. a reminder that you do still love him, even after everything, and yeah, you say it every night and every morning and before you hang up the phone, but—what about all the times in between? even when he wants to be alone, he still thinks about you, too much maybe, for how much space he's willingly created for himself.

the face you make when you eat something too soon from the oven or when you pretend not to cry at some stupid movie. the shirt you wore last thursday and how well the color looked against your skin. how warm you are first thing in the morning, when he rolls over to make sure you're still there. what you smell like right out of the shower—do you smell like him, on the days you wear his shirts out of the house? does it make you think about him, too, all day? do you even like the way he smells or the way he dresses? how he cuts his hair or the shoes he wears on casual days, when he doesn't have to go work and he's not having dinner with his witch of a mother?

you're...attracted to him. right? gotta be, because if you aren't then all you have is his personality and that—there's just no fucking way. you've gotta be, because you kiss him and touch him and bother him in the shower and sometimes he looks at you across the table and you're giving him this look that drives him fucking crazy and—he's just bad at asking for things, for anything. 'specially for you.

sometimes you make him feel like a virgin fucking schoolboy, that doesn't know how to touch or be touched and so he does petty shit, little things that are supposed to drive you crazy, too. not like he really knows for sure, because the minute you look too long when he's shirtless, he wants to launch his own embarrassing ass off a cliff. he'll never admit to it, but yeah, he eats strawberries that way on purpose, messy while watching you, and he stands at the edge of your bed in a low-slung towel until he's nearly dry, just furthering some mindless conversation so that you'll stay awake and looking at him. when he's at the gym, he'll send a snapchat he took way too long posing for, just to respond with a "yeah", or he'll pretend he doesn't know why it's a big deal that he decided to forgo boxer briefs under his sweatpants.

bakugou wants to be wanted, but he doesn't know how to make himself worth wanting, and doesn't know how to ask either—but he's learning; placing his face between your shoulderblades when he wants you to turn to him in bed, resting his forehead on your knee when he's sorry and can't say why, drawing a heart on a sticky note, quick and shitty, before he has time to get embarrassed, nipping at the skin under your earlobe when he wants you, the blush on his cheeks probably searing into the skin of your neck.

insecure but trying, trusting. isn't that what love is anyway?

4,197 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

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#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #did i really refrog from myself that much ?? LOL

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