#i hope the spruce is still standing though

[tchaikovskym]

you can combat dreading the work week by going to the woods on a Saturday and getting a huge christmas tree that is enough of a size to fit in a large atrium instead of your small office, and just setting it up there and wondering how your coworkers will react in the morning

10/10 recommend, it really does work

#things that happen at work #i had a delightful weekend dare i say #i hope the spruce is still standing though

[kookslastbutton]

Can't Help It, I Love You ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: Finally getting a day off, your boyfriend takes you out on a date. Everything is sickeningly sweet until you visit a cute little lingerie store. All he wants to do now is get busy in the dressing room.

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

AU/genre: fluff, smut, established relationship

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Oh you know, just soft coupley things that make me wanna squeal and then…, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, semi-public sex, sex in front of the mirror, foreplay, dirty talk, penetration, breath play, vaginal fingering, breast play, tiny bit of biting, cunnilingus, a lot of licking….lets just say that, overstimulation, tiny bit of degradation at the end (jk calls reader a whore, reader says she wants to be called a slut), light ass spanking

Now Playing: Paradise - Bazzi

A/N: hi guys 👀 me again lmao...i love established relationship AUs so dang much so i wrote this. I hope you enjoy 😗💜

Twisting in front of your bedroom mirror, you allow the delicate material of your dress to flow around your figure. You and Jungkook have agreed that spending the day together is much needed after your crazy, off the wall schedules keeps menacing with your relationship. Nothing in particular is planned though, it’ll be wherever the day takes you.

A pair of soft hands reach forward and set along your waist as you pat yourself down. You smile seeing your exceptionally handsome boyfriend in the reflection, his head calmly rests on your shoulder.

“You ready?” Jungkook pecks your cheek. The subtle action has every bone in your body quivering.

“In a minute,” you reply, taking in his appearance. Black t-shirt paired with a light jacket, dark washed jeans, and of course, he’s got his piercings in. His hair’s freshly washed too, locks still damp.

“Okay, but you look gorgeous as is,” he insists. “You don’t need to keep sprucing up you know.”

“But I want to look pretty for you.” You casually shoot back.

Jungkook pecks your cheek again. “You’re beautiful.” He pecks the side of your neck. “You’re sexy.” And turns your face towards his to peck your lips. “I love you always. Let’s go.”

You let out a small whine but he laces his fingers into yours and leads you out of the room.

Your date starts with brunch at a nearby cafe. The atmosphere is welcoming upon entrance. Everything is clean and consists of warm colors ranging from an intense orange to blush blue. It’s moderately crowded being the weekend but you manage to claim a window seat.

While you wait for a server, a few diners gaze your direction from a table diagonal to yours. They seem to be giggling and whispering to each other. You’re unsure what all the gossip's about until you realize they’re staring at your boyfriend. You suppress a smile but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You look like you have something to share,” Jungkook speaks up, intrigued.

“Mm.” You shake your head, denying the accusation.

“Tell me.”

“You just…have some admirers is all.”

Jungkook whips his head around at your words, scanning the room carefully. Grin spreads timidly across his face when he notices the group of individuals you’re referring to. He gives a tiny wave their direction, causing them to turn excitedly amongst each other.

“And what about you?” He returns his focus to you. “Are you my admirer too?”

“Maybe,” shoulders shrug as you crook your head sideways.

“How ‘bout now?” He leans over and steals a kiss.

“Maybe yes.”

“That’s not a definite answer. Should I keep giving you kisses until you admit you’re mine?” Lips move to capture yours again but the clearing of a throat puts it at a halt.

Jungkook yanks himself back in his original upright position, blinking up at your waitress standing at the edge of the table. The young woman greets you both with a cheerful smile that says get a room.

.

After brunch you decide to walk to the creek, arms entangling with one of his. It's been a secret place for the both of you since first getting together. Sure, a few other people know about it but it's tucked in, mostly hidden from the public eye. You and Jungkook happened to stumble upon it during one of your spontaneous outings. The steepness of the climb has had you secured in his grip many times before but you assure him you're well capable to trail down yourself today.

"Watch your step," he cautions, allowing you in front of him. “Don’t go too fast.”

"I got it, I got-Ahh!"

Okay maybe you're not so capable as you thought. One wrong step and you're sliding down the hill with Jungkook anxiously racing down to catch you.

"Y/N!" He stops your movement with a strong grip. You wince at the scraping of your legs. "Must you always be this stubborn?" He sturdies his stance and hauls you up in his arms.

"I prefer independent,” you correct.

"Your dress is stained and you have scratch marks all over your legs.”

"Evidence of my bravery."

"Are you actually okay baby?" His concern makes your eyes gleam. He’s always taking care of you.

"Extremely so," you snuggle into his chest, wrists locking together around his neck.

Jungkook carries you all the way to the bottom of the creek. He gently guides you down on your feet once finding a comfortable area. The bubbling of the water calls both of your attention almost immediately.

“Shall we?” You enclose your hand in his and start rock hopping. Jungkook chuckles at your eagerness.

“Y/n, what’d we learn about going too fast?”

“That a strong, muscly man like you will be hot on my trail, ready to rescue me!”

“Babe come on.”

“What? Am I going to need to get a new muscly man?”

“No, never! Only me.”

You look over your shoulder and throw him a wide smile. He’s always cutest when a hint of his possessive side sneaks out. Last week he stopped by your work during lunch and witnessed a coworker of yours hovering a little too close behind you. It was an accident but Jungkook didn’t see it as such and for the whole rest of the day, a pout rested on his face.

A bit more rock hopping and you feel the urge to rest and take in the scenery. Jungkook guides you to sit between his legs once finding an ideal landing area. The position gives you a direct view of the water rippling down the current while lush greenery shades you from the harsh beams of the sun. You relax into his chest, feeling the beat of his heart—complete ecstasy overtakes you.

.

Hours pass and evening falls. Looks like you lingered at the creek longer than expected, but it’s not like you were running on a schedule anyway. This was your day and you could do whatever you wanted. Jungkook even took a short nap believe it or not.

Strolling back to the middle of town, you notice many businesses remain open but the cafe you ate at for brunch is closed. Makes sense having only served breakfast and lunch items.

“Wanna go in?” You gesture to the mall up ahead. There’s a pretty decent crowd bustling inside, stirring your curiosity.

“Sure,” Jungkook replies. “Might as well see what all the hypes about.”

Entering the glass doors, red balloons and oversized signs catch your gaze. There’s a sale today, duh. No wonder there’s a slew of people gathering in here.

You and Jungkook scan the expanse of the mall but nothing quite catches your eye like the little lingerie shop who’s sign glows pink. You glance at each other, faint smirk on both your faces.

“Try this on.” Your boyfriend hands you what is probably the skimpiest bra and panty set you’ve ever seen. The amount of cut outs and transparent sections makes you wonder if you ought to just go naked instead.

“This is like three sizes too small for me Jungkook.” You shake the item at him, seeing right through his antics. “I’m not gonna be able to breathe.”

“It was all that was left,” he lies, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Obviously it’s a very hot commodity. Just try it on once. Go on, baby.” He nods towards the dressing rooms.

“You try it on,” you shove the material at him but he pushes it back into your hand.

“Please?” Head crooked to the side, Jungkook flashes you his doe eyes. Unfair, really. How can he make himself look that cute when you know he’s thinking about railing you against the nearest wall tonight?

You grip the fabric tighter and dangle it by your side. “The things I do for you,” you grit and walk towards the dressing room. Jungkook follows close behind, making sure to give your ass a little spank along the way.

.

Once inside the changing room, you observe the contraption in its full essence. There’s no way this is going on your body smoothly. You remove your clothes and start wiggling into the set.

Yup, just as you thought. The panties barely cover your ass cheeks and the bra…don’t even get started on the bra. It’s lacy that’s for sure but also extremely see-through around the nipple area. Definitely the main selling point for Jungkook. He loves anything that shows even a sliver of your tits.

“Jungkook?” You poke your head out from the door of your changing room.

Your boyfriend looks up from his phone and leans off the wall. He strolls up to you, anticipation playing on his face. “Let me see.”

“Okay but just so you know, I can barely move in this.” The door creaks wide, revealing your form. Jungkook doesn’t even try containing the grin pulling on his lips.

“Fuck yeah, that’s coming home with us,” he cuts shortly, scanning over your body like a starved animal.

“This is squeezing me in every way possible. Can’t you choose something else?”

He steps into the stall, hands reaching out to grip your bare sides. “Nope, I choose this. You look stunning baby, sexy as fuck. Wanna shove you up against the back of this door and pound you that’s how much this turns me on.”

“Jungkook…this is a public place. Keep it in your pants until we get home.” You try shrugging his hold off but your boyfriend, evidently stronger than you, anchors his hands around your waist.

“Not sure if I can do that baby,” he says, pressing himself against your body, making you feel his growing erection. “I think it wants out.”

Scoffing, you send him an eye roll. “It always wants out.”

“And that’s a problem how?” He retaliates, grinding into you nice and firm. The motion has your legs shift apart, arousal builds in your core almost instantly. You’re beginning to truly realize how easy it takes for your boyfriend to get you going.

Embarrassingly easy.

“Jungkook,“ you lift your arms around his neck as if habitual.

“Is this you saying yes to a quickie?”

“Lock the door,” you bite your lip expectantly.

He’s desperate. Ferocious even. You try with all your might to keep in perfect sync with his lips but it’s impossible. He's determined to drown you out. You end up slipping a hand down to palm his bulge, knowing he’ll groan in response. And groan he does; long and deep. You love it. But as if triggered, your body’s forced around immediately, back tight against his muscular chest.

“Fucking look at yourself baby," he grabs a hold of your thighs and squeezes them roughly. "Absolutely addicting.”

You stare at your reflection in the mirror facing you, Jungkook's eyes are staring back. It's a bit surreal and you find yourself freezing momentarily. Was this your life? You watch as he moves his lips to the edge of your neck, eagerly applying open mouth kisses to the area. Your eyes threaten to close at the sensation but your boyfriend gives you a little nip, drawing a sharp yelp out of you.

“Keep them open,” he demands, tongue brushing over the slightly sore spot. The gesture sends waves of pleasure up your spine. It's very difficult to do as he says in this condition but you do it anyway.

Satisfied, Jungkook returns to sucking on your neck. He sneaks his arms under yours to gather your breasts in his palms at the same time. You reflexively draw a hand up and card through his hair with your fingers.

“Your tits look so hot in this,” he comments, pushing them together in a tight ball. "Shit." Thumbs glide across the tips of your buds as he continues kneading your breasts rougher and rougher until—

“Fuck!” Jungkook eyes dilate when your breasts pop out of the bra. All his endless groping managed to completely dismantle the material. Its straps are hanging off your shoulders and the clasp is ripped out of place.

“You busted it!” You spin to face him but he pays no attention to your protest. Instead, he throws the barely there bra off in one motion and starts mouthing your mounds like a beast. The delicious friction causes your back to arch and head to snap back simultaneously.

“Ahh—Jungkook this—fuck!”

“You know I love hearing you baby but unless you want someone to catch us, I suggest you stifle some of those moans,” he mutters switching between your breasts.

Reluctantly, you bite back every whine that's begging to escape out but Jungkook isn't making it easy. He tugs your nipples with his teeth, tongue darting out to circle over them for extra stimulation. You find yourself quickly loosing your balance and stumble back into the door of the changing room. Jungkook grunts and follows your movement, lips still enveloped around a tit. He gives the other a few lengthy sucks before finally pulling off. Yeah, these are going to be aching tomorrow.

“You’re a tit man through and through,” you pant, heart pounding.

“Guilty,” he shrugs before yanking your panties down to your ankles. You gladly step out of them, fully aware of what's to come. “Look how much you’re dripping baby,” he says collecting some of the arousal glistening along your folds.

“Jungkook, I-you said this was going to be a quickie.”

“Yeah, I did,” he replies and plunges two of his fingers into your wet, hot cunt. “But you know you need to come at least once before you can take me. Always gotta stretch this tight little pussy out, ain’t that right baby?”

“J-Jungkook!!” Pleasure spikes through your system as he breaks through your walls. This isn’t your first time but it sure fucking feels like it.

"Apparently my baby needs help staying quiet hm?" His free hand encloses around the base of your neck without warning, applying enough pressure to keep you from being too loud but without hurting you. The hold sends you into overdrive.

Jungkook studies your face; eyes rolled back and lids closed. He feels his length throbbing in his pants as he views your fucked out state. You hear the squelching of your heat increase with every twist of his fingers, provoking him to pump faster. A couple of hard curls later and he has your pussy spasming, triggering your first orgasm. Jungkook removes his grip around your neck as your cum rapidly spills over his fingers.

You feel some of the sticky substance run down your inner thigh when he extracts himself from your cunt but it doesn't get far. With the flat of his tongue, Jungkook cleans it up until there’s no trace of excess spillage left. He decides to do the same to your pussy but ends up getting carried away and dips his tongue between your weeping folds, ramming it in and out.

"Too much," you pull on his hair but he's unfazed. "Jungkook too much…I can't—"

And there you go, your second orgasm rips through your body in a hurricane of vibrations. Your boyfriend gives your pussy one last stripe with his tongue before popping off to grip the band of his pants.

Fully hard and leaking, you whimper at the sight of his cock out of its restraints. How it manages to fit inside your cunt makes your head spin. Your mouth waters as you prepare to drop to your knees but he stops you from lowering yourself mid-motion.

“This floor’s too damn dirty baby,” he coos. “And you’re too beautiful to get on your knees right now so I’m gonna hold you up and fuck you like you deserve.”

Your thighs are raised into his palms before you have time to counter. Jungkook secures you up along the wall of the dressing room, your arms lock around neck for extra support. The lack of distance between your bodies has the head of his length teasing your entrance. You’re about to tell him to hurry up and push in but he slams into you before you can squeak the words out.

“F-fuck,” you gasp having the breath knocked out of you.

Your eyes shift to the mirror angled in the corner behind you both. It’s position allows you a perfect view of Jungkook’s length sheltering itself in you over and over. You’ve never really watched your boyfriend fuck the daylights out of you before. Maybe you should do it more, seeing as the pressure in your core heightens in response.

“Dammit baby,” he buries his face in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “I’m not gonna last much longer when you feel like a fucking dream around me.”

“Well same here,” your chest rises heavily against his. “I think I’m going to fall apart the way your cock’s drilling into me.”

Unable to restrain himself further, his thick, hard length beats itself in your inviting walls at a pace so overwhelming it has you shaking and clenching in seconds. Jungkook brings his lips feverishly over yours. Tongues roll in each others mouths to keep either of you from screaming and alerting outsiders.

Your kisses get sloppy with every thrust of his hips and you end up exploding around him first, bathing him in your cum. He shoots his load in you closely after. The mixture of warmth draws a long moan from both of you as you relax into each other’s bodies.

Once you recover your breath, Jungkook sets your feet back on the ground. You find yourself wobbling ever so slightly, earning you a cocky smirk from your boyfriend.

“You okay?” he asks, knowing you’re not.

You steady yourself on the surface of the door with a hand. “Every time we fuck you manage to make me come faster,” you start slowly. “I might not be able to keep up much longer.”

“Baby,” he picks up his pants from the bench. “You can’t even keep up now.”

Fire reignited, you meet the whites of his eyes. “Hurry up and get your clothes on because when we get home I want you to on your back, calling me a slut while I ride your cock until you’re begging me to slow down.”

“Shit, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that you little whore.”

Well, looks like this date's become like the rest; starts sweet and ends steamy. Are you surprised though? Not when it's Jungkook you're dating.

A/N: Hey guys thanks for all your reads on this fic, means a lot that you'd stop by 😊 Please let me know your thoughts if you enjoyed this; a little encouragement goes a long way for writers like me 💜😘

@bloodline1632 @jasminperez18

Masterlist

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts au #fic:canthelpitiloveyou #kookslastbutton

[writer-komaru]

.♱ 𓆩𖤍𓆪 ♱. Moonlight Kisses ｡✧ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ﾟ｡⋆ 𖤐

✧Rating: Fluff + Smut

✧Characters: Edgar Allen Poe

✧Word Count: 3.9k

✧Summary: Headcanons about Poe and Karl because they’re precious.

Platonic + Romantic + Sexual + Karl

.𖤣 .𖥧 𖡼. ⚘.° :Platonic

✿ Poe’s main interest in life is to write. More specifically, write a mystery novel even the great detective Ranpo can’t crack to get his sweet, long-awaited revenge.

✿ He spends hours, long, grueling hours, slumped over his desk with adorable raccoon freind curled up on his lap, writing none stop. His feathered pen flutters through the air as its ink soaked tip etches Poe’s ideas into words. It’s almost beautiful.

✿ His sleep deprived eyes struggling to stay open, hyper focused on the air taking shape in front of him

✿ Just like a sculptor, he chisels away at the manila paper with the hopes of soon creating a magnificent statue to stand the test of time.

✿ That uplifting dream helps keep his head high and his pen working overtime

✿ But even a talented writer like him often has his off days. Days where he feels his river of rushing inspiration run dry; days where the negation of his health finally finds the opportunity to pounce.

✿ Usually when he finds himself stuck at the bottom of an ocean of despair, he hesitatingly leaves his room and takes a stroll around his mansion.

✿(btw I headcanon, I’m pretty sure it’s cannon but idk, he lives in a secluded mansion on the outside of town with a view of the ocean by his window and a lush garden of roses in his front yard. He usually doesn’t take very good care of it cuz he spends most of his time writing but sometimes he likes to stop by and admire the new buds)

✿(I also headcannon he has tons of shelves and climbing equipment set up up the wall and on the ceiling of his study so if Karl gets bored he can scamper up there and have some play time)

✿He takes note of anything that catches his eye; whether that be intricate designs of the wooden trim on the walls, the feeling of smooth tiles under his shoes, the sounds of leaves rustling against the windows, the faint scent of mahogany and spruce hanging in the air from the numerous candles he likes to light.

✿ Although these senses may sound boring, all it takes is a small spark of intrigue to set of an explosion of fireworks in his mind that leave him rushing back to his chamber to jot it all down, Karl scampering after him excitedly.

✿ But on days he doesn’t even have the will to get out of bed, it leaves Karl with the duty of getting him back on his feet.

✿ He’ll give him tons of fluffy cuddles and licks on the cheek, deliver him snacks leftover from Ranpo’s last visit, and eventually yank him out of bed by the sleeve of his pajama shirt when it’s time to get some sun.

✿ He’s perfectly content with this lifestyle and finds comfort in his solitude. Big crowds of loud, unfamiliar people make him uncomfortable and afraid. All he really needs is his writing, Karl, and Ranpo.

✿ There’s just one thing. The more he ventures outside of his sanctum, the more he begins to long for something.

✿ It’s a solemn feeling; Like the sad cry of a lost wolf pup, endlessly marching through a thick and dark forest, calling out for any signs of its pack. He can practically feel the cold biting at his torn paw pads and the thicket’s thorns scratching at his back.

✿ No matter how many sweet nuzzles Karl gives him, the feeling still persists.

✿ That was until he finally ran into you. In that moment where his eyes gazed into yours, his breathing stopped. The heavy, painful feeling of loneliness suddenly falters, like the metal cuffs weighing from his wrists and ankles unlock.

✿ Even though he has the conversation skills of both a theater kid and a wet rag, he does his best to keep up.

✿ His long, dark locks covering his eyes don’t do much to shield the slight red glow of embarrassment from his cheeks

✿ When he gets nervous, he likes to glide his fingers loosely through Karl’s dense fur. He makes sure to give him a nice brushing when it gets too tangled so it’s usually in pretty good condition. The quiet action helps steady his nerves, and Karl’s almost too willing to get some extra attention.

✿ After meeting you, he begins to leave the house more often.

✿ He loves to rant to you about the next chapter of his novel and how the newest twist will finally prove itself too difficult for Ranpo to deduce. He’ll go into detail, explaining each and every complexity, red herring, and hidden meaning of his writing which will probably go straight over your head. Following everything up with a villainous cackle.

✿ After noticing your lost expression, he apologies enthusiastically and laughs it off.

✿ When Ranpo learns of the new friend Poe made, he will invite both of you out with him to a local arcade. Even though he acts all cheerful and aloof as he urges you to play games with him, he secretly hides the fact he’s just using this as an excuse to scope you out.

✿ He can’t have some unworthy person try to come along and steal his close friend away from him, no matter how childish that sounds. He also just wants the best for Poe.

✿ If you pass his vibe check, you’re now added to the list of people Ranpo actually enjoys spending time with (good for you)

✿ Now that you’re officially a certified friend of Poe, you’ll have to take on some of the responsibilities Karl once did when Poe gets stuck in a stupor of blank pages.

✿ Make sure to get him some groceries (using his card ofc with his consent) and kind words.

✿ Sometimes all it takes to displace the dark, thunderous worries in his mind is a pat on the shoulder and a few words along the lines of “I’m proud of you.”

✿ He’ll look back at you with such a sickeningly sweet smile as tears gush from his shining, dark eyes.

✿ Expect a neatly folded envelope with a ruby red seal and a few jet black raven feathers decorated under it on your doorstep. In it contains a handwritten thank you letter from Poe. (He’s so extra I love him)

✿ But can you blame him? He’s just so glad to have another friend he can count on! <3

° .; ʚ❤︎ɞ ‘｡˚ :Romantic

➷ Having Poe as a boyfriend has to be one of the most exquisitely beautiful yet taxing experiences in the world of dating

➷ He’s a major hopeless romantic and would always find him mind drifting off to thoughts of you while trying to work on his novel.

➷ When he eventually realizes he got off draft he’s already covered the whole page in praises, poems, and hearts. He grumbles to himself for making such an embarrassing mistake and tears out the page.

➷ Right when he was about to crumble it, he stops himself and instead tucks it neatly into his desk, never to see the light of day again.

➷ He turns to a new page and takes a deep breath to calm his mind. Yet, his pen remains stationary. His eyebrows knit together as he tries desperately to push away the surplus thoughts of you and his love for you out of his mind.

➷ “Why can’t I just focus on what’s in front of me…?” He groans in defeat as he flops against his desk. Karl brushes his fluffy tail over his back, nudging his ear with his nose.

➷ “I’m fine, Karl. Just a bit distracted, it seems,” he mumbles, covering his growing blush with his arms.

➷ Is he really reduced to a complete flustered mess, just by the mere thoughts of you? He whimpers at the idea.

➷ Just give him some time to wallow in self pity and he’ll finally pull himself together.

➷ He decides to vent out his feelings into stacks upon stacks of love letters, poems, and sketches, all embodying his undying love for the beauty known as you.

➷ Now that his mind is free of clutter, he can begin work on his novel once more. But, out of the corner of his eye, he doesn’t quite catch the faint blur of gray fur that swipes one of the poems and speeds off to an unknown location.

➷ After around two hours, Poe wipes his brow and stands up from his desk, finally ready to take a needed break for some food and rest. When he reaches to his shoulder to pet Karl, the spot he usually rests while cuddling around Poe’s neck, he finds it worryingly empty.

➷ The adrenaline spike of a mother’s primal instincts shoots directly into his veins like a drug as he jumps up from his chair and scrambles all over the house in search of his beloved friend.

➷ Sooner or later he finds Karl curled up by the fireplace with nearly folded piece of paper in his mouth. Poe gently takes it from him and gasps as he reads it. It… it was a poem… with your name on it? Did Karl steal one of his love poems?!

➷ Without fully reading over the poem, he hurries back to his study and shoves it into his desk, along with the rest of the incriminating material of his love.

➷ “Not a soul shall hear of this, especially not t-them…” He murmurs to himself before preparing a cup of tea to calm down his racing heart.

➷ After a large quantity of time goes by and he warms up to being more open with his love, he’ll make it his duty to write one poem for you each day and have Karl deliver it to you. He could be swamped in work, suffering from a fever, or caught up in a fiasco with the guild and he would still find the time to jot down a few words for your eyes and heart only.

➷ Plus, he makes sure to give each letter a stamp of approval from Karl by dipping his paw pad in some animal safe ink.

➷ No matter how much time he spends with you it’s just not enough for his poor enthralled heart.

➷ Often, he’d find himself lying awake a night, thoughts and dreams of you echoing and spinning through his mind like a carousel.

➷ Just a light touch on the hand can turn his poor cheeks bright red. The picture of his blushing, flustered face barely concealed by his unkempt dark hair is enough to make anyone want to tease the life out of this man

➷ On days he’s not as busy and a little more confident than usual, he’ll take you out somewhere nice. And when I say nice, I mean NICEEE.

➷ We all know this guy is loaded and he’s 100% willing to spend every dime of it on you.

➷ Thousands of servings of food, luxury clothing brands, sparkling jewelry, spa trips every day, fuck it, even a private jet if you really wanted. Just remember to not be too demanding because he can get pretty reckless with money.

➷ One time you told him how much you loved bunnies and the next time you went into your living room it was completely full of bunny merch of all kinds. Plushies, blankets, clothes, I could go on for days.

➷ All and all, his love language is most definitely giving gifts or words of affirmations.

.༺ཐི♡ཋྀ༻. :Sexual

ღ This guy is such a bottom in the kindest way I can put it. Everything about you sends currents of love streaming through his body, setting it ablaze. He’s completely at the mercy of this feeling, at the mercy of you.

ღ The only time he won’t be a bottom is when he’s going through a spout of confidence from either one upping Ranpo somehow or syncing himself up. But even then you won’t get anything more than a service dom.

ღ Let’s start of with his bottom side.

ღ He’s always pining for you, daydreaming about how lovely you are to him and how angelic you look. But his thoughts don’t always stay pure and fluffy.

ღ On days he’s especially pent up from working long days and nights on his writing, he can often find himself sucked into the honey trap of more… explicit fantasies of you.

ღ Sometimes it’s him tied up with you looming over him, sometimes you’re stroking him under the table during a guild meeting, sometimes you’re giving him head under his desk when he’s supposed to be finishing his novel, and sometimes you’re littering his pink tilted skin in hickies and lipstick stains.

ღ He whines in annoyance at the prominent bulge in his pants he now has to take care of.

ღ But maybe, if you’d be fine with it, you could make some of his fantasies come true…?

ღ He let’s put a yelp as he feels your hands slide up his thighs and your smirking face appear between them.

ღ his workaholic brain tries to resist the temptation in front of him in favor of working just a little bit more but… as soon as his fly is down and your intoxicatingly warm tongue laps against his head, he’s once again completely at your mercy.

ღ Even though he may have needy fantasies about you, I don’t see him having a very high libedo. You can expect to have sex maybe every week or so, adjusting around your needs instead of his.

ღ This brings me to discuss his service Dom side.

ღ When he’s in his confident mindset, you can find your back pressed against his mattress and his hands interlocked with his own as his lips trace against your jaw.

ღ You didn’t hear it from me, but his dirty talk is leagues ahead of most people in BSD.

ღ “What an alluring temptress I have below me, if I wasn’t the gentleman I am I would have taken you against every surface of my mansion until we’re both breathless and shaking~”

ღ “I can’t wait to bathe every inch and curve of your body in so much love and pleasure to the point your crying my name so loud even the angels in heaven will get jealous~”

ღ “Just like that, my beautiful goddess, I- Hahh I’m devoted to you and you only. I’ll pray and worship you every… se-second, hour, day of my life, I promise- Promise promise promise I’ll serve you! I’ll please you, I’ll make you feel an unending amount of ecstasy I swear to you!”

ღ “My angel, my love, my life, my everything, let your burning love out!! Nghhh~ Let it burst from your cunt, drip onto the mattress. I’ll clean it up later, I swear! J-just relax and cum for me, I-I Aghh!!! I just can’t hold on much longer! Please cum please cum please- Aghh!!~ I-I gonna cummmmm!!~”

ღ I totally see him as a virgin until he meets you. Either you’ll have to teach him or you’ll try to educate himself.

ღ How will he do that? Well, let’s just say there’s a certain shelf of his room no one, not even Karl, is allowed near. After exploring the world of more… erotic writing, that’s when he started to have fantasies about you.

ღ If you have a corruption kink, you better get to him before his private writing collection does~

ღ It’s pretty easy to make him lose his mind if I’m being honest.

ღ it can be done by giving him a sudden, deep kiss on the lips, a hug from behind where your hands wander further than his stomach, maybe even having him catch you in nothing but a bra and panties.

ღ Now that’s a great way to stay in his mind for hours~

ღ One of his guilty pleasures is marks. Hickies are his favorite because the pain that comes with scratches and bruises takes him out of his romantic mood. On days where he’s out and about with his dearest friend Ranpo and he catches the faint glimpse of a reddish bruise under the pearly white collar of his button up. Dread seeps into every corner of his body like a rock sinking to the bottom of a pond as a sinister smirk stretches across Ranpo’s face.

ღ “My my my, did someone have some fun last night?~ I never took you for the-“ Ranpo’s smirk widens as a hand quickly covers his mouth.

ღ “D-Don’t… allow me to keep at least some of my dignity…” Poe stammers out, using his other hand to cover his incriminating blush.

ღ But he could be caught in the act a million times before he ever even for a second regretted the nights of sinful passion you two spend together. Reaching a new level of nirvana with you proudly riding the life out of him makes him the happiest, most lucky man in all of the world. Even if you tease him, deny him, even degrade him, he’ll still love you more than anything.

ღ “Look at how desperate you are, cumming back to back like this is the best pussy you’ve ever gotten. Is it good? Do I make you feel good, my love?~” You coo to him, stroking his heated cheek.

ღ The lovesick expression on his face, drool dripping down his chin, a cherry red blush, his clumped locks sticking to the sweat of his forehead, it all says more than even a million, trillion love poems could ever hope of communicating.

ʕ(◕ᴥ◕)ʔ Karl

꩜ He absolutely ADORES both you and Poe

꩜ I'd like to think the story of how Poe met Karl is a long and detailed one, but I’ll try to keep it short

꩜ One day after being rejected by the 27th publisher, Poe began his sad walk home.

꩜ He knows he shouldn’t give up home and that soon enough someone would be interested in his stories, but the crushing despair of not being good enough ate away at him.

꩜ he keeps his head low and to the ground, to ashamed of himself to meet anyone’s eye. That was until he noticed the hard concrete sidewalk had now turned into a loamy, grassy mix.

꩜ When he looked back up, he found himself lost in a dark forest of looming trees, pointed thickets, and changing owls.

꩜ All around him was a never ending void, disturbed by only the chirping of small animals and the rustling of bushes.

꩜ He was completely lost.

꩜ After checking his phone to of course find it has no signal and the path he had just taken was now covered in thick bushes his blood went cold.

꩜ Was this his destiny? To get rejected from every publisher in his city and die alone and hungry in the forest at night?

꩜ He sank to the ground and hugged his knees to his chest.

꩜ Tears he has been fighting back for hours finally spilled down his cheeks, swamping the first floor in dirty, murky mud.

꩜ That was until he felt a strange tickling sensation against his back. His head whipped around to find an unexpected acquaintance.

꩜ It was a small, furry raccoon with large, black eyes. It cocked its head like Poe was a weirdly rock and chittered softly.

꩜ Poe backed away slightly. He knows the animals of the forest were never ones to be messed with, including a baby raccoon. Whenever there’s a baby, an angry mom is always nearby and ready to pounce.

꩜ But instead, the raccoon squeaked again and turned his back to him, shaking his tail side to side. Was it… trying to tell him something?

꩜ Suddenly, it began to march away, it’s tail swinging behind him. Did it want Poe to follow it?

꩜ Without any over ideas, the two began to make their way through the forest, weaving between thorny brambles and suspicious ivy. After only a few minutes the glowing lights of the city finally illuminated from the clearing of the forest.

꩜ “Little raccoon, you saved my life. How can I ever repay you?” Poe knealt down on the ground and gave the kind creature a sincere bow.

꩜ The raccoon chittered back at him and stood on its hind legs, reaching up to Poe. The writer’s poor heart is pierced with an arrow of affection for his new furry friend, scooping him up into his arms and carrying him back to civilization.

꩜ Karl was born into a little of cute, healthy raccoons, owned by an unknown russian author.

꩜ But one day after playing with his siblings, he suddenly found himself picked up by the author and sold off to a family looking for an unusual house pet.

꩜ After a series of events, Karl escaped and scurried off into the forest.

꩜ He may finally have freedom, but since he’s still so young, he doesn’t know how to find food or protect himself.

꩜ Just as he was about to curl up in a pile of leaves and sleep, he heard unusual sounds coming from deep in the forest.

꩜ That’s when he found Poe.

꩜ Back in present time, he spends all his time either resting on Poe’s shoulders, curled up by the fireplace, or nestled on your lap.

꩜ His favorite treats are nuts like cashews, acorns, and peanuts. He also likes blueberries, sunflower seeds, and grapes.

꩜ (don’t give him cotton candy he will cry and Poe will scold you)

꩜ Poe won’t let you feed Karl too many snacks in fear he might get even more chunky, but if Karl gives him some big, sad eyes and whimpers, Poe will eventually cave.

꩜ He loves to chase laser pointers and you may or may not have used that to lead him on a wild chase all over Poe’s study. (It was of course Ranpo’s idea)

꩜ You too giggle to yourself like little gremlins as Poe races around the room chasing Karl like a madman.

꩜ Poe makes him wear little boots when it rains and he hates them so much, always tries to pull em off so he can splash around in the mud.

꩜ Surprisingly love baths and will purr the entire time like the attention loving stinker he is.

꩜ Has been caught digging in Poe’s and your trash on occasion. When caught he stands on his hind legs and freezes, slowly backing away with an apple core in his mouth.

꩜ Cuz Poe’s so wealthy he often buys him tons of dog and cat toys, testing each out to find what he likes most.

꩜ Karl loves feathery cat toys to swat at, squeaker dog toys to chew on, and remote control mouses to chase. But his favorite toy has to be Poe’s long jacket and anything shiny or jingling on your outfit.

꩜ Always vies for pets and cuddles, hence why he’s always snoozing away on Poe’s shoulders or lap. He’s like a little baby you both raise together and he couldn’t have better parents <3

Reblog + Comment + Like if you want to see more Bungo Stray Dogs or Poe specific content!

(After taking a few days to recover from writers block I’ve FINALLY been able to finish this. Phewww!~ The schedule I’ve been experimenting with is still being worked on but I might be able to post it soon along with another question. Cya all then!~ <3)

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs poe #edgar allan poe #edgar allen poe bsd #poe x reader #edgar allen poe x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs fluff #poe smut #Poe fluff #gn reader #Karl #karl bsd #bungou stray dogs

[starlazergazer]

Are You Okay?

Pairing: Anakin x reader

Summary: An injury you kept secret spirals out of control as the time until you can see a doctor lengthens uncontrollably forcing you to come clean about its existence to Anakin.

Warnings: Nah not really

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Wrote this one a little while ago and wasn’t completely happy with it so I decided to spruce it up tonight and release it to the masses. Hope you enjoy!

You had to get to Ahsoka

That was your only thought in the moment.

You could see Anakin up ahead, light saber wiping quickly through the air as he deflected as many blaster shots as possible.

But it hadn’t been enough. Ahsoka had been hit and Anakin couldn’t go to her to help because you still needed his protection, you were still behind him on the ground.

On the ground?

You weren’t sure how you got to be here, last you remember you were just behind your friend deflecting the droids shots just as he is now. So how had you ended up five feet back in the dirt?

But ultimately that didn’t matter, Ahsoka needed you. So you scrambled up to your feet, using your arms to pull you up and forward towards the padawans body, because ultimately it didn’t matter what had happened, what mattered was what you could do now, what you needed to do now.

You all but collapsed beside Ahsoka’s form, hands immediately going to the side of her face trying desperately to wake her up, not daring to look at her wound.

The young padawan’s eyes barely cracked open, her features immediately drawing together in a wince as the weight of her injuries now doubt hit her. Nonetheless her hand slowly made it’s way up to yours, fingers wrapping softly around your wrist as she all but whispered “I’m okay”

You let a chuckle escape, nodding encouragingly “I’ll believe it when you’re on your feet”

With no further communication you put her arm around your neck, Ahsoka steadily putting more of her weight on your shoulders as you helped her come into a standing position.

“Anakin we have to move” You yelled up the battlefield towards the general, him giving you the briefest nod in response before slowly making his way across to the two of you still blocking as many shots as he could.

You must have been more tired than you thought, not fully expecting carrying Ahsoka back to the ship to take this much effort, as your left leg seemed to lag behind you, not responding as quickly as you were used to.

Nevertheless you pushed through, making your way towards the ship, albeit slower than anticipated.

As soon as you were safe behind cover Anakin was on Ahsoka’s other side taking some of her weight off of you sending you a quick look that asked if you were okay.

“I’m good” You panted out happily handing off Ahsoka to her master “you go”

Anakin didn’t need to be told twice, his hands going beneath her knees immediately allowing him to pick her up swiftly and whisk her off to the medical droid.

You barely made it to the nearest seat before collapsing. Your heartbeat pounding in your head as physical exhaustion hit you like it had never done before.

You leaned over and put your head in your hands, elbows going to your knees as you tried your best to slow your breathing, deep breaths in and out slowly driving your heart rate down.

That’s when the pain first hit.

It didn’t start as much, little more than a prick in your side though it quickly grew, radiating out from your left side like fire until you were clenching your jaw to keep from crying out, clawing desperately at your cloak to move it out of the way.

Raw flesh revealed itself beneath the large cloak, burned flesh and blood seeping into the cloth of your robes around it.

It needed to be cleaned and patched but luckily it looked like nothing worse than a graze in your side, it could wait until you got back to Coruscant. Right now Ahsoka got priority when it came to the medical droids time.

As if on que you felt Anakin’s pretense as he started coming your way from the hallway. With a deep breath you straightened your posture and wrapped your cloak tightly around yourself, trying your best to act as if everything was fine.

The Jedi sat right beside you, his knee softly bumping yours before hesitantly resting alongside it just barely touching. A small gesture you usually pathetically relished though right now all you could focus on was the pain in your side.

“Is Ahsoka going to be okay?” You asked, almost proud at how normal your voice sounded.

“Yeah” Anakin breathed out, running a nervous hand through his hair “droid says she’s just got to sleep it off”

“Good” You nodded in response, leaning back further against the chair, hand balling your cloak in its fist as you fought down the pain, desperately trying to focus on any other body part.

“I wanted to-uh-“ Anakin stuttered, hesitantly sitting up straighter and making eye contact with you “I wanted to thank you for what you did for Ahsoka”

You shook your head dismissively, not thinking anything of it “of course I’d get her out, she’d do the same for me”

“Still” Anakin persisted, softly placing a hand on your knee, drawing your gaze back to his “Thank you Y/N”

You paused, eyes dancing briefly back and forth between his before responding, he seemed so genuine in this moment, a seriousness in his voice you hardly ever heard from him. You’d saved his own life countless times at this point and yet he never seemed as grateful as he did now “You’re welcome Ani”

The tips of mouth quirked up at the nickname, taking one moment to relish staring into your eyes before his small smile dropped from his face, his eyebrows scrunching together in concentration. “Y/N are you okay?”

Immediately you were tearing your gaze from his, pulling your body away as you tightened the grip on your cloak, mentally scolding yourself for letting the wall built between you and Anakin in this moment fall “Yeah I’m fine”

Anakin, however, didn’t seem convinced. He opened his mouth to no doubt press further before Rex’s familiar voice echoed on his com “General you’re going to want to see this”

Anakin let out a heavy sigh at the sound, his eyes all but begging you to tell him. Instead, you just shook your head “I’m good” You forced out a small chuckle, ignoring the pain it caused to flare up in your ribs “Go ahead general”

He seemed to ease slightly at your laugh, nodding softly before getting up and heading towards the bridge. Thus leaving you the perfect opportunity to all but collapse in your seat. The pain finally fully catching up to you.

Quietly you swore under your breath as you doubled over, doing everything to just focus on your breathing. You just had to make it back to Coruscant.

As if the universe had a sense of humor, at that precise moment the entire ship suddenly shook violently. You were falling forward onto your face faster than you could get your arms to respond, your chin making painful contact with the metal floor.

You pushed yourself up slightly to roll onto your back, doing your best to minimize any more injury to your side.

The sound of footsteps approached you quickly though you couldn’t bring yourself to care at this point. Wanting nothing more than a nap at that moment.

“Y/N come on we have to go” Came Anakin’s panicked whisper.

You just groaned in response, shutting your eyes but doing nothing else to move.

“Y/N” Anakin hissed, tugging you hand to try and pull you to your feet.

You did everything to try and fight the grimace from your face as Anakin pulled you up but know you did a poor job of hiding it as he ushered you quickly down a hallway.

You followed him blindly, barely paying attention to anything as he yanked you into a small closet and shut the door quickly behind you.

The closet was almost uncomfortably small, just enough room to allow you to not be standing on top of Anakin but you couldn’t focus on that now. Couldn’t focus on anything but your pain, anything other than the fact that the wound was quickly getting bigger than something you could control yourself.

“Okay what is going on with you?” Anakin hissed quietly.

“Nothing” the answer was out of your mouth before you could even think of doing something other than lie.

Anakin, however, wasn’t having it. Crossing his arms he gave you a stern, disapproving look as he stared down at you “No not nothing quit lying to me clearly something is wrong”

“Anakin I’m fine-“

You barely got the words out before he was firing back “Quit saying you’re fine when you’re clearly not. The ship is clearly in trouble and I can’t” he paused for a second, “I can’t focus on that unless I know that you’re okay. Really okay”

You glared back up at him, the expression of raw emotion taking you off guard for a second, but just a second. You tried to push everything down, all the pain and guilt rising within you, and push past Anakin out the door. Beneath your touch, however, the door refused to move.

“We’re locked in” Anakin responded in an almost smug tone “so you might as well tell me”

You stared up at him quietly resigning yourself to your fate. Because ultimately, he was right, you were stuck, you couldn’t hide it any longer. But more than anything else you were scared. You hated that you were scared, that a shot that wasn’t even a direct hit could affect you so, that in this moment what you craved more than anything else was comfort from a friend, or maybe from Anakin in specific, someone to tell you that you were going to be okay because with each passing moment you were starting to believe it less and less.

So before you could talk yourself out of it you lifted your robe out of the way, exposing the raw flesh to the air eliciting a soft hiss from yourself.

Anakin’s whole body froze at the sight of it. You could practically feel yourself shrinking from underneath his piercing gaze.

“What is that?” his voice came out in a slow growl only making you shrink farther.

“Ani it’s nothing” You tried to pull the cloak back around you but his hand shot out to stop you, tentative fingers reaching out to softly touch the exposed skin around the wound earning hisses in pain from you.

His eyes broke from your wound for this first time, his gaze snapping to yours a mix of hurt and anger playing in his eyes “It’s not nothing Y/N!”

“Shhh” You quickly tried to shush him as his voice rose louder than he anticipated, your hands rising to cover his mouth instinctively though he swatted them away without a second thought.

“It’s not nothing” He repeated in a whisper yell, an anxious hand running through his hair as he started to pace in the incredibly small space. “How could you say this is nothing? You were shot”

“It’s just a graze” You quickly defended yourself though soon shut down as you saw the glare he sent your way.

“It doesn’t matter” He sighed, pausing his pace “we need to get you to medical”

“I don’t need to go to medical we need to get control of the ship again” You countered though Anakin just shook his head “we have no chance of getting there unless we get control of the ship again”

Anakin didn’t respond to that, simply leaned against the wall and closed his eyes in thought. At least it seemed for now he’d dropped the subject, turned to focus on the more pressing issue at hand, the ship no longer under his control.

“I asked you twice if you were okay”

Apparently not.

“You had to help Ahsoka” You shrugged.

“This isn’t about Ahsoka” Anakin sighed back. “I asked if you were okay and you thought what? That you’d just deal with it yourself?”

“I mean” You sighed back, sliding down the wall into a sitting position “Yes? I really didn’t think It was this bad”

“I just-“ Anakin stuttered back, matching your position as he slid down the wall next to you, clearly trying his best to push down his anger in the moment, clearly recognizing that what you needed right now was not just medical attention. After considering it for a moment he softly pulled your head to rest on his shoulder “I need you to know that that doesn’t matter”

You straightened back up to make eye contact with him, giving him a puzzled look.

“When I ask if you’re okay” He continued slowly “I really want to know. I don’t care if you think it’s a small thing, or I’m busy, or you think you can handle it on your own. I need to know if you’re really okay”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, a familiar lump growing at the base of your throat as you put your head back on his shoulder, your voice coming out shakier than you would like “yeah okay”

“So are you?” He asked pointedly “are you okay?”

And despite your best efforts a tear slipped down your cheek. Because you felt guilty for lying, because you could still feel your wound bleeding, because you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “No. No I’m not”

Anakin pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head “Don’t worry” he assured you “I’ve got you”

“It wasn’t supposed to get this bad” you cried softly into his shoulder, trying your best to shush your words into his robes “I didn’t even know I’d been hit at first then all of a sudden we were hiding in a closet as our ship was stolen out from under neath us”

“I know” Anakin whispered softly into your hair, a comforting hand brushing up and down your back as your tears started to subside “just promise me you’ll say something next time. I want to be there for you, I want to really make sure you’re okay.” He paushed briefly in thought “no matter how busy I am your well being is never a burden on me okay?”

“Okay” you repeated softly with a hiccup.

“I need to hear you say it sweetheart”

And you couldn’t fight the heat from rising to your cheeks at the nickname, just as Anakin knew it would “my well being is never a burden to you”

“Good” you could hear the smug smile in his voice prompting an eye roll from you “now we just need to get out of here and get you to med bay”

You shook your head, sitting up straighter with a wince “Ahsoka’s there I can wait till Coruscant”

Anakin was quick to cut you off “You’re still bleeding Y/N you need to see the medical droid, Ahsoka’s just got to sleep it off at this point”

You opened your mouth to object again but closed it with one glare from Anakin, knowing you weren’t winning this one. “Okay how do we get control of the ship again”

“We’re going to have to make our way to the bridge and hope R2 has fixed the hyperdrive” Anakin spoke softly and seriously, nervous eyes going to your injured side “be honest, can you fight?”

With a dejected sigh you shook your head “I don’t think I can even stand at this point, I’ll stay-“

Anakin cut you off again quickly “I’m not leaving you behind don’t be ridiculous” he ran an anxious hand through his hair “I’ll help you to the bridge and if we find a blaster on the way you’ll use it in whatever hand you can”

“I’ll be dead weight you can just-“

“I’m not leaving you” his voice was hard as he stared at you with determined eyes “end of discussion”

“fine” you replied with a huff, a small part of you slightly relieved at that admittedly “how do we get out of this closet?”

At this he sent you a sly smirk, raising his communicator to his mouth and whispering “R2 buddy you there?”

Happy beeping sounded back through the speakers and you couldn’t help but return the grin Anakin sent your way.

You were going to be fine.

#Anakin Skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fic #skywalker imagine #skywalker x reader #skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #star wars fanfiction #star wars x y/n #star wars x you #star wars imagine #star wars x reader

[gaybananabread]

Hi I love your fics! I was wondering if you could write a lee bakugo and ler best jeanist? If your requests are closed you can just ignore this, I thought it could be cute though!

Have a great day! Remember to take care of yourself!

TickleTober Day 2 - Accidental

Okay, kinda lucked out! I was gonna wait till November to do this request, but I liked the pairing and needed an idea. You didn't request it as TickleTober, but that's what it is now. Changes nothing, just gives me an excuse to write it as such lol. Ignore any sewing-term errors, I don't sew anything. Anywho, I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Bakugou

Ler: Best Jeanist

Summary: Jeanist thought that Bakugou's suit needed some special touches. The blonde obviously protests, leading to some rather giggly measurements.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Bakugou's hero suit was…well, it wasn't bad. It just lacked a certain flair the pro hero was looking for. So, with him mentoring the teen and all, Jeanist thought it his responsibility to spruce up the slightly drab suit.

The rapidly approaching fall season was a decent inspiration for him. With fall comes the changing of leaves, carving of pumpkins and cooler weather. Jeanist made sure to insulate the suit, knowing the blonde needed to sweat for his quirk to work. He kept the theme mainly orange, yellow and black, adding in a few splashes of green for style. 

By the end of his lunch break, he had drawn up a new seasonal suit for Bakugou. It was time for the hard part: getting his measurements without the boy exploding.

“I don’t need a new suit! Nothin’s fucking wrong with it!” Bakugou was not putting up with another change. His poor hair had been the first change. That damn comb over…he’ll never get over it. Now he wanted to switch up his suit design? Fuck that.

The pro hero sighed, expecting this reaction. “No need to be so dramatic. It’s just a little…seasonal makeover. Trust me, you’ll be much happier.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his head. Yeah right, he had said the same thing about the hairstyle…

Bakugou's choice of words wasn't his best idea. He was getting a bit pissy, letting his temper get the best of him. "Fuck off. My suit is fine, no more makeovers!" He glared at the pro, but that temper faded when he saw the look on his face. The look that meant Jeanist was done with his shit.

"Quite the mouth on you. I believe I said something about censoring your f-bombs, did I not?" Threads flew towards the teen, wrapping around his limbs and getting him positioned. When Jeanist was done, Bakugou was standing tall, his arms and legs spread just enough to get perfect measurements. "I would say 'stand still', but I don't think that'll be an issue now."

A bit dramatic, but he needed it. Bakugou thrashed and tugged on the thread, but everytime one broke, three more were quick to replace it. Jeanist was careful not to hurt the boy, just restrain him. "The fuck?! Get these damn threads offa me!" 

The pro rolled his eyes, grabbing his measuring tape and approaching him. "What did I just say?" Jeanist first ran the tape around his chest, getting the bust measurements. He wasn't expecting the other blonde's gasp when his fingers grazed his ribs. "Bakugou…are you hurt?"

Shit… "No, go away! Get these damn threads away from me!" He tried thrashing his way out, but nothing was working. Jeanist was too good at keeping him in place.

"Bakugou, if you're hiding an injury, you're only hurting yourself more. I only think less of you for getting injured if you don't tell me about it." His tone was serious. The pro didn't mess around when it came to his others' well-being. Giving Bakugou a stern look-over, he could tell the explosive teen wasn't lying. But if he wasn't injured, why'd he gasp? Jeanist knew he wasn't getting a straight answer; best to run a test…

Ignoring his protests, Jeanist got back to measuring. He did the bust measurements one more time, his fingers grazing Bakugou's ribs again. The teen was prepared, though, biting his cheek to keep quiet.

Okay, no noise that time…moving onto the waist. He moved the tape down, fiddling with the ends of it to find the exact measurement. He pressed his fingers against the boy's lower stomach, taking mental notes of the numbers. 

Bakugou's breathing was a bit shaky, his cheek starting to hurt from biting it so hard. Why couldn't Jeanist measure somewhere that wasn't ticklish? Literally any other place would have been fine. He just had to start with his ribs. Things only went downhill from there…

Now for hip girth. The tape was moved once again, running around his hips. Bakugou struggled not to react when he felt his mentor's fingers brush his hips. He could feel his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment and stupidity of his situation getting to him. 

Jeanist heard how shaky his breathing was getting, glancing up at the teen's face. What he saw shocked him. A blushing Bakugou, struggling not to smile. Why would he…wait a minute. He got a wonderful idea. And oho, it was perfect. 

The measuring tape was pulled away, Best Jeanist's fingers leaving his torso. Bakugou huffed, sparing a glance at his mentor. He instantly regretted it. The pro hero's smile was as wide as it was mischievous. The measurements were done for now, he could've released him; but he didn't. He knew. Bakugou was fucked. 

"Jeanist I- don't you FUCKING dare! I'll blow you into the stratosphere! Back off!" The blond pulled at his thread restraints, but Jeanist was too good with his quirk. He could barely wiggle around, much less escape.

The pro hero chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow, again with the language. What's it gonna take for you to clean up your act, Bakugou?" He tucked his arms behind his back, slowly getting closer to the teen. He knew exactly what it would take. He just wanted to have a bit of fun with his temperamental mentee. 

"Maybe…something like this?" He went behind the teen, squeezing his side. Bakugou huffed, jerking as much as the threads would allow. How were things as simple as threads keeping him restrained so well? 

"Lemme go! I swear, if you touch me one more time, I'll fucking blast you-" He couldn't even finish his sentence before Jeanist squeezed his side again, cutting his words off with a yelp. "There's that word again. You've really got to stop using it. Children aren't going to want to be near a hero who uses such scary language." 

To be completely honest, Jeanist didn't really care how the boy spoke. It wasn't up to him, he wasn't going to dictate how he communicated. Still, the cursing gave him an excuse to tickle the other blonde. An excuse he wasn't about to let go of.

Deciding to just go for it, Jeanist scribbled across the teen's stomach. He was pleasantly surprised to hear Baku's poorly-restrained giggles. He wasn't putting up much of an effort to conceal them anymore. "Shihit- nohoho! Get ohohoff!" 

It was nice to hear the aggressive, loud teen giggle like that. After all, he was still a kid. A teenager, yes, but still a kid. The boy deserves to laugh. And, by the looks of it, he doesn't really mind. 

"You'd think that you would stop cussing, but no. Honestly, do you ever learn your lesson?" The wiggling fingers move upwards, heading for his ribs. Bakugou's giggling got louder, still lighter and bubbly. At least he was on the right track.

Jeanist slowly moved up Bakugou's ribs, scribbling between each bone. The teen squirmed and thrashed as much as he could, his pink cheeks deepening to a vibrant red. The giggling was now borderline laughter. Just needed that one extra notch to get there.

"Goho awahahay, ohohold mahahahan!" The pro scoffed, pausing his tickling for a second. That kid was in for it now… "Old man?! I'm 35, thank you very much! That's a perfectly normal age for a hero. I think you need a lesson in manners…" 

The pro's hand suddenly darted upwards, scribbling mercilessly on the spot where his underarms meet the top of his ribs. Bakugou all but screamed, loud cackles replacing his giggling. "NOHOHO! GEHEHET- NOHOT THEHEHERE!" 

Jeanist just chuckled as he continued his ticklish fun. He was enjoying himself, seeing his mentee laugh like that. The boy never let loose besides fighting, it was a nice sight. "There we go, improvement. No insults, and not one swear word!" He didn't really have a definite reason for tickling Bakugou, besides the fact that it was fun. Excuses would help, though.

Laughter echoed around Jeanist's office, bouncing off the walls and lively the place up. The denim-clad pro experimentally squeezed Bakugou's hip, smirking at the squawk he got in return. His fingers moved away from the teen's death spot, fully moving his hands down to focus on his hips. 

"OHOHO MY- IHIHI'LL KIHILL YOUHUHU!" Bakugou was trying to continue his sort-of squirming, but he was tiring out. The tickles, paired with that morning's training and patrol, had him beat. He managed to keep his head held up, laughing as the pro went at his hips. 

His thumbs drilled into the boisterous teen's hips, smirking as he pulled laugh after laugh out of him. The kid definitely had a nice one; much better than his normal demented cackling. His eyes wandered down to Bakugou's legs, questioning if they'd be half as his upper body. Lucky for him, he forgot a measurement. 

"Oh, my bad! I forgot to measure your inseam! We'll need to take care of that, now won't we?" Jeanist pulled the measuring tape from his pocket once again, holding it against Bakugou's thigh. Only this time, he actually poked around the area, purposefully tickling him while getting the measurement.

Thigh tickles are a completely different experience from anywhere else on the body (imo). As such, Bakugou's laugh was a brand-new shade of adorable. The fiery teen giggled and squeaked, pitchy laughter replacing his cackles.

"CohOHOme ohohon! Youhuhu AHA- uhum,  j-jeheherk!” To his mentor’s surprise, Bakugou actually filtered his language. True, he had begun to call him an ass, but he took the effort to stop himself. It was kinda cute, even if he didn’t truly care about the other blonde’s language.

Jeanist chuckled, easing up on his student’s hips. “Would you look at that, he can learn. All it took was some tickling!” Said student groaned, his cheeks reddening as Jeanist said the word. Normally, he can hear and say the word just fine. That time, however, he was being teased and restrained by someone he looked up to. It’s waaay harder to stay composed when you’re giggling like an idiot.

Finally, the tickling and teasing got to him. Bakugou actually tapped out. He didn’t exactly say “uncle” or anything, but he did say one word that hadn’t been spoken since Jeanist started. “S-STOHOHOP IHIT! JeHEHEAnihihist noho mohOHORE!” 

And stop it he did. The pro hero pulled his hands away as the threads holding Bakugou in place snapped. The teen fell forwards, a bit dazed from laughing so hard for so long. Jeanist caught the giggly student before he could hurt himself. “Woah, careful. I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Bakugou shook his head, hiding his red face in his mentor’s shoulder. “Sh-shuhuhut uhup…” That was the only response he needed to know that everything was fine. The older blonde wrapped his arms around him, keeping the boy upright and letting him know that there was no judgment. 

“Alright, I’ll stop. Still, you have to admit you enjoyed yourself just a little.” Bakugou groaned, weakly punching his mentor’s side. That just made him laugh and muss up the teen’s hair. “I’ll take that as another yes.” 

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Jeanist’s head as he remembered the whole reason the silliness started. “Oh, I almost forgot! Now that I’ve got your measurements, I can start on your new suit!” He walked over to a nearby couch, laying the teen down to rest. Bakugou wasn’t totally spent, but he could use a breather. He grumbled something, but didn’t protest any. He wanted a quick nap, and knew Jeanist wouldn’t tease him for it. 

The pro went over to his personal work-area, grabbing the fabrics for Bakugou’s new suit. Hopefully, by the time his student woke up, he would have a starting point on the garment.

Their playful exchange had given him some good ideas on where to add extra padding, as well as some pops of color. Bakugou might have been a bit temperamental, but he was a good kid. A good kid deserves a good suit. As he cut the first length of fabric, he thought of the happy smile that was on his mentee’s face as he tickled him. He would have to take measurements more often…

#mha tickle #lee!bakugou #ler!best jeanist #ticklish!bakugou #tickletober 2023 #augtickletober2023 #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #my hero academia tickle #mha tickling #bnha tickle #mha bakugo #mha best jeanist #tickletober

[kittyball23]

The Vesting (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Some years before Branch’s birth, Floyd gets officially inducted as a member of BroZone

A/N: Taking place before TBT

__________________________________________

The room was dark.

Floyd tried squinting, trying to adjust his eyes to make anything out, when all of a sudden, he was blinded by a bright light. He yelped and stepped back a little, the shine of the glowbug that had been lit startling him for just a second as it helped illuminate his surroundings. There, contrasted with the sharp light were his three older brothers standing across from him. John Dory was in the middle, holding the glowbug in his hands right under his face, as though he were holding a flashlight and about to tell a spooky story. Spruce was to his left and Clay was to his right. Floyd in the meantime stood there, uncertain of what was happening.

John Dory narrowed his eyes, and then suddenly began speaking in a deep, mysterious voice.

“We’ve gathered here today to undergo the most revered of ceremonies....”

Then, JD reached into his pocket and thrust a paper into Floyd’s hands. The magenta-haired Trolling, growing even more confused by the minute, gave a meek little “Huh?”

“Go on, read it!” John Dory urged.

Floyd looked down and skimmed through the words first, his brows furrowing. “Is this an oath?”

JD rolled his eyes. “No dude, a BROath,” he corrected.

“Which is pretty much like an oath,” Spruce clarified.

“Only ‘better’!” Clay added, making the word better with airquotes.

“Well it is,” JD said. He nudged Floyd. “Go ahead, dude, read it!”

Floyd shrugged. He may as well. He looked down at the page silently. He was only able to catch the first couple of sentences when the sound of a throat clearing made him stop. Floyd jerked his head up to find JD glaring down at him.

“Out loud.”

Floyd blushed. Whoops. After mumbling an apology, he cleared his throat and, as instructed, began to read the words on the page aloud. Or, as the title at the top was written, the ‘BroZone Credo.’

“’ 1) Family is numero uno. As fun as performing is, I promise to put bros before shows every time. 2) All bros are made equal, but we are not all the same. We have different colors, sizes, shapes and ages. I won’t judge my bro by his taste in music, but by his character. 3) A bro is not afraid to admit when he’s scared. When I am, I promise to confide in my bros and summon the Pop Power of all the brodacious superstars that came before us so that we can use all the love, all the smarts, and all the bravery we got to accomplish the ultimate Family Harmony. 4) All bros can make mistakes. I will admit when I’m wrong and work at it to make things right again. 5) Bros were born to sing. I promise to share my talents with others and not keep them all to myself. To earn my spot – ‘”

“Ooh, wait, wait, wait!” John Dory interrupted, waving his hands. “Stop there for a sec. You gotta raise your right hand now!”

“What?” Floyd shot a glance at Spruce and Clay. In return, they gave him a look that communicated Dude, we did this too. The magenta-haired Trolling shrugged and raised his right hand.

“Okay, good,” JD said. “Now you can keep reading.”

So Floyd did. “’To earn my spot within this band, I solemnly swear to uphold this oath – I mean, BROath – and honor it for the sake of my family.’”

“Forever?” JD asked him.

Floyd looked up from his paper and gave a small nod. “Forever.”

The BroZone leader smiled. “Good.” Then he snapped his fingers. “Spruce! Clay! Grab the item,” he commanded. The purple and yellow Trollings went off, and JD turned his attention to Floyd. “Floyd, arms up and eyes closed!”

By this point in the initiation, Floyd was still a little confused, but he’d learned to just go with it. He did as told (hoping he didn’t look too silly in his T-pose), and waited to see – or rather, hear – what was happening next. He heard some shuffling next to him, and then felt something being placed at his arms. Floyd began to open an eye, hoping to see what was going on, but he instantly shut it again at JD’s shout.

“Hey! No peeking!”

As the something was continued to be adjusted on his arms and then against his body, JD spoke.

“By the totally brodacious power invested in me – with an emphasis on the vest” – he paused to laugh at his own joke (one that Floyd was about to understand in just a few moments) – “I now pronounce you an official member of BroZone!!” He whooped and then clapped his hands. “Alright, now open ‘em up!”

Floyd blinked, and then looked down and gasped. A smile grew on his face as he beheld the elegant, magenta, polyester puffy jacket of a vest that was on him. It was pristine and brand new, fresh and perfectly form-fitting. It went with his hair, as each of his brothers' vests did, and he didn't need a mirror to know that it made him look, as John Dory would put it, totally brodacious! He turned this way and that, appreciating it no matter what angle he viewed it.

“Welcome to the band, little bro!” John Dory exclaimed. Spruce and Clay added in their own “Woo-hoo!”s and “You got it!”s to the chorus.

“Awww, well thanks you guys… thank you so much!” Floyd cooed, beginning to sniffle. The brothers already recognized the signs of oncoming tears, but didn’t badger the little guy about it. Classic Floyd always cried, but he had reason for his happy tears. This was a big moment! Another bro had just joined in on their special pact, and they were going to only continue to live up to their full potential. Before JD could help it, he thrust his hand out in front of him. Spruce recognized the motion and placed his hand on top of his, and then Clay on top of Spruce’s. Last but not least, Floyd still with tear-stained cheeks, placed his hand on Clay’s. They threw their hands up in the air together and chanted out.

“IT’S BRO-TIME!!”

Laughs and brotherly pats on the back followed… as well as an authoritative female voice from just the other room.

“No, it’s BEDtime,” the voice of their Grandma Rosiepuff called out, just before she appeared at the doorway of their room with her arms crossed. “Boys,” she continued, giving them a stern look. “Do you know how late it is?”

Groans came from the Trollings. “But Grandmaaa,” John Dory whined. “We were doing The Vesting!”

Grandma Rosiepuff snickered. She had seen JD do this special little ceremony of his for Spruce and then Clay when they were younger. JD pushed Floyd forward and beamed up at her. “See? Check out how he’s flexin’ the drip now! Pretty sweet, huh?”

Floyd looked up at their grandmother hopefully, his eyes shining. Grandma Rosiepuff smiled down at him. “It is ‘sweet,’ dear,” she said.

Floyd blushed while JD pumped his fists and Spruce and Clay high-fived.

“But do you know what else is ‘sweet’?” Grandma Rosiepuff continued. “Dreams.” She pointed a finger to the beds and the boys sighed, knowing that she was right. One by one, they slipped out of their vests and hung them at their bedposts (Floyd taking one more minute to admire his before he too did as his brothers had), and then they slipped into bed. Grandma Rosiepuff then made her rounds to each brother, helping to tuck them in. When she was finished, she turned off the glowbug and allowed it to flitter out the window.

“Good night,” she whispered to them.

And “G’night!” came the response of the four band members she was proud to call her grandsons.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #floyd trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #grandma rosiepuff #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes

[geekgirles]

Something Like You

Summary:

There were many things Branch expected from being forced to go on a date with the winner of Brozone's latest contest: boredom, forced smiles, awkwardness, the looming possibility that he might meet his end tonight at the hands of an obsessive fan...

Never in a million years would he have expected falling in love with her, however. Or the many other surprises that meeting would entail.

Word count: 8959 words

Pairings: Broppy, BrandyxBruce

Read on AO3

As he wriggled in his seat in a futile attempt to make himself comfortable, his fingers drumming impatiently on the mushroom table, all Branch could think of was one thing:

He sincerely hoped Spruce—or Bruce, if he went through with it and changed his name—and Brandy didn’t last. 

At first he had been ecstatic when his brother told him and their siblings the news. How could they not be happy for him? He had finally found a girlfriend who seemed to like him beyond his role as Brozone’s Heartthrob! Moreover, one that had accepted his proposal to marry him! That was all Spruce could ask for ever since he hit puberty and trolls started noticing him, and vice versa. 

Sure, Brandy wasn’t even a troll to begin with—truth be told, Branch wasn’t even sure what she was—, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she made his big brother happy. Even if she towered over all her in-laws and the lucky couple wasn’t even sure if they could have kids together, it was okay. Because Branch had never seen Spruce as happy or in love as he was with Brandy. And he should know; he had been seeing his second-oldest brother change partners almost as often as he worked on his exquisitely chiselled abs since he was a baby!

And now he had finally found the one whom he wanted to settle down with…

At least, that was how Branch had felt before the terrible fate that awaited him dawned on him.

Boy, did Spruce leave behind a string of broken hearts! Seeing all the sobbing, heartbroken fans who wailed after him once it had been officially announced Spruce had entered a serious relationship and would no longer be going on dates with the winners of Brozone’s numerous contests, a part of Branch couldn’t help but be slightly alarmed at John Dory’s reaction to it. Such a calm, collected demeanour in the face of such a major shaking of their established status quo did not match the eldest brother’s usual control freak nature. At all.

Even though he never particularly cared about sales—just as well, seeing as those contests and other Spruce-related paraphernalia made up about 75% of the band’s income—, John Dory was a well-known perfectionist. Branch could distinctly remember his very first tour as a baby. John Dory almost blew a gasket when they couldn’t reach the Perfect Family Harmony!

Even today, Branch knew that, if it hadn’t been for Floyd intervening, Brozone would have disbanded that night for good. 

Which was all the more reason to grow unnerved at his nonplussed reaction to his younger brother publicly announcing he was officially off-the-market and, though he would still be Brozone’s Heartthrob, had explicitly entered ‘you can look, but you can’t touch’ territory. It was so out-of-character of him, all four younger siblings had convened to have Floyd use his psychology training to talk to John Dory and figure out what was going on. 

“Looking back, I really should have seen this coming…” Branch grumbled quietly to himself with a roll of his eyes. 

It wouldn’t be until relatively recently that they would come to understand the reason why John Dory was taking Spruce’s decision so well. Sure, John Dory’s role as The Leader meant he was usually too busy for this sort of thing anyway; and Clay had long written the whole experience off after the last fan thought it would be a good idea to sign him up on Open Mic Night at a stand-up comedy club to perform, seeing as he was The Fun Guy and all…; and Floyd, aside from only really meeting up with a very specific side of their demography, could get overwhelmed easily by the experience, so he couldn’t really take on Spruce’s role, either.

…which left Branch as the fill-in for their dear Heartthrob and the prize to win in their contests. Because, why not? It wasn’t like despite his public persona as Brozone’s youngest and cutest member he, alongside Clay, could be quite cynical and hated putting up a façade for longer than necessary. Or that, like Floyd, he was quite introverted and usually preferred to spend his free time on a Friday night inside their shared bunker—which he built almost single-handedly, thank you very much—reading a good book and drinking a steaming mug of coffee in his bathrobe. 

No, of course not! Putting on a fake, strained smile on his face for hours on end as he risked meeting his very own personal stalker and potential kidnapper (or murderer!) was his ideal date plan!

Did he mention sarcasm also ran in the family?

Lamenting his luck and cursing his eldest brother for the umpteenth time that evening, Branch quickly checked the time on his Hug Time Bracelet. “Quarter-to-Hug. She really should be here by now…” Putting aside the slight annoyance he felt, he ultimately shrugged it off before popping a fry into his mouth. “Then again, as humiliating as it would be to be stood up by the very person who competed to win a date with me, it’s not like I can complain. It’s way better than the alternative…”

Although Branch had to admit, the whole thing had been a little weird. John Dory had instructed him to be on his best behaviour and listen intently to what the girl (because apparently the winner was a girl—good to know, not like he cared) had to say, because of course he had. That was pretty much the drill with these dates. And yet, there was something about him that seemed…off. Almost like this was somehow more important to him than just leaving a lasting, positive impression on one of their fans. 

Could it be that this girl was rich, or something? Maybe she actually spent a fortune in…in whatever it was contestants were required to do to get their date this time. Maybe she was one of Spruce’s hardcore fans and this was their one chance to convince her to remain loyal to the band even after her favourite became unobtainable. Or maybe—

“Oh, my Troll Tree! I’m so sorry I’m late! I was held up in a meeting.”

Ears twitching at the sound of the new, oddly melodic voice, Branch did his best to push down the urge to roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment at her expense. Instead, he put on his most charming smile and finally turned to face the troll he’d be spending the next several hours with. 

Only for his heart to stop at the sight of her. 

He had to be dreaming, there was simply no way this was really happening. At least, not to him. For some reason, he suddenly got Perfect stuck in his head. 

The troll before him wasn’t just a troll; she was a vision of loveliness. A creature so divine and angelic he couldn’t stop his eyes from quickly scanning her up and down in search of her golden halo or a pair of fluffy, white wings. 

She wasn’t real, she just couldn’t be! Someone so breathtakingly beautiful only existed within the passionate, sugary-sweet lyrics they so often sang about. This girl before him was more enchanting than the subjects of Girl, Baby, Baby; Baby, Baby, Girl; and Baby, Baby, Girl, Woman combined! Frosting, her mere presence was enough to inspire the poet inside of him a thousand sonnets, let alone love songs!

In fact, she alone was pure poetry. An ode to everything beautiful and good in this world. 

Her skin was the loveliest shade of pink, that which adorned the sky during the very first hours of the morning and made it a little easier to look at everything through rose-coloured glasses. In contrast, the countless glittery freckles on her face, shining even under the pod’s faint light, looked like she had quite literally reached out for the stars and used them to accentuate her blush. 

Her nose, a darker shade of pink than the rest of her skin, wrinkled in the cutest way, reminding him of a small critter, as she brushed her fringe behind her delightfully round ears, almost shyly. And her hair, her bright, magenta hair that she wore loose except for a deceptively simple braided headband consisting of felt leaves and twigs, looked like silk. He suddenly had a very strong urge to intertwine his own cobalt locks around hers and test out if it was truly as soft as it looked. 

She was just—

“Hi, I’m Poppy!” She introduced herself, breaking him out of his trance. She gestured at the booth he had been occupying for the last twenty minutes. “Mind if I sit down next to you?”

It took a moment for Branch’s brain to reboot itself. When it finally did, he practically jumped to his feet, startling his date—Poppy— slightly and making a few other patrons look at him oddly. 

“Yes, yes! Of course!” He blurted out, a little louder than he had intended. Noticing Poppy’s slightly uncomfortable stance, he forced himself to calm down. He cleared his throat with forced nonchalance and exited the booth. Just as the pink troll was about to ask him what was wrong, he bowed politely and gestured to the seat he had just vacated. “After you, my lady.”

Looking back and forth between his gentlemanly pose and the seat he was gesturing at, Poppy couldn’t help but giggle cutely at his actions, unknowingly letting loose a hurricane of butterflies in his stomach. He was such a gentleman. There was a reason why he was her favourite. 

She’d been right; he’d be the perfect choice to explain her plan to. 

“Why, thank you.” She said with a curtsy of her own. Walking right past him, she got inside the booth, wriggling herself between the cushions until she made herself comfortable, not unlike Branch had done earlier. 

Once she was comfortable enough, Poppy laced her hands over the table and sent a grateful smile at the blue troll watching her attentively.  

Branch remained standing for a few more seconds, just committing the expression on Poppy’s face to memory. When her smile dimmed in confusion, however, he realised he was taking way longer than necessary and scrambled to sit next to her with as much dignity as he could muster. 

Now that he was by her side, the smile returned to Poppy’s face. “I really can’t thank you enough for agreeing to meet up with me, Branch.” She told him honestly. “I understand you must be very busy, yet you made some time for me. Thank you so much.”

Branch almost told her it was the least he could do after how much she’d been supporting Brozone, the automatic response he gave to all their fans almost rolling off his tongue, but thankfully stopped himself. He couldn’t saddle Poppy up with every other troll who won a date with them and give her a half-hearted response; not when her mere presence made Branch feel like he was the winner. She deserved so much more. 

With a boldness he didn’t know he possessed, he reached out and gently placed his hand on hers. As the pink beauty looked down in surprise, the loveliest shade of pink dusting her features and making her freckles stand out even more, Branch said, “Trust me, Poppy, the pleasure is all mine.”

If he felt like a winner before, the moment her smile widened in appreciation, Branch felt like he was on top of the world. 

The loud thumping on his chest echoing in his eardrums, his own face probably turning lavender at this point, the youngest member of Brozone hurried to appear as nonchalant as possible, clearing his throat awkwardly and stammering a bit. 

“I-I know this-this must be a little o-overwhelming for you.” He swallowed loudly. “B-but, you have nothing to worry about. Deep down I’m just like any other troll. One with several Double Platinum Records and over a dozen music awards, true, but just a normal troll, nonetheless.”

“Frosting!” Branch cursed to himself. “Did that sound too braggy? Does she think I’m a show-off, now? I mean, she is a Brozone fan, so she must know all that already but, still, that’s not the kind of information you just blurt out in the middle of your first date! …wait a minute. Does this even count as an actual date? What’s the actual difference between this and having a back-stage pass?”

As Branch was too busy panicking and overthinking his own words, he couldn’t help but avert his eyes, his blue irises darting back and forth the pod they were in yet refusing to land on Poppy, too afraid of her reaction to take that chance. Had he allowed his eyes to land on her, however, he would have noticed the slightly perplexed expression on her face.

“Wait, does he think I’m nervous because he’s a member of Brozone?” She blinked, not quite sure what to make of the situation. “But I’m the—!”

Before she could finish her train of thought, their waitress for the night finally arrived, ready to take their order. “Well, can I get you, you lovebirds—?” Her words got stuck in her throat when she lifted her eyes from her notepad and took a good look at her customers, mouth slightly agape as her eyes glanced back and forth from Branch to Poppy. 

The troll’s own awkward behaviour was all it took for Branch to get a hold of himself. Though a little surprised at first by her reaction, it didn’t take him long to understand everything. He nodded in understanding. Of course she was taken aback. She most likely hadn’t noticed she’d be serving a member of Brozone, after all. Let alone one that was on a date—he still wasn’t quite sure if that applied to their case, but let’s call it one to keep things simple. 

With a good-natured roll of his eyes, he opened up his menu. “Yeah, she’s with me. It’s no big deal.” Taking notice of Poppy’s own surprised face at his comment, he dared to be a little bold again and sent her a playful wink. The adorable little sound she made when she chuckled immediately engraved itself onto his memory. “So, yeah, I’ll have a root beer and the roasted mushroom with marshtato tots. And the lady…?”

“Will have a chocolate milkshake and some chicken finger puppets, please.” Poppy replied, handing her menu back to their waitress with a quick ‘thank you’ and a smile as Branch did the same. 

That seemed to break the waitress out of her daze. “Right. Got it. Coming right up!”

“Hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable.” Branch said once their waitress was out of earshot. He was used to people losing their minds over his mere presence, but Poppy was probably wholly unprepared for something like that ever happening to her. He wanted to make sure she was okay. 

To his immense surprise and slight mirth, Poppy just made a psh! sound as she waved him off, as if the mere notion was ridiculous. “Don’t worry! It’s no big deal, really. Happens all the time, am I right?” 

At that last part, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him, almost like they shared a secret. It made Branch chuckle; she probably meant she should expect that from spending time with him. 

With a playful roll of his eyes, Branch leaned closer to her, his face resting on his propped up arm. “Don’t I know it?”

The two shared a small laugh at that, and Hair if Poppy’s cute giggling didn’t suddenly become the reason blood even pumped through Branch’s veins. Seriously, at this rate, that little sound she made when she laughed would kill him. 

But as he momentarily got lost in his own daydreams, the pink troll’s expectant expression brought him back to Earth with a start. It took a lot out of him to keep his expression even and not show the slight panic he was feeling as realisation hit him. The one supposed to be enjoying the date was Poppy, not him! And though he was extremely grateful for getting to know her, he should never put himself before their fans’ enjoyment. 

John Dory would kill him if word got out that Poppy didn’t have a good time. 

Clearing his throat slightly—and lamenting, not for the first time, his suave persona only really came up when he was on stage—, he tried breaking the ice. “So, this night is all about you, Poppy. Anything you need from me?”

“Oh!” Poppy exclaimed, a little surprised by his question. Then again, he was right; there was a reason she was here, after all, and it had to do with him. Taking a minute to think about her answer, she finally said, “Well, I suppose there is something…”

For the first time since he became a member of Brozone—basically his whole entire life—Branch found himself thinking he, for once, wouldn’t be opposed to fulfilling her request if Poppy asked for a kiss. 

He wasn’t that lucky. “I was wondering if you think it’d be feasible for Brozone to sing at a special event?”

Oh. 

Wait, what?

“...I’m sorry?” The conversation had taken a turn he wasn’t expecting. At all. 

“Yeah! I mean…” Poppy floundered for words. Maybe she went in for the kill a little too early, her fidgeting hands betraying her nervousness. “I guess I was wondering if you guys would be opposed to singing outside of your concerts. I know each of you has been trying to do your own thing aside from the band for a while now, so you don’t make as many public appearances as before anymore. And now that Spruce is officially engaged, things are probably going to be even more hectic and there’ll be more changes, so…”

Bright, blue eyes stared intently at the beautiful troll before him as she rambled. He could feel she had a point with this, she wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t, but Branch was struggling to figure out what it really was. His ears perked up at the mention of Bruce, his confused expression giving way to realisation. 

“You’re worried about the future of the band, aren’t you?” He questioned, his tone soft and understanding. 

At that, Poppy stopped talking, staring back at him with wide eyes. After a few seconds of silence, her shoulders relaxed a little as she let out a nervous giggle. “You could say that?” She chuckled again. “I’m sorry, I know I’m asking for a lot, it’s just—”

Before she could say more, Branch shushed her gently. Almost instinctively, he reached for her hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze to get her to look at him. His heart skipped a bit when those pools of pink met his gaze, beckoning him to drown in them. 

“It’s okay, Poppy. I understand.”

“Really?” She asked, her voice sounding so hopeful it tugged at his heartstrings in a way that was almost painful. 

How could he not understand? Everything she said was true. Back when his brothers were teenagers and he was just a baby, then a child, Brozone was pretty much everything they had going on. Whenever they weren’t at home, taking care of Grandma Rosiepuff (and getting totally demolished at cards), they would be busy with the band. JD would organise everything—and be a tad bossy about it, of course— and compose the lyrics for their upcoming singles and albums. Spruce would work on his physique and his public relations skills, as his role as their Heartthrob meant he was essentially their face to the public. Clay would be thinking up new Fun Guy routines whilst working on the perfect choreography to go along JD’s latest song. And Floyd would be up to the hair both trying to keep the peace between his bickering brothers and adding the melody to their soon-to-be latest hit. 

And of course, as Branch grew, he too ended up having his own responsibilities and obligations. His single-minded goal of building their bunker helped morph him into a troll with a natural talent for architecture, technical support, lighting, acoustics…; which he then applied to their performances. He was essentially the band’s own stage technician! And when he hit puberty and hormones started acting up, they discovered a new talent of his: poetry.

And just like that, the youngest sibling became the group’s composer, too. Not like his new position and the respect it commanded prevented his brothers from teasing him about the countless poems he was sure to recite to whoever caught his eye—looking at Poppy now and thinking back to the twenty-something poems and songs he’d come up about her already, a part of him hated to admit his brothers did indeed know him well. 

Seemingly overnight, Branch ended up being the brother with the most responsibilities, even though both Clay and JD, thankfully, helped him with their respective processes. And Floyd was always there to offer emotional support, too, of course.

Point is, Poppy’s worries were understandable. The group was changing, they all had different interests now. John Dory, perfectionist tendencies aside, spent a lot of his time working on Rhonda and travelling around Troll Kingdom, even if he claimed it was to gain inspiration for new songs. Spruce was going to get married, and he already spent long periods of time helping Brandy out at her restaurant in her native Vacay Island. Clay was a licensed CPA, as into safety procedures as Branch was, and he moderated Pop Village’s Sad Book Club. And Floyd put years of mediating his brothers’ arguments to good use and underwent psychology training, as well as branched out to other genres and became the lead vocalist of an indie death metal band. 

…Branch had to admit the last one took him aback more than it should have. 

And with Brozone-related activities and concerts becoming more and more far and in between, it was no wonder their fans feared they might be retiring soon. 

“Of course, I do.” He told her honestly, a kind smile playing on his lips. “That’s essentially my life you’re talking about!”

Poppy’s expression turned sheepish. “Oh! Well, I suppose, when you put it like that, you’d obviously understand…” She trailed off, chuckling awkwardly. Somehow, this meeting was both going exactly as she’d ever dreamed of, and not at all like she’d been expecting…

Maybe agreeing to meet up with her celebrity crush had not been the smartest move on her part. Her brain felt like mush whenever she stared into vibrant blue. 

Sensing her discomfort, Branch went on, trying to ease her into the conversation. “Again, I do. But I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about; Brozone isn’t going anywhere in a long time.” Pausing for a second to think, he added, “In fact, I’d say we could really use some more impromptu performances. Show our fans we’re still here for them.”

“Trust me, I know a troll or two that would kill to see more of you guys.” Poppy added knowingly. She rolled her eyes with a good-natured shake of her head at what appeared to be some interesting memories. 

Fully aware of the level of overzealousness some of their fans could reach, the blue troll gulped, feeling no inclination to know what his lovely companion was thinking about when her fond expression turned disturbed. 

Finally, she dispelled whatever unsettling thoughts she was having with a frantic wave of her hands. “Anywho, I was thinking you guys might try performing in celebrations. At least, the ones that don’t overlap with your busy schedules.” She added after a beat, almost like an afterthought. 

“‘Celebrations’?” Branch echoed, an eyebrow raised, intrigued. “What kind of celebrations? Because, full disclosure, John Dory is very adamant in not going back to singing for things like birthday parties, weddings, or funerals unless they’re a really big deal—like King Peppy’s fun-birthday! King Peppy’s super fun birthday party!”, he caught himself before he could say anything insensitive. Trolls did not take kindly to the mention of their leaders dying. And was it his imagination or did Poppy perk up slightly at the mention of the king? “He feels we’ve come too far to go back to our roots like that.”

Although JD’s sense of self-importance definitely played a key part in the band’s decision to only perform in their concerts or very specific events, Branch made a point to omit the fact that they weren’t exactly welcomed into such gatherings, either. At least not since he left a lasting impression on Uncle Ron Sr.’s wife during her birthday, her wedding, and her husband’s funeral…

Boy, looking back, that woman had some very intense couple of years. 

Shaking his head from such thoughts, he let his gaze fall on Poppy, an action that was becoming second nature at that point, when she continued, “Yeah, I know. But I mean, do you think you guys would be opposed to singing in big events?”

“Poppy, we’re trolls. Everything we do is a big event.” He couldn’t help but deadpan. JD would surely call him out on it if he found out, but seriously, he once saw some trolls throwing a rager after realising they’d managed to divide their pizza equally, without the need to fight for the last slice. 

Luckily for him, she seemed to take his words in stride, biting her lip as she giggled cutely and giving the boy band member a first row seat to the string of pearly white peeking from behind. How was it possible that this girl got more adorable by the second?

“Can’t argue with you there. But I was actually thinking about, say, performing live at the Electric Foam Parade?” She said coyly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

Branch’s jaw dropped in shock. “Are you kidding me? Of course we’d love to! The Electric Foam Parade is essentially the event of the year for musicians. Biggest show after the Trollings’ Choice Awards and the Glittery Awards ceremony!” As a wild grin overtook his face, he leaned a little closer to Poppy, his voice lowering into a whisper as if he were about to divulge some well-kept secret. “Between you and me, John Dory considers losing our spot to the TrollsTree Boys fifteen years ago to be his greatest failure.”

“Ugh, I’m so with him there!” Poppy agreed with a laugh. When she took notice of the blue troll’s questioning gaze, she hurriedly tried to correct herself. “Not on the ‘greatest failure’ part, of course. I-I-I I’m sure he did his best and you all worked very hard for it, just that finding out the TrollsTree Boys would be performing instead of you was such a total bummer.”

Branch allowed a playful smirk to tug at his lips. “Bet you refused to go the moment you found out.”

To his surprise, despite her laughter, Poppy actually shook her head. “I would’ve loved to. You know, standing with my favourite band in solidarity, as any good fan ought to do, but I just couldn’t. I was supposed to be there and couldn’t skip, you know?” She threw her head back, a groan escaping her throat. “Man, responsibilities sometimes suck, right?”

Even though Branch was nodding, as he honestly agreed with her assessment, a part of him couldn’t help but be puzzled at Poppy’s words. She was supposed to be at the Electric  Foam Parade? How was that even possible? As much as any troll loved a good party, it wasn’t like they were morally obligated to attend them. 

It wasn’t as if Poppy was King Peppy, for crying out loud!

Once again, his train of thought skidded to a halt when Poppy spoke up, unaware of the many questions circling around his mind. “Anyway, all the more reason to redeem yourselves and give it a try, right?” She gave a gentle nudge as she flashed him a smirk.  

He smiled back. “Trust me, nothing would please my brothers more. Especially JD. And Spruce,” he added after a beat. “Oddly, he developed a sort of rivalry with the TrollsTree Boys’ own Heartthrob when his biggest fan left him for him.”

“The betrayal!” Poppy gasped, a hand over her heart. 

“Tell me about it… You’d think he’d been actually dumped with the way he acted back then.”

“So? Isn’t that all the more reason to give it a try? To show everyone Brozone’s all set and ready to bro?”

“Hey, don't look at me!” Branch raised his hands up in surrender. “That’s not up to us, but rather, we’re granted the honour by King Peppy.”

“But what if you were granted the honour?” Poppy insisted, and the shimmering glint in her pink eyes betrayed a thousand thoughts going on behind them. Her body was practically buzzing with excitement, her grin stretched so wide Branch would have worried it might hurt her hadn’t he been so distracted by his heart thumping wildly in his ribcage. “Branch, what I’m trying to say is—.”

She never got to finish her sentence. 

“Here you go! Roasted mushroom with marshtato tots and root beer for the gentleman, and chicken finger puppets with a chocolate milkshake for the lady!” Their waitress announced happily, setting down their food to enjoy. Smiling widely at the pair, she jabbed her thumb behind her, and for the first time that night, Branch took notice of the small stage in the centre of the room. “Today’s your lucky day; it’s karaoke night!” She sent a wink Poppy’s way. “You might get to listen to Mr. Popular over here sing you a song!”

As she left the two to enjoy their food and tend to the other customers, a grin spread over Branch’s face. She’d just given him a great idea. 

Turning back to face Poppy, he found her staring down at their food in interest, the hunger reflected in her eyes. As she gingerly picked up a piece of chicken and dipped it into the honey mustard sauce—after a brief enactment of Hamlet, of course; it was only proper etiquette—, he caught her eye. Her brow furrowed in confusion when she noticed he wasn’t eating. 

Taking a bite out of her food and swallowing, she asked, “Everything okay? Is your mushroom too well done, or not done enough?”

“Oh, no. It’s alright, don’t worry.” He answered, absentmindedly poking at the offending fungi with his fork. Setting the utensil aside, he cleared his throat. He could already feel his insides tingling at what he was about to do. “Hey, Poppy?” He called out to her. As soon as the captivating pink of her eyes met his gaze, he continued, “I was thinking that maybe I could do something to make your night really worth it. After all, you’re a Brozoner! It’s the least I can do to thank you for your support! It really means a lot, you know.”

The youngest member of Brozone felt an odd sense of accomplishment when her freckles got accentuated by the blush spreading across her cheeks. “Oh, Branch… You really don’t have to. You agreeing to meet up with me is more than enough already!”

She tried to brush his offer off with a modest wave of her hand. What she wasn’t counting on, however, was Branch gently taking her hand in his for the third—or was it fourth?—  time that evening and looking at her like she was made out of glitter. 

“Just let me take you to a better place.” He told her, his velvety voice impossibly soft. 

Poppy could only nod dumbly at his request, her eyes wide and shimmering under the faint light as the handsome troll she had admired for so long wordlessly left the booth and made his way towards the little stage located in the middle of the pod. She let out a gasp. Was he really…?

As if on cue, her silent question was answered by Branch’s voice resonating throughout the space, immediately bringing all eyes on him like the superstar he was. 

“Good evening, everyone! How’re we doing tonight?”

A cacophony of cheers and even cat calls answered back, making the blue troll chuckle fondly. Grabbing the mic and taking it off its stand, he spoke into the device. “I hope you don’t mind me hogging the spotlight for a little while. You see, I’m with a very special troll tonight,” as the words left his mouth, all eyes turned to follow his own gaze, which hadn’t strayed away from Poppy since they first met. 

He absentmindedly noted how weird their silent astonishment at the sight of her was. Normally, when one of them went out on a date with one of their fans, trolls would be congratulating or even lightly teasing the lucky troll, but it wasn’t the case with Poppy. For some reason, they seemed surprised, but not as much as they would have been. Perhaps they were finally getting used to seeing fans around their idols? 

Shaking those thoughts away, he went on. “We’re supposed to be having a good time, but I can’t help but feel like I haven’t exactly delivered. So, here’s to rectify such terrible oversight on my part.” He threw a wink the pink beauty’s way, causing the trolls gathered to squeal and swoon at the display. “This one’s for you, Poppy.”

Taking a deep breath, he let his velvety notes be carried over around the space. His tone, soulful and rich, strived to reflect his innermost feelings with each vibration of his voice. As he let himself be lost to the memory, his eyes searched Poppy’s, silently pleading for her mere presence to be his anchor and keep him grounded. 

“So, many times

I thought, I held it in my hands

But just like, grains of sand

Love slipped, through my fingers

So, many nights

I asked, the Lord above

Please, make me lucky enough

To find a Love, that lingers” 

It wasn’t Brozone’s most popular song. In fact, it technically wasn’t even one of their songs! At least not officially; they had never recorded it, let alone released it to the public. Despite how powerful of a melody it was, they just couldn’t bring themselves to capitalise on it. 

It was the last thing they had of their parents, after all. 

“Something, keeps tellin' me

That you could be, my answered prayer

You must be Heaven sent, I swear...

'Cause…”

Grandma Rosiepuff used to say their father had written that song to propose to their mother, and their parents would sing it to their precious trollings when they couldn’t sleep. Branch had been the only exception, his parents’ being taken barely a few days before he hatched. But his brothers and Grandma made sure he never forgot how much their parents loved each other and their family. 

And now, something deep within his bones compelled him to sing it to Poppy. He doubled his efforts when he reached the chorus, desperate to properly convey the depths of his soul to the tantalising troll staring at him with so much awe in her eyes, it made him feel more important than a million fans screaming his name in a concert. 

“Something happens when you look at me, I forget to speak

Something happens when you kiss my mouth, my knees get so weak

Could it be true, this is what God has meant for me

'Cause, baby I can't believe

That something, like you

...Could happen to me

Yeah-yeah...

Something, like you…”

It was like all her childhood fantasies had suddenly come true. Oh, how many nights had she dreamed of something like this? Of Brozone singing exclusively for her? Of Branch, her favourite by a long shot, dedicating her a song? All trolls longed for their special someone to serenade them, but should she dare believe Branch could be doing this beyond a sense of obligation given who she was?

For the moment, she chose not to care. Her eyes never leaving his dashing figure as he danced and sang his heart out on stage—all for her. 

“Girl, in your eyes

I feel your fire burn (feel your fire burn)

Oh, your secrets, I will learn

Even if it takes forever...

With you, by my side

I can do, anything (can do, anything)

I don't care what tomorrow, brings

As long, as we're together”

Even as the other patrons cheered for him and swayed to the music, clearly enjoying the show and choice of song, Branch’s blue eyes were dead set on Poppy. Scrutinising her expression, her every move. She looked so happy, so touched. Almost as if this were the first time anyone ever broke into song just to let her know how utterly wonderful she was. 

That wouldn’t do. If someone as enchanting as Poppy had never had anyone serenade her, what chances did the rest of us, mere mortals, have? He laced his voice with newfound intensity, a burning desire to make that pink angel feel as special as she was. 

“My heart is tellin' me

That you could be, my meant to be

I know it, more each time we touch...

'Cause...

Somethin' happens when you look at me, I forget to speak

Something happens when you kiss my mouth, my knees get so weak

Could it be true, this is what God has meant for me

'Cause, baby I can't believe

That something, like you

Could happen to me”

Feeling the song coming to a close, Poppy followed her instincts, allowing her feet to guide her through the crowd of enthused viewers and closer to the wonderful troll turning what was supposed to be a simple meeting into one of the most spectacular nights of her life. 

Coming up to the stage, she leaned against it, her head resting on her crossed forearms as she stared up at Branch adoringly. Surely, this wasn’t creepy or too obvious, was it? He was bound to have had countless fans do the same thing before, right? 

For his part, upon noticing Poppy’s figure expertly and politely avoiding crashing into his small audience until she finally reached him, Branch crouched down next to her so their faces could be close enough for her to see the devotion shining behind his eyes. Surely, this was okay, right? There was nothing wrong with showing this beautiful, sweet, incredible troll that he cared, now was it? As long as Poppy had fun tonight, not even John Dory could reprimand him for anything. 

“Something magical (something magical)

Something spiritual (something spiritual)

Something stronger than the two of us alone

...Yeah

Something physical

...Something undeniable (undeniable)

Nothing, like anything (anything)

That, I've ever known...

'Cause...

Something happens

When you look at me, I forget to speak

Something happens

When you kiss my mouth, my knees get so weak

Could it be true, this is what God has meant for me”

As the blue-haired troll allowed himself to get lost in Poppy’s stunning pink eyes, her captivating smile drawing him closer and shining so bright it could eclipse the sun, all Branch could think of was one thing:

He sincerely hoped Bruce had a wonderful marriage to Brandy and they had many kids. Like, a lot. Maybe something like twelve boys and one daughter. 

It was the least they deserved for giving him the chance to meet the reason his heart beat at all. 

“'Cause, baby I can't believe ...No

(That something, like you) Something, like you

(Something, like you)

That something, like you...

...Could happen to me

Can't believe, that you happened to me.”

.......................

After the spell the both of them seemed to be under was broken by the other patrons' raucous cheering and rounds of applause, Poppy and Branch went back to enjoy their dinner. They exchanged stories and playfully teased each other, with Poppy practically eating up each and every piece of gossip Branch could tell her about his brothers without really breaking their trust. In turn, Poppy, who seemed to be quite the adventurer, shared her own anecdotes of her time away from Pop Village. That one time she unknowingly ate a ballberry and blew up like a balloon was equal parts hilarious and disconcerting.  

Oddly enough, she kept bringing up the idea of Brozone singing at all kinds of holidays, which if you knew Pop Village, were a lot. But understanding she was just a fan eager to see some more of her favourite boy band, Branch shrugged it off. If he were being honest with himself, knowing his siblings, especially their leader, they’d probably be down for it. 

As the night drew to a close, Branch found himself escorting Poppy back to her pod, both out of gentlemanly obligation and uncontrollable desire to prolong the night as much as possible. Glancing around, he surmised the reason John Dory was so adamant the night was perfect was indeed because she had to have money; she certainly lived in one of the nicest parts of the village. 

When they finally reached the door to her pod, it was clear neither wanted the night to end. 

“I had a wonderful time, Branch. Thank you so much.” Poppy told him honestly, her appreciation reflected in her eyes and the grin playing on her lips.  

“Trust me, Poppy. The pleasure was all mine.” He smiled back at her. 

“And, um, please, do think about what we’ve talked about tonight, okay?” She pleaded, brushing her fringe away from her face shyly. 

His smile morphing into a playful smirk, Branch pretended to think, tapping a finger against his chin. “What we’ve talked about tonight?” He asked no one in particular. Seeing Poppy’s suddenly distressed expression, he chuckled, letting go of the ruse. “Of course I remember, Poppy. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to my brothers about singing at some celebrations.”

The pink beauty let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Troll! For a moment there I genuinely thought you’d forgotten! I’m…I’m really looking forward to seeing you all perform soon.” 

Then, mustering her characteristic boldness, she closed the space between the two of them and planted a soft, sweet kiss on her beloved idol’s cheek. Her ears perking up when she heard him let out an almost inaudible gasp. 

As Branch stood there, completely frozen, a hand tentatively reaching out to touch the spot where Poppy had just kissed him—it felt like it was on fire under his touch—, Poppy thanked him one last time for everything and went inside her pod, bidding him good night. 

It took more time than Branch cared to admit for his brain to catch up with reality and for him to gain enough presence of mind to stop standing on Poppy’s door like a stalker and begin the trek back home. But Branch couldn’t care less. He was on cloud nine!

Who would’ve thought he’d find the love of his life in one of Brozone’s contests? Just waiting for him to notice her?

He was in such a good mood, upon descending into their bunker’s living room, one of the communal rooms it possessed, his brothers immediately perked up, taking notice of their baby brother’s unusual behaviour. 

“I take it everything went well?” Floyd, ever the observant one, asked Branch as he flopped down next to him on the sofa. The magenta-haired brother had to admit it was a little weird seeing his younger brother look so happy, his smile hadn’t been so wide since he reached puberty, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

If anyone deserved to be smiling like a fool for once, it was Branch. 

“It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.” Branch replied, his voice steeped in utter bliss.

“Oooooh, I know that look!” Spruce exclaimed, a knowing smirk planting itself on his features. With a few purposeful strides, he strutted over to the sofa, leaning against the armrest and peering down at his little brothers, but especially at Branch. “Somebody’s got a crush!”

That immediately got Branch on the defensive. “What?! No! I-I-I I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

If his stammering sounded suspicious to his ears, no doubt it sounded off to his brothers, too. Still, refusing to admit defeat, the blue-haired sibling crossed his eyes and resolutely avoided eye contact with Spruce, not unlike when he was a child pouting at something his brothers said. 

“How cute! He’s blushing lavender!” Clay pointed out, looking up from his novel. 

“Shouldn’t you be reading?” Branch snapped. To his chagrin, his blush only deepened.

To be honest, the middle child was behind on his Sad Book Club book of the month, but his catching up could wait. Teasing Branch was always such a delight, and the idea of his baby brother finally getting himself a girlfriend was too good to pass up on. 

Unfortunately, just as he was about to quip back, their eldest brother’s voice interrupted their bickering. 

“Oh, Branch. You’re back.” John Dory half-heartedly greeted him, looking up from the stack of documents in his hands for a second as he entered the room. Pulling a pen out of his hair, he worked diligently on the papers in his hands for a short while before returning his focus on his little brother. “Hey, listen man, thank you so much for filling in for me tonight. I swear, I would’ve gone myself, but these last few days work just kept piling up and if I didn’t finish making the last adjustments to Baby, You Drive Me Wild But I Think Our Relationship Is Fuelled Only by Excitement and Won’t Last tonight, it just wouldn’t be ready on time to be included in our next album!”

Branch was about to wave it off when something he said caught him off-guard. 

“Wait, I was filling in for you?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Why? Is there a problem?”

“No, not really. I just thought I was filling in for Spruce, now that he’s off the market and all that…”

“And you are.” John Dory confirmed. At the same time as Spruce said, “And I couldn’t be more thankful for that.”

“But that’s only when we hold a contest among our fans and the prize is a date with one of us.” Their turquoise-haired leader continued, his eyes squinting in confusion at their baby brother. 

“But you just said I was filling in for you tonight.” Branch insisted, his own confusion apparent. 

“And you were!” John Dory threw his hands to his sides, not following. Seriously, they were going ‘round in circles. 

As usual, it was Floyd who came to their rescue. Turning to Branch, he asked cautiously. “Branch, what did you think you were doing tonight?”

Branch  was a little taken aback by the way Floyd phrased his question. It was almost like he knew something he didn’t. “Going on a date with the winner of our latest contest…” He said uneasily, suddenly hyper-aware of the astonished looks on his siblings’ faces. 

“What?!” John Dory finally exploded. Taking a deep breath to force himself to calm down, he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Branch, for the love of everything trolly, please, tell me you didn’t treat Poppy like any other of our fans.”

Branch could confidently say he had not treated Poppy just like any other fan. “I…really didn’t.” Then, thinking back to her insistence that he tell his brothers her idea, he perked up. “Oh, she also had the greatest idea! She thinks we should totally perform during the village’s celebrations. And, you’d like to hear, JD,” he turned to his brother with a smirk, “she thinks we could be the main event at the Electric Foam Parade.”

And just like that, all the tension left their leader’s body. “Oh, thank frosting! I knew talking to Poppy about this was a good idea!”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Spruce sent him a pointed look. “It was her who came looking for you, not the other way around. And you almost dismissed her as just another fan asking for an autograph!”

“And, you forget it was per my suggestion she came looking for you at all.” Clay pointed out, matter-of-factly. “It’s all thanks to me we even have this opportunity.”

As their three older siblings bickered amongst themselves, it was Floyd who noticed the utter confusion on his baby brother’s face. Staring intently at his face, and taking special note of the way his eyes lit up at the mention of the pink troll, his eyes widened when he connected the dots. 

“Branch, is the girl you’ve fallen in love with Poppy?” He gasped. 

The moment Floyd’s question registered in their ears, all three oldest brothers halted their childish argument, turning to stare owlishly in astonishment at their baby brother. Silently asking for confirmation. 

His face turning a furious shade of lavender was all the answer they needed. 

And their cue to lose their collective minds. 

“Look at my baby bro! All grown up!” Spruce said proudly, wiping a fake tear off the corner of his eye. “And he has such great taste, too! A chip off the old block…”

“If you were his father!” Clay corrected. 

“Hey, I basically raised you three! I can say whatever I want!”

Meanwhile, John Dory kept muttering to himself. “This was supposed to be just a meeting…How did this happen? I mean, Poppy is obviously a keeper but I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it…”

“All I know”, Clay began, his voice carrying over the room and over his brothers’, “is that Viva’s going to be ecstatic to hear my little brother and his little sister might end up together.”

At that, Floyd left his spot on the couch to put a sympathetic hand on the yellow-haired troll’s shoulder. Knowing Viva and her boundless energy, Clay was in for a long couple of weeks, at the very least. 

“Wait, Viva?” Branch interrupted his siblings’ ramblings. “What does Viva and her sister have to do with anything?”

All four trolls exchanged a glance. “Um, Viva’s sister is Poppy?”

Branch made a psh! sound, incredulous. “That can’t be right. It can’t be my Poppy.” Ignoring the way his brothers cooed and teased him about referring to Poppy as his, he went on. “It’s gotta be some other troll.”

“I can very much assure you it’s not.” Clay insisted. “It’s the same Poppy.”

“C’mon, it’s gotta be a coincidence. Many trolls are named Poppy!”

“Do you know any?” This time, it was Floyd who spoke, gently encouraging him to realise what was truly going on. 

“But that’s impossible! Because if Poppy is Viva’s sister that means…that means…” He trailed off, his voice tapering off and his eyes widening as he finally connected the dots. 

Everything made so much sense now. 

Everyone’s shocked yet polite reactions at seeing them together wasn’t because of him, it was all her! The way she kept bringing up matters that only the Royal family had any power over, like deciding the groups that would perform at Pop Village’s most prestigious celebrations. John Dory was right; it was never meant to be a date, it was an important meeting! …which also explained his insistence on everything going perfectly tonight; there was way too much on the line. 

Not to mention, the way Poppy carried herself with an air of grace and elegance, yet had this aura that let you know she was perfectly approachable. No, scratch that. She was like a beacon of light, guiding and warming up your soul with a mere smile. Drawing you in like a moth to a flame. 

Floyd exchanged worried glances with his brothers when Branch froze up like a Swag Stag in headlights. Their concern only skyrocketed when their baby brother hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. 

Just as he was about to ask if he was okay, Branch threw his head back, his hands rubbing down his face. “I can’t believe I'm in love with the Pop Princess, of all people. Talk about a frosting cliché.”

“Hey, language.” John Dory admonished lightly. 

“If it’s any consolation, I mean it when I say you’ve got good taste.” Spruce tried to lighten up the mood. “I met her with JD, and she’s an absolute sweetheart.”

“Oh, a total keeper.” The eldest agreed. 

Just then, an impish smile made its way to the sensitive brother’s face. “You know, I haven’t really interacted with Poppy all that much,” Floyd admitted, “but I remember her face when JD told her she would have to meet up with you.”

Despite himself, Branch’s ear perked up at that, listening with interest.

Floyd smiled to himself. “She was ecstatic! Seriously, like a trolling on their quarter-half-birthday! So I wouldn’t be too surprised if it turned out the Pop Princess is also in love with you.”

As always, Floyd knew just what to say to make him feel better. His mind going back to the look of utter adoration on her face as he sang to her, Branch dared to believe, even if just for a moment, that Poppy could ever come to love him, too, and her admiration wasn’t based solely on her love for Brozone. 

Maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t made himself a complete fool in front of their princess. 

“You know, she’s actually the Queen, now.” Clay reminded them. “Her coronation happened a few weeks ago, but we couldn’t make it due to incompatible schedules.”

Branch could feel his eye twitch. 

“I boasted in front of the freaking Queen?!”

#trolls #trolls 3 #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls band together spoilers #tbt #trolls spoilers #Broppy #Brozone Never Disbanded AU #Trolls AU #Queen Poppy #Branch #Brozone #John Dory #Spruce #Bruce #Clay #Floyd #Viva #King Peppy #Brandy #Fluff #Humour #Fanfic #trolls fanfic #my fanfic

[moodymisty]

Hiya! Could I request some Magnus / GN! Reader shenanigans? Like the reader is trying to learn a spell (to impress Magnus), does it by "The books are just guidelines anyways", and it works. Then they go to show Magnus and confusion hell breaks loose Blease and thankyou <3<3<3

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Magnus time! I was actually working on something just like this, so this gave me the motivation to really spruce it up and finish it. But I really apologize because when I reread your request I realized I might've gone a bit less silly than you might've wanted. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationship: Magnus the Red/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None apart from this being my first time writing Magnus so please forgive me figuring him out I'm sorry if he feels off

Word Count: 1220

Sorcery is by it's very nature, finicky.

It has no solid answer, no yes or no. It's not as if it's a machine you can turn on or off, or a star you can see is alive or dead. It's an ebb and flow- something you feel.

But how do you feel something you've never felt before?

These tomes are largely nonsensical to you; The scribblings of madmen, words with no translation and sentences backwards.

You'd once again today attempted to make sense of it all, to tempt your better judgement that kept saying it maybe wasn't your most intelligent idea, but nothing has happened yet. So now you sit in bed, flicking through pages of tomes scattered across the blankets; Attempting to perhaps make enough sense of it and not bring anymore embarrassment to yourself than you already have.

In your fussiness you've already given yourself two different paper cuts, licking your wounds both physical and mental. You should probably be sleeping, the stars are out bright, and the wind gently raps against the windows as you study.

Magnus' tower is so ethereal, you look towards the window for a moment and see nothing but the midnight sky illuminating everything underneath it.

After thinking, you look back towards the oversized tome in your lap, lying on your thighs over top of a blanket. You'd picked many of the books not necessarily at random, but attempting to find the most basic of starting places from a collection that puts most others to shame. Magnus has many shelves up here, filled with his personal collection of tomes and scrolls. You sort've wish he was here to help guide you, but at the same time, you wish to surprise him to some degree.

You try just one more time, attempting to light a small ember in your palm. You follow every word exactly as the instructions- if you could call them that, and mange to hold it for only a few moments before it flickers away as if blown out by breath.

"Ugh!"

You drop your head, it coming quite close to hitting the pages of the tome.

"What is this?"

Your head suddenly whips upright, seeing Magnus himself standing in the doorway across the room. You don't know how you hadn't heard his footsteps, though you suppose you were far too distracted for your ears to prick to any other sound than what was right next to you.

Entering the room and closing the massive door behind him, Magnus takes in the scenery he's missed while aboard Photep, traveling the stars. After his quick glances he focuses on you cross legged in his bed, surrounded by opened and unopened books.

"Magnus!" He slowly walks closer to the beside, one finger brushes a tome he's clearly familiar with and opening it to a particular page; Glossing over it before he lets it gently fall back shut.

"Now, what are you concocting in that little mind of yours that requires so many spell tomes?"

Magnus watches amused as you close the book in your lap, legs cross underneath it and look at your slightly burned palm.

"I was trying to call fire. But it seems it's a bit harder than I thought." His smile fades a bit softer, watching your expression. The fabric of his robes is weaved with gold string that shines in the soft candle light.

"You seem to have had it, from what I saw."

You can feel his long red hair brush against your arm as he sits beside you, his massive height and weight difference forcing the appropriately massive bed to dip heavily to his side. It almost makes you roll, but you quickly adjust to prevent that. Now in your atmosphere it's a bit easier to look him in the eye, but you still have to crane your next a decent bit.

"I was following the tomes exactly like they said, and the best I can do is a little baby kindling. I'd have trouble even setting a letter alight."

You look up towards him, hands playing with the edges and filigree of the old, worn tome in your lap. Magnus speaks up, his tone curious and a bit surprised.

"Exactly?"

His eye glances down to the front cover of the tome in your hand, and recognizes that one instantly. With one hand, he gently reaches underneath the covers and gently clamps the tome shut, the top of his hand laying against your thighs before he pulls the tome towards his chest.

"Then you are taking it all far too literally." Perhaps the book shouldn't be written so literally then, you rebelliously think. He lays the tome aside, and uses the same hand to gently cup your jaw between his fingers and look up at him.

"it's far more of a feeling that anything, my love. If you keep just following the tomes, you might end up burning something down. Or as you've noticed, burning nothing at all." He lets out a laugh, feeling your cheeks move under his finger tips.

"I never thought you to be so studious in following directions. Perhaps you'd prefer Primarch Guilliman to myself?" You let out a harsh puff of air through your closed lips, making an insulting noise. Your hand grips his wrist and tries to pull it away, but to no avail, and instead you just grip the massive muscles of his arm and scowl.

"Funny."

He smiles wider. How you speak to him so casually now, compared to months ago. Perhaps his teasing makes it easier for you to forget who he is. He doesn't mind it.

A testament to your determination, you'd been able to cast something despite a lack of knowledge; But you could do well in having someone set you on the right path. Afterall, Magnus knows simply treating something with such an ebb and flow as sorcery as rules you can memorize will never bear any fruit.

Magnus can guide you, and truthfully, he would love for nothing more than to.

His sons don't need to be taught. They learn from his actions, and most are more than capable of progressing on their own and honing their own skills. To be able to teach his beloved something that is such a core part of himself, to guide your hand and your mind to touch something greater- he finds himself almost, dare he say excited.

He's rough on his sons, he knows they can take it. That they're built for sorceries and touching the warp. But with you he'll have to be gentle. The thought of it, to sit with you and show you wondrous things that your home planet kept from your eyes, he would start right now if not for one thing.

Magnus lets go of your jaw. He leans down and gently brushes a kiss against your temple, his fire red hair brushing against your skin again.

"Now, as much as I don't wish to part you from your reading, I have returned from Terra at my absolute wits end and desiring some rest." He smiles and vaguely gestures to the mess you've made of his bed during his absence. He can see other little messes throughout his chambers, as well.

"So my love, perhaps you could move your research, off the bed?"

#magnus the red x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[trinketfairy]

[Image ID: A colourful baby dragon plush activity toy on a bench /End ID]

Hi everyone, I'm now on a mission to reunite this little dragon with his family

I found him earlier today at the park and took a picture to show my friends on my locked Twitter account, but initially left it behind because I wasn't sure if his family was going to come and pick him up.

But when I got home, I realized that it was going to rain overnight, so I decided that I'd get back on my scooter after having my dinner and take another drive over to see if he was still there.

Luckily, he was, so I carried him home in my basket.

[Image ID: The colourful plush dragon activity toy sitting in the basket of a mobility scooter /end ID]

This is where things stand now in the story, but I'm contacting some local Facebook groups in the hopes that someone will claim him and he can go to his rightful owners.

He doesn't look dirty, but I might give him a gentle bath just to spruce him up a bit.

For now, though, he's in my possession, safe and sound, and waiting for whoever will come and pick him up.

[Image ID: The dragon activity toy sitting on the leather chair of the mobility scooter /end ID]

#Long post sorreyyyy but it helps the narrative of the story I'm telling here #plushies #plushie #plushblr #toys #toyblr #toywave #stuffie #stuffies #stuffed animal #stuffed animals #my photos

[givemetherapyimawritingtravesty]

For @goodboylupin 's RS Candy Hearts (nearly a year late 🙃 but will I ever forget about it? Maybe never ...)

Maybe Never - Three Times Sirius Won’t Shut Up About His Husband, and One Time Remus Won’t

(1)

“You know, MY husband is an author. Writes all kinds of things. See, he started in journalism and then made his way to publishing. These days, MY husband writes high fantasy instead of hard hitting journalism. Though in my opinion it’s still ‘hard-hitting’…” Sirius trails off with a smirk and a nudge to Remus, who is standing beside him, hands in his pockets.

Remus blushes, leaning in to grumble, “Really? Must you talk about me at every opportunity? I thought you wanted to get in and out of this benefit your brother’s hosting. You hate these things.”

“I do. But I love talking about MY husband. All accomplished, supporting me and my art.”

“Like you don’t make well enough money selling under your family name anyway. Will you ever tire of talking about me?”

Sirius hummed, “Maybe Never.”

((2))

Another Sunday brunch with Remus’ parents, another meal sitting back and watching Sirius drone on about him. Remus has already finished eating is sitting with his arms crossed, leaning against the back of his chair and occasionally sipping his tea.

“See, MY husband just submitted his newest work to his editor and so MY husband is taking us on a little vacation to London to celebrate while he waits for edits and feedback. Not that there’ll be much that needs editing, MY—“

“Yes, dear, Your husband. Our son, must you refer to him like that every time, he has a name that we gave him,” Hopes says with a teasing smile. Truthfully she finds it endearing more than anything, but she has to call her son-in-law out on it anyway.

“Yes, I must,” Sirius says matter of factly.

Remus scoffs, “Don’t you think you’ll get sick of it?”

“Maybe Never, so get used to it.”

(((3)))

“So anyway, MY husband loves this recipe. MY husband says it’s the only good think my parents ever gave us, besides me and my brother of course.”

“Sirius, who are you— oh. Hi, instagram,” Remuss says as he sees the phone propped up against a bag of flour.

“Here he is now, MY husband. Say hi everyone.”

The comments flood with greetings as Sirius continues on baking away. Remus walks up to him for a brief kiss.

“Will you ever even consider stopping referring to me so formally?”

Sirius smiles ear to ear, “Maybe Never.”

(+1)

Remus stands beside Sirius at the art gallery opening, glass of champagne in hand and smiling politely at whoever comes by to talk to Sirius about his art. Currently, some gentleman is talking about considering buying some art for his office, something about sprucing up the family practice.

“Well,” Remus interjects during a brief lull in the conversation, “MY husband, I’m sure, would also be more than happy to do some commission pieces for you too, if there is a theme you have or if you wanted something relating to… teeth? Dentistry, correct?”

“Yes, yes, that’s correct. You think that would be something he— you could do?” The man looks from Remus to Sirius.

“Absolutely, MY husband loves the opportunity to create things especially for patrons. I’ll take a business card if you have one and have MY husband reach out later this week.”

“Yes, I will contact you and we can discuss what you might have in mind for the pieces,” Sirius says, extending a hand to shake before turning to Remus as the man wanders away. “Really? MY husband?”

“How’s it feel?” Remus asks with a smirk.

“Will you ever not tease me? I just like calling you mine.”

“Will I? Maybe Never,” Remus whispers as he leans in for a kiss.

#rscandyhearts #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #in my defense my account got deleted and it took actual MONTHS to get it back and i lost the draft but then i re wrote by hand and ta da #maybe never #thank you again for doing this fest it was one of my first ever and still love it its so cute

[coffeeistired]

Goverment Spies

Prompt: what if Floyd and Branch had asked Clay about their parents??

Clay sat leaned against the troll tree,the older trolls- Spruce, JD, and Grandma were arguing again, and…well, even though he was sure Spruce was right like he often was(Clay has favorites), he decided to not side with the purple haired brother and instead took the younger siblings out, and now he was stuck, watching his siblings half heartedly as he held a lollipop in his mouth, taking it out with a loud pop as he felt a tug on his jacket, he glanced to the side, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up dawg- dawgs??” Clay asked with an upwards nod, adjusting to sit up, raising an eyebrow at his two younger siblings who stared up at him with hopeful eyes.

“What were mommy and daddy like?” The youngest- Branch asked hopefully, excitement filling his baby blue eyes, Clay nearly choked on his salvia.

He didn’t know much about their parents, he’d seen them once or twice, before Floyd was even born, at this point, that memory is the most vivid of any memory the troll had, he never wanted to forget it. He could remember their faces clear as day- the sweet sounds of their voices…like honey and sugar- or whatever the saying was, He didn’t know it.

.

.

.

He was so scared to talk to them that night. He glanced to the side with a forced chuckle before standing up, brushing himself off.

“Wellllll….I can’t tell ya! It’s a secret.” He winked, pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key.

“Awhhh c’mon! Pleaseeee!” Floyd begged, giving the yellow haired troll puppy eyes, Bitty B joining him.

“Plleeeaseeee!”

“I dunnooo…they’d be pretty mad if I told you they were secretly spies.” Clay said with a shrug.

The two younger trolls loudly gasped. “Mom and Dad are spies?!”

Clay gasped, putting a hand on his heart in mock shock. “Who told you that?! It was supposed to be a secret!”

“You did!”

“I did?”

“Yeah!”

“What did I do?”

Floyd laughed and playfully pushed the taller troll.

“Alright, Alright fine, but you can’t tell Grandma I said anything or else!”

“Or else what?”

“Or else….JD’ll make us sing another love song!”

He fake gagged, despite the fact that practically all of Brozone’s songs could be counted as a love song.

“But all our songs are love songs….”

“Exactly! Unoriginalitiy! The scariest thing of them all!” Clay slid down against the tree dramatically, playing dead.

“Oh no! John Dory killed him!”

“Nooooo!” Branch hugged Clay tightly, a loud pop coming from the other troll’s back, which to be fair, is what always happened (he should get that checked out).

Just then he heard a worried voice calling for them- in order from youngest to oldest, Bitty B, Floyd, Clay. Clay opened an eye, peering over to where he heard their names being called, the younger trolls had not seemed to notice the voices quite yet, but they had noticed that Clay was in fact very alive(which, of course was obvious with his breath- the rising and falling of his chest.) Clay sat up, hugging Bitt B back with one arm, Floyd joining in with the other two trolls, Clay wrapped his free arm around the other troll.

He heard the voice call again, closer this time, Clay could recognize the voice now- Spruce, the younger trolls recognized the worried call of the second oldest brother, well, Floyd did, he looked up, his ears perked. “SPRUCE?” He called back only to receive an excited ‘FLOYD’ in reply as the purple haired troll dashed over from the distance, a worried look on his face as he slid down to be with the trio, kneeling down, hugging them all tightly, another pop coming from Clay’s back.

After a while of waiting Spruce let go, worry still filling his expression. “I was SO worried-“

The rest sounded like rambling to Clay, he just rolled his eyes, fiddling with his sweatband as Floyd tried to apologize, Bitty B’s expression filled with confusion as Spruce picked him up, geasturing for Floyd and Clay to follow as he started to walk back to the pop.

….

“Grandmmaaa…are mommy and daddy spies?”

“Say WHAT NOW-“

Shit.

#trolls band together #trolls #fluff #trolls floyd #clay trolls #trolls spruce #trolls branch #oneshot #clay and Bruce are besties please

[ronearoundblindly]

I Know You (Ari x Reader)

So I wrote a best-friends-to-lovers drabble with Ari and Reader working on renovating Reader's new house for @jamneuromain. Then I got a comment from @werkinretrograde asking if/how Reader didn't notice any signals from Ari and that got me thinking...and typing apparently. This is some background to their dynamic. Did this pretty fast, too, so all mistakes are mine.

No warnings just fluff that's not overly romantic, but y'all got chemistry and history. WC 1781 (see previous or Bedrock and Blueprint series)

Summary: How Ari convinced you to buy a house.

“You have been working at that place for seven years,” Ari hisses while you stand in a quiet corner of yet another property for sale. “I think that’s secure enough to invest in something for your future.”

“My future? Ari, you only got out of…” you glance over your shoulder when his eyes bug out “…you know a few months ago. You work for a friend in construction—off the books, I might add—half the week. You’re hardly an expert on buildings yet.”

“So you won’t even consider putting in an offer?”

“It’s too much,” you squeal as quietly as possible.

Ari crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Then you need something cheap that you can spruce up over time.”

“No, I need to save more so when I’m ready—“

He unclenches to grab your shoulders. “Okay. Okay. It was just a thought. I knew you’d like the look of this place.”

You push away his hands to—politely—storm out the front door. Next time Ari drives home from a site, he should ignore any real estate signs, especially the ones that say ‘OPEN HOUSE.’

He follows you out to the front lawn, calling your name until your feet hit the pavement. You’re mad, but it’s not like you can walk all the way home from here. He’s still your ride.

You’re still pissed though. Your best friend has woefully misjudged the situation.

“It’s just a house, kid,” Ari huffs, running a hand through his hair as he plants himself on the sidewalk next to you. Typical for him to use your original nickname as a weapon. Man just loves to rub in that he’s older than you. He has for the last decade. He shoves aside his open flannel to rest his hands on his hips, and you just know it’s in mock-dismissal of the mess he caused.

“Not to me,” you breathe, turning around to look one more time.

He ticks his head in confusion.

“When you called last night, I got so excited. I let myself get all these ideas and hopes and—“ you flip an arm up at the tragic sight before you “—you took me to my dream house that I now know I can’t have.”

Your heart sinks into your twisting gut.

There was this awful sliver of hope on the phone last night. Ari doesn’t really do future planning; he doesn’t take ‘next steps.’ Yet he called with this lightness to his voice that made you think, just for a second…

You don’t know what you thought, but the hope is sure as shit gone now.

You lace your fingers up behind your head and sigh. Just for a second there, it was a nice dream.

“Can you just take me home?”

Ari cocks a half smile and nods, fishing the keys to his truck out of his jeans.

It’s a long nine minute drive to your apartment. With the windows down, at least it’s not totally silent, but once he rips ignition back and the engine’s off, he bursts.

“I’m sorry. Alright. Are you happy now? I’m sorry.”

“Do not yell at me, Ar—“

“I’m not yelling at you.” He turns around as best he can on the car’s seat.

“That is the definition of what you are doing,” you yell back.

Ari puts up his hands, running his tongue over his bottom lip while he thinks of how to phrase his frustration.

“Fine. Just—“ he relaxes an arm across the steering wheel, tapping an imaginary melody “—for the record,” he says slowly, “I really thought it was perfect for you.”

You remain curled up and guarded on your half of the flat seat.

“Ari, I am a single woman. I don’t know if I’m gonna need all those rooms and that space. It might not happen.” You can tell by the shifting in your periphery that he wants to object, but you pin him with a look. “I refuse to flush all that money down the drain to live in a great big empty thing all alone.”

He shifts on the worn, tan leather. “Kid, you won’t be alone forever.”

“Old man,” you retort, watching his lips purse—yeah, sucks to bring back the first nicknames now, doesn’t it?—and jaw tighten, “I have been available more than I’ve been taken in the last decade, and following that logic, I don’t like my odds.”

Your exhale practically whistles through your nostrils you’re so mad.

It’s not like this topic doesn’t come up. You tell each other everything—sometimes too much—so talking about dating and its drawbacks is a regular staple of conversation, usually over alcohol. For whatever reason, this has struck a nerve in you.

Lamenting weird setups and shitty hookups is one thing, flaunting the life you may never have is another.

“Still,” he adds with defiance, “you won’t be alone forever.”

You do not want to talk about this anymore. You wrench open the creaky old door and slam it shut with the window still down.

“And you—“ you poke a finger back inside “—you owe me beer and pizza for this.

A smile blooms over Ari’s face, shock white in a thick brush of brown beard.

“Yes, dear.” He raises his eyebrows and leans his head down, holding your gaze through his long lashes. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

You flash him a middle finger on your way to the building.

A week later, Ari’s reclining upside down on your couch with a guilty look on his face. It’s your day off, and he’ll use any excuse to get out of his absolute dumpster of an apartment. He manages to be there so little though, it hardly matters. He’ll work construction, go out with friends and coworkers, old buddies from the old days that he doesn’t talk about with anyone else, and then he spends pretty much all the rest of his time that he’s not sleeping with you—that is, if he’s not dating someone.

“Don’t be mad,” he starts.

What else could you possibly be when someone starts a talk like that?

“I think I found another place you’ll like.”

“Sweet mother of—argh,” you growl, “leave it alone, Ari.”

“Hear me out.” He flips himself upright on the well-worn cushions. “I heard you—“

“Did you though? Seems like you didn’t.”

“I listened to what you wanted, and I—“

“Stop, Ari.”

He stands up with open arms, that smug, puppy dog look on his face. “Just let me show it to you, and then I promise I’ll shut up about it.”

You stride forward with a finger out, poking his chest when you get in his face. “You just want a free crash pad out of this, don’t you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

Eyes narrow and searching, you try to read his expression. This isn’t the same excitement he showed for the other house. This is different somehow, and you can’t even tell if it’s a good different.

“Tell you what.” Ari gently grabs your hand and spreads your palm over his heart. There’s no beat to feel through his cotton t-shirt and thick muscle. “You let me show you this one place, and I will go to that one chick bar you love as many times as you like.”

You slap his chest.

“It’s not a chick bar just because they have clean floors.”

“They have only two—“ two fingers shoot up as a visual “—beers on tap.”

“And a good selection of—“

“Deal or no deal?” he booms, eyes wide and questioning now.

Damn it. That bar has way better food than the dumps Ari likes to frequent. You don’t even have to buy the place; he simply said you have to see it.

“Ughhh,” you grumble one last time, “deal.”

Ari is so excited he takes your face in his hands and kisses your forehead, heading straight for the door.

“What? Now?”

“Yeah,” he nods, biting his lip, “‘cause then we gotta get your groceries, remember? Day off.”

This man runs your life, you swear. It’s annoying.

“It’s a dump.”

“It has a lot of potential,” Ari counters.

You can play the semantics game, too. “It has a lot of potential health code violations.”

He dramatically frowns.

“Okay, look—“ Ari wraps his arm around your side and makes a show of displaying his vision for the place “—there are enough rooms for a family, but not so many that you can’t use them otherwise. You get more bang for your buck because it’s not all this new, fancy, custom stuff—“

“—because it’s a dump—“

“—and you have a best friend in construction to do most of the repairs on the cheap.”

You huff in trepidation.

“A best friend who loves you,” Ari coos, “who only wants the best for you, who knows you hoped to own a home years ago but you keep putting it off.”

“For good reason,” you snap.

He rubs up and down your arms soothingly. “They were good reasons five years ago. Now, you’re just scared.”

He waits, watching you mull over the options and make quick calculations in your head. A bit of protest almost passes your lips before he can cut in.

“It's a fixer-upper, but I'll help,” Ari rushes.

So your mouth shuts again. You walk around the good bones and shitty skin of your potential new place while he follows eagerly behind, rattling off the things he can do and how quickly he can do them.

You purposefully stop so fast that he runs into your pointed elbow. 

He doesn’t step away, a determined stare assessing your features. 

What you should do is chastise him for focusing on your life goals while always ignoring his own. You’re scared? This guy’s been globetrotting and couch surfing just to stay out of the way of normal responsibility…but he’s right.

One more sigh escapes you.

“You’re a hypocrite.”

“Yes,” Ari admits with zero hesitation, “your very best hypocrite friend.” Then he steps up close with that soft little smile, the one that only momentarily crinkles above his cheeks.

“Buy this one, please, kid.” He holds your chin up between his thumb and forefinger. “You know you want to.”

Why do best friends have to know each other so well? It’s really irritating when one wants to prove the other wrong. You see the logic. You see the opportunity. You see Ari’s vision.

You’re also damn sure you’re gonna see him work his ass off to make this place your home. The thought alone brings a devious curl to your lips.

“Get ready to go to that chick bar, old man. We’ve got something to celebrate.”

Hope you enjoyed some banter with best friend!Ari, and again, you can read the steamy conclusion to moving in here.

You can find more on my Masterlist.

#ari levinson fanfiction #ari levison x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson fluff #bedrock and blueprints #series

[carry-on-my-wayward-gays]

The winner of this poll; a little ficlet I like to call "It Will Come Back". Based off the Hozier song of the same name :) hope it lives up to your expectations!

It Will Come Back

Tango scrubs his face with dirty hands, groaning tiredly.

Glittering redstone stains his clothes and skin. Stone and ore dust floats in the air and clings to the fur on his dungeon master's cloak, his eyelashes, and builds up under his fingernails.

He's exhausted and he feels like taking seventeen showers back to back. He also feels like a drink, and maybe a minute to sit and relax before he goes through the motions of getting ready for bed.

Tango thinks of grabbing a drink from the Gobland tavern and heading to the place fWhip set aside for him. It's closer. He wouldn't have to go far and he can just get back to work first thing in the morning.

And he almost gets up and starts heading there when he remembers the ranch. And Tumble Town. Tumble Town has a saloon, and the Sheriff says it's always open late. It's late.

Tango reaches for his chest, for the necklace with a single golden feather as a pendant. He doesn't feel it and for a moment he panics that he's lost it somewhere in the cave before a memory of tucking it under his cloak surfaces. He sighs and pulls it out, examining the feather.

It's fraying. Tango doesn't take as good care of it as he should. But he likes to think the wear and tear shows something is loved. And he loves his necklace.

Tango stands up and puts all his spare supplies in a shulker for tomorrow. He knows he'll be back to work on his project by then, so no use in officially putting everything into the storage system yet.

He tiredly fastens his elytra on and takes off, narrowly avoiding everything in his way. Tango wasn't particularly used to flying in crowded spaces.

The fresh night air of the mountains reminds him briefly of home. There's not the smell of decaying spruce or burning soul sand in the air, but it's cold and crisp. It burns his cheeks as he zooms up and away to the place he calls his homestead.

Like Jimmy told him, the Saloon is open. And lively. He can hear music and people chattering away just from outside the building.

Sound hits him like a sack of bricks as soon as he's inside. After he recollects his tired mind his eyes scan the crowds for a certain blond. And he spots him being pushed towards the saloon stage.

Tango's intrigued now. He heads over to the bar and orders himself something strong, not caring about the taste. All the while his eyes are watching as the Sheriff - Jimmy - talks to the band.

He's already at the mic when Tango gets his drink. Something bitter smelling in a copper cup.

Jimmy seems to catch sight of his favorite netherborn. His face as well as his eyes light up with a delighted and fond grin, though he doesn't call Tango out. He simply picks up a guitar and stands close to the mic.

Tango didn't know he played.

"Th's is a song fer a cert'n s'meone at the bar." Jimmy smiles teasingly into the mic. Tango would burst out laughing at the drunken southern accent - something Jimmy would not normally have - if it wasn't for the way the blond spoke into the mic and winked at him.

Tango didn't know Jimmy sang.

Jimmy starts plucking at guitar strings. Low and ominous, slow paced. The crowd cheers and whistles. Tango ignores the chills creating goosebumps on his arms and sips his drink. It tastes awful.

Drums pitch in after a few seconds. Even slower than the guitar, but still as low.

Tango swallows thickly and grips his copper cup.

"You know better, babe, you know better, babe." Jimmy sings. It's low and rumbly. Tango has never heard Jimmy's voice like that before, and it makes his whole body heat up.

The echo of the mic doesn't help either.

"Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul." Brown eyes shine mischievously in Tango's direction. "Honey, make this easy." The way Jimmy sings "honey" makes it sound like a whine. It's becoming insanely unfair to Tango that he's all the way over at the bar.

"Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it. Honey, don't feed it, it will come back." The instruments stop for a second isolating Jimmy's voice. Tango visibly shudders and takes a big gulp of his drink.

It burns as it goes down.

"You know better, babe, you know better, babe." Jimmy doesn't take his eyes off Tango. The netherborn feels a hole being burned right through him the longer his soulmate is staring. It's Jimmy shaped and it aches.

"I'm something else when I see you. You don't understand, you should never know," Jimmy licks his dry lips. Tango pretends not to notice, but his face turning another shade of red gives him away.

"How easy you are to need." Jimmy's voice gets softer and quieter. It'd sound embarrassed if the blond wasn't up on stage clearly enjoying watching Tango's reaction.

Tango calls for another drink. He misses how the bartender quirks a questioning eyebrow at him but picks up his copper cup and begins filling it again.

"Honey, don't feed me, I will come back." Jimmy winks and Tango hides behind his palm.

He uses the instrumental break to get his heartbeat somewhat steady. He feels the bartender slide the cup to him and it rests coldly on his arm.

He's starting to get warm under his cloak.

Jimmy takes a breath in and Tango's head snaps up to watch. And listen.

"It can't be unlearned, I've known the warmth of your doorways." Jimmy mumbles, almost kissing the microphone. His hat casts a shadow over his face and makes him look even more alluring.

"Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you." There's a certain drawl to his voice. Maybe it's the result of a few drinks, maybe it's spurred by the vibe of the song, maybe it's just Tango, or maybe it's just Jimmy.

But it all still makes Tango bite his lip and clutch his drink.

The drums kick up loudly, "Oh, please, give me mercy no more." Jimmy barks. It makes Tango stiffen with surprise. "That's a kindness you can't afford."

Tango watches Jimmy's grip on his guitar tighten. He sees a different glint cloud Jimmy's eyes. It feels possessive, hungry.

It sends a chill up Tango's spine.

"I warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born," Jimmy's voice is gravelly to start. Dark and gutteral, but lifts and tapers off. Tango waits for the gut punch.

"You'll hear me howling outside your door."

Jimmy sings it through clenched teeth. No, actually, he didn't sing it. The lyric was growled into the mic. It was growled, so raw and deep, Tango had to put his cup down on the bar otherwise his shaky hands would have dropped it.

He huffs, seemingly having lost his breath. His face is burning hotter than the soul fire atop his head. Speaking of, flames had spread down the back of his neck and over his shoulders. Tiny flames licked down to almost his elbows. He hopes he's not scorched anything.

"Don't you hear me howling, babe?" Jimmy's grinning again. The damned Brit knows what he's doing. He has full view of how Tango is reacting. And it's all gone according to plan based on how Jimmy's grinning with all his pearly white teeth showing.

Tango takes a few gulps of his drink and presses his scalding face against the cold copper. The drink never stopped burning and numbing his tongue as it went down.

Eventually the song ends and the crowd roars with applause. People whistle and beg for an encore but the moment Jimmy sets the guitar down everyone settles down - Tango is so glad he doesn't do another song.

But at the same time he's not ready when Jimmy starts striding over to Tango. Spurs jingling with every step. Tango wishes he could hide in his cloak and disappear.

"Howdy, stranger." Jimmy greets. He's got a shit-eating grin and an even more smug tone to his voice.

Tango can't help but smile at his soulmate over his copper cup. "Evening, Sheriff."

"Did'ya enjoy the performance?" Jimmy sits on the stool next to Tango, leaning in unnecessarily close to the netherborn.

"You could say that," Tango sets his drink on the bar. "But I think I got too distracted by the look you were giving me."

Tango doesn't miss the dusting of dark pink that graces Jimmy's cheeks. A nice rosy color.

"That so..?" Jimmy mumbles. He suddenly leans in close and raises a hand to hold Tango's face. "How'd you get so dirty, firecracker?"

Tango blinks. The change in conversation sets his brain back and momentarily stuns him into silence. And while Tango sorts his head out Jimmy is trying to wipe a stubborn spot of redstone stains off his cheek.

"Uh, n-nothing, Sheriff. Just a bit of a big project, ya know." Tango laughs and tries not to show how flustered he is.

He pushes Jimmy's hand down gently. "I was just stopping by for a quick drink, then I was heading home." He explains.

"Well then, whaddya say about getting out of here? I can walk you home." Jimmy purrs. Tango wonders how much he's had to drink, but doesn't press for answers. They're both a little intoxicated.

"I'm sure you'll get to do more than that, pretty boy." Tango playfully sticks his tongue out past sharp teeth and slips down from his stool. Jimmy follows at his heels out the saloon doors and into the cold mesa night.

The second they're just past the saloon, Jimmy is pulling Tango close and into a slow kiss. It's something they both need especially after that little performance. And despite how slowly the kiss moves, it's packed full of every emotion and want that was charging the saloon air.

"Aether above," Tango laughs as they part. Jimmy chuckles too, Tango can feel the vibrations in his chest.

"It's getting late, love. We should get you home." Jimmy speaks softly. It's full of nothing but love and it makes Tango want to melt into Jimmy.

"Sounds like a plan. I have a farm to complete tomorrow." Tango links his arm with Jimmy's and leans his head on the blond's bicep.

Jimmy adopts that smug grin again. "And then you're all mine?"

Tango rolls his eyes. "I've always been all yours, birdie."

And if on their way to the ranch they stumble a little and pull each other behind buildings and trees and into alleyways for a few kisses, then that's their business. And no one needs to know the Sheriff's personals.

-

Shout-out to my bestie @roxie-roo for putting this idea in my brain thanks bestie it has never left <3

#I got like 58% more gay writing this #team rancher #rancher duo #solidaritek #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #tangotek #tango tek #empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #empiresshipping #empires x hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #cw alcohol #good LORD I am down bad #shadow's scribing again

[kittyball23]

Playing the Part (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Now that the brothers have come together, it’s time to rehearse once again, but are they ready to get back to the groove of things?

__________________________________________

At this rate, Poppy was going to get a bruise on her arm from how many times she had been pinching it.

The way she saw it, she had to. This moment was unreal to her, and she wanted to be extra sure that she wasn’t stuck in another perfect dream. She’d had plenty of dreams like this before, where she was there, a young tween girl, frolicking around with the five cute boys that made up her favorite band. But each time she pinched herself, she would not wake up in her bed in a swoon. She would still be standing there, tingling with joy, because nearly all five of the boys that she’d dreamed about were actually right there… just a few paces away!

Holy cupcakes and sprinkles… Poppy thought, as it hit her once again. BroZone is actually here!!!

She couldn’t believe that her dream really was true! Well, at least somewhat true. For one, the boys did not resemble the way they looked in her dream. There was a good twenty-year age gap between the boys she saw in her dream, and the men that stood before her now, taller and older. Age wasn’t the only difference, though. So was appearance.

John Dory still very distinctly wore his shades right above his head, though the rims of the goggles were a light green instead of orange. And while he still had a vest, it was a snow coat instead of the hair-matching turquoise one he was known to have on.

Spruce, the second eldest, also had a vest, though it was black and white, and decorated with a flowery pattern that perfectly gave off that island-vibe, a good thing, too, since Vacay Island was indeed his home! His purple hair had been smoothed down to a flowing, surfer-ish mane that extended well past his shoulders and blew elegantly in the wind.

Clay was nearly unrecognizable when she’d first seen him. He’d thinned out and grown tall, and had a mop of wild, unruly lime-green hair instead of the old yellow that he’d had when he was a teen. To top it off, he’d ditched the vest look entirely and traded it in for a style that consisted of a glittery green cardigan sweater, and wristbands to match.

And then, of course, there was Branch – “Bitty B” – the ‘baby’ of the group, who was certainly no baby anymore! Her boyfriend had come along on the journey in his usual outfit of choice, the leaf green vest and brown patchwork shorts. His blue was not as vibrant as it had been when he was little, but it was still there, looking as handsome as ever, and he was still a teensy bit short compared to the other brothers (though she wouldn’t point that detail out to him).

The only one missing from the squad was Floyd, the second youngest BroZone brother, who much to her dismay, had been unjustly captured. She had to wonder what he looked like now, since everybody else looked different. Regardless, she couldn’t wait to meet him! But, there was only one itsy bitsy problem that was keeping her from meeting him – and that was the obvious fact that he was captured, by some strange creatures from the sound of it. The way that John Dory had described them, they were tall and limby, green-haired with pale skin and eyes that looked too large for their faces.

Poppy creased her eyebrows in worry. It was obvious to her that not everybody was friendly, despite her desire to believe it was true. I mean not all Trolls were friendly, she reminded herself. Barb wasn’t at first… She recalled the World Tour and how one of her now closest friends had behaved at first. In the back of her mind, she was hoping that the pair of siblings who had captured Floyd would be able to change for the better, too. But, for the time being, it was going to be a battle of the bands, with the ultimate goal of achieving the most perfect Family Harmony in order to free Floyd from capture. The Family Harmony, of course, had to be accomplished with harmony among the family, as the name suggested, which was something that had to be worked on. Given that the band had broken up from an explosive argument, it was obvious that there perhaps was a significant lack of harmony.

But not to worry! Poppy thought to herself. That’s why they’re here – they’re going to perfect the harmony, get back into the groove of things like they were when they were at the top of their career, and then become best friends again!! Poppy could hardly wait to see it happen!

Her eyes flitted over to the boys, who were taking a few warm-up stretches to prepare for the routine. She had to stifle a laugh watching John Dory, trying to reach down to touch his toes but hardly able to even get his arms past his knees before he was giving up with exhaustion. Spruce fared no better, but instead of embarrassing himself with trying like JD did, he did a couple of simple yoga-like poses, extending his arms out and trying not to look silly doing so. Clay, on the other hand, looked like he was quite in his element. Alongside being known as ‘The Fun One’ of the group, Poppy remembered hearing how he was their unofficial choreographer. It was no wonder his stretches looked the most natural and practiced, like he knew what he was doing as he held a split and stretched his arms down toward the end of one long leg. Branch was also a bit athletic, too, his Bergen-survivalist past making him able to pull off a few stretches with ease. But still, by the look on his face, she could tell he was feeling a bit awkward about it. In fact, now that she took a look, they all looked a bit awkward, like they weren’t really sure about this, and definitely not sure if they would be able to flow together in the same way they used to.

Well, even if they don’t believe they can, I believe it! Poppy thought.

Suddenly, JD cleared his throat, swallowing with a bit of uncertainty. “Okay, then,” he said, naturally taking charge, “I guess we better get to it!”

“I guess,” Spruce mumbled, getting ready. Clay cracked his knuckles and Branch stood a notable few steps away from them, with his arms crossed.

“Wait a second, what song are we doing?” Clay asked, not sure what position to put himself in.

“Err… good question!” JD said, thinking. “I mean, we could always do ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’, right?” he suggested.

“Save that one for one of the songs at the big showdown,” Spruce said, putting a hand up. “How about something easier?”

“Easier, like what?” JD asked.

“Hmm… how about ‘Sailing’? That one had a lot of simple dance steps,” Clay piped up, believing that perhaps something a bit more basic would be good to start with, for the sake of having them rediscover their rhythm with one another again.

Luckily, John Dory saw the logic behind it, too, and he beamed. “Alright, sounds good!” Just to be sure, he peered over at Spruce and Branch.

Spruce gave him a thumbs up, while Branch simply got into position, and gave a nod to show that he was ready. Each of the brothers arranged themselves, ready to give it a go.

Sure enough, they began to harmonize, jumping right into the middle verses of the song.

“It's not far to Never Never Land

No reason to pretend

And if the wind is right you can find the joy

Of innocence again

Oh, the canvas can do miracles

Just you wait and see

Baby believe me, oh

Sailing (takes me away)

Takes me away

To where I've always heard it could be

(I heard it could be)

Just a dream and a wind to carry me

(Soon I will be free)

Soon I will be free, yeah…”

Poppy gushed. They sounded amazing! But, unfortunately, it seemed that despite their vocals being quite on point, things were not looking so pristine in the choreography department. The brothers faltered, either stepping too fast or too slow in comparison to each other, and therefore making themselves stumble more than once. The four finally put a halt in the production after one too many missteps.

“All right, look, I think I know what the issue is,” John Dory said. “We’re not getting the timing right because we need a fifth brother. We need Floyd.”

“Yeah, well, news flash, genius, Floyd’s kinda indisposed right now,” Branch pointed out, crossing his arms.

“So! We still need someone else,” JD retorted, a little embarrassed.

Poppy perked up. Wait. They need someone else. I mean, I’M somebody else, aren’t I?? She remembered how well she had flowed with John Dory, Spruce, and Branch when they had sang just for fun on Vacay Island. But they were just being nice to me, Poppy thought. Would they let her join in now? Before Poppy could help herself, she suddenly stepped up, wringing her palms nervously together and offering a tentative smile. “Would you settle for a sister?”

The boys looked at each other, indecisive for a brief second. But then it disappeared a moment later. The way that John Dory, Spruce, and Clay saw it, BroZone had been more of a ‘no girls allowed,’ even though the rule was never officially written on paper. But seeing the situation that they were in, the fact that this was the Queen of Pop making this request, the glare that Branch was giving them, and that it was a silly rule overall, they gave in.

“Yeah, sure… why not!” John Dory replied chirpily, waving her over.

Poppy gasped, unable to believe it. This was like a dream come true. Meeting BroZone (or at least most of them), and then being able to actually rehearse with them? She could burst with happiness! The pink Pop queen squealed in delight and scurried over to the brothers, more than ready to join in the choreography. But before she could take her place next to them, John Dory put a hand up to stop her.

“Hold on a second, girly,” he said, “If you’re gonna sing and dance with us, you’re gonna need to look the part. In fact, we all need to!” He reached into his hair, and pulled out some items that made everybody gasp once they recognized what they were.

“Whoa! Wait a minute… is that what I think it is?” Clay asked, his blue eyes wide.

“You bet your cardigan it is!” JD replied, tossing him a couple of the items. Clay caught it and his jaw dropped. Because right there in his hands was a very familiar little yellow vest and white slacks – his performing outfit from when he was a teen!

“No way!” he breathed.

A similar reaction arose from Spruce at the sight of his purple vest and white slacks. “Oh, wow…” he said, sizing up the vest, and not quite remembering it to be that little. All of them had certainly grown since then!

“Oh, Braaanch,” John Dory cooed, “lookie what I got for you!” John Dory held up his old pair of shades, the white rimmed glasses with the slight pink tinted lens… as well as a diaper!

Branch gave him a murderous look. “I am NOT going to wear that!” he growled.

“Oh, come on, don’t throw shade on the shades!” JD said, observing the white-rimmed glasses. “These used to me mine, you know.”

“You know I’m not talking about that!” Branch said.

“Oh, what, the diaper? Come on, how else are we gonna be BroZone without our cute youngest little bro, Bitty B?” JD tried reasoning, teasing Branch with his childhood nickname and pinching his cheek.

Branch took a deep breath, calming himself. If an argument broke out now, among any of them, that would be the end of everything they were trying to work towards. The last time an argument happened, he didn’t have to remind himself how that ended. I’m doing this for Floyd. We’re doing this for Floyd, Branch reminded himself. Everyone’s in good spirits now. Let’s keep it that way. And if this is the way that we’re going to accomplish the Family Harmony… well, then…

Branch snatched the diaper from John Dory’s hands. “Okay, fine!” he said. “Whatever. I’ll do it.”

“That’s a good boy!” John Dory teased, and then playfully punched his brother on the shoulder.

“I really can’t believe you kept this!” Clay said, still looking over the small yellow vest in his hands and running his fingers over the puffy material.

“I guess I thought we could use them again one day,” JD admitted.

“Not exactly a perfect fit, but hey, it’ll still do,” Spruce spoke up, adjusting the slightly tight vest better on his body.

JD took the opportunity to slip out of his snow coat and trade it for the turquoise vest he wore. It, too, was small on his body, but he didn’t let it bother him. “Ohoho, yeah, still as fly as ever!” he exclaimed, clicking his tongue and striking a quick pose. Then he turned his attention to Poppy. “Oh, yeah! And for you, Madame Poppy…” He handed her the little magenta vest that had belonged to Floyd. “It kinda works out, y’know, since you both have the pink hair and all!” JD pointed out.

“Oh, yeah… you’re right!” Poppy giggled, happily slipping her arms into the openings and letting it hug against her. EEEEE! This is the same vest that Floyd wore!! she squealed inwardly, incredibly grateful that she was allowed to even have it loaned to her.

Clay in the meantime had thrust his yellow vest on himself, surprising himself with how glad he was to be back in BroZone gear. Then, he got an idea, and whipped out a couple of cans of hairspray from his hair, spritzing it onto his unruly lime-green waves. If John Dory had said they needed to look the part, then he would make sure that he one-hundred percent did!

Spruce noticed and extended his hand out to his brother. “Ooo! May I?”

Clay gave a curt nod and tossed the cans over to him, the purple Troll catching it midair and spraying his luscious locks. Both Trolls donned themselves with pairs of sunglasses to make themselves look sharp. JD polished his own goggles like he’d done many times in his youth prior to any kind of performance, even rehearsals. Soon enough, the four brothers and Poppy all stood in a stunning row, posing elegantly, impressively, coolly. It didn’t matter if their clothes didn’t exactly fit the same way, or if Branch’s diaper felt like it was beginning to give him bum a rash.

For a second, the youngest member of BroZone actually felt good. No, he felt great! It was just like old times, when he would go onstage and sing with his bros without a care in the world, young and cute, and feeling free.

But then the itching began to get to him.

“Oof!” he complained, trying to adjust the diaper better around his bottom.

“Need this?” Spruce asked, pulling out a bottle of talcum from his hair that he used for his own kids. The sight of the powder being presented to a very flush-faced Branch sent the bunch into hearty laughter. Branch hurriedly swiped the item and mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before scurrying off out of their view.

“Don’t be too long!” JD called out between laughs. “We’ve still got a show to do!”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #brozone #branch trolls #poppy trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes

[romanceandshenanigans]

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

A/N: Let's go with mutual pining for these crazy kids. Also this is a spruced up version of a flashback I had partially written. Honestly good to go back to it, so thanks for the excuse!

“Yes and no,” she confessed. “Mostly I'm confused on what you mean by being in love versus falling in love.” 

He gave a soft chuckle. She could practically hear the self deprecating smile that surely accompanied it.

“Does sound a bit pedantic when you put it like that,” he admitted. “I guess, what I mean is, falling in love is easy. A person can fall in love everyday if they have an open mind. All it really takes is a moment. Being in love though, at a certain point it has to become a choice. It’s the decision every day to love someone, to be with them however you can for as long as you can. There are times it’s as simple as breathing and others where it breaks your heart, but it’s a choice. It’s always a choice. The only love worth having is one given on purpose.”

Juliana didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. In truth, breath is general was hard to come by. All she could do was stare as her heart pounded inside her. With a great effort, she swallowed, hoping to gain some restraint. 

“You must have more experience than you give yourself credit for to come up with all of that.”

“You’d think, but just the once is enough.” 

It was with those words her heart completely stopped. How she kept from shaking was beyond her. Her whole body felt as if it were standing on the edge of a cliff with the sudden urge to jump.

She did one better, she got out of bed.

“What about you?” he asked. “Have you—”

He stopped, his mouth still partly open as she stepped to the other side of the curtain.

She didn’t know where to look. His eyes seemed the safest option, dark, almost black in the dim light. Her own, however, refused to remain obedient as they wandered further down to the line of his neck and shoulders to his bare chest. He was lean, but there was a softness to him as well that made her want to grab and kiss every inch of it. Dark chest hair covered his upper half and left a trail she followed to the line of his trousers.

“Jules?”

Her eyes snapped back up to his.

She could hardly read his expression. There was a question there, but also something else, something that made her mouth dry and ache in the deepest part of her.

He pulled himself from the bed, rising to his feet slowly as if expecting her to run.

She didn’t, all her focus went to keeping her eyes up and hands to herself.

“You were going to ask me a question,” she said, somehow.

He nodded absentmindedly as he took a step towards her.

“What was it,” she asked.

There was a moment of silence as the distance between them grew smaller to the point she could just feel the heat of his body.

She suddenly became aware of her own state of undress, only a sleep shirt and loose trousers.

She watched as his eyes wandered across her face; seemingly caught between her eyes and her lips, before continuing on the same way hers did, down to the line of her expose collar bone to the edge of the low hanging linen.

She thought he would eventually look up, but he lingered there before turning his attention slightly lower and to the side.

A hand touched hers, fingers really, just the lightest brush as if asking permission.

Her breath caught as she responded in kind, curling a single digit around his.

The slightest curve of a smile appeared on his lips as he took her hand fully into his own. It was not the first time he had taken such action, but this was different. Every callus and crease and hair was seared into her memory. If she were to go blind tomorrow she would know whose hand she held.

He turned his eyes back to hers with a conviction that make her heart skip in her chest.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked.

What a question. It was times likes these she wished she was a poet. She could have said something devastatingly romantic or at the very least clever, but she wasn't a poet and likely never would be. So she did what she always did when her tongue failed her, she took action.

Cupping his face in her free hand she closed the distance, kissing him with all the words she couldn't say. To her relief he seemed fluent in the language and responded with lips as articulate as her own.

send me a heart and a ship for a brief snippet

#writeblr #wip: untitled regency romance #snippet #original romance #romance #regency romance #original writing #original characters #michael finnegan smith #juliana hamilton #writers on tumblr

[a-scaly-troublemaker]

RV AU on hybrid souls for uty/ut

So in my Revelverse (Or Revelry Verse/RV!) for UTY and UT, Boss Monsters and Elite monsters (who can become boss monsters and are either well trained or related to a boss monster) can handle diluted injections of soul traits. This results in an unnatural Hybrid Soul.

Attempting to bind with a trait always makes them sick until they get acclimated to it. They get sicker and stay sick longer if their soul rejects the trait.

Binding sickness is flu-like, and can leave monsters that reject the trait bedridden and delirious with fever for up to four days. Those that accept the trait have a much milder sickness that lasts up to three days, but can wear off in six hours.

Human-monster hybrids naturally have Hybrid Souls. Not all of the monsters were banished when the barrier went up in RV. The monsters that stayed behind, and their hybrid children, all have illusory and/or shapeshifting magic, which allows them to pass as human. They start coming out of hiding gradually a few years before the barrier breaks.

So who has what trait in RV, and how does it affect them?

Starlo: KINDNESS. His soul is tinted green, and he has weak healing magic and fire magic alongside his attacks showcased in UTY. He is a multi-phasic monster thanks to his hybrid trait and how much influence he exerted over the Dunes, which means he has a Zenith form I dub Nova. More on that later.

Dalv: PERSEVERANCE. He's a gentle, shy monster... most of the time. Don't force his hand. Dalv is a tesla coil with a heartbeat, and in RV, once in a while, he stands up for his friends and for himself. He learned special magic designed to capture, not harm, hostiles.

Ceroba: DETERMINATION. No surprise there.

Orion: PATIENCE. This hinges on a personality headcanon I developed without playing UTY. Orion is a quiet man who doesn't bear his heart too easily, but is always a beacon of support for his friends and family. He does what he can.

Martlet: INTEGRITY. Obvious reasons are obvious.

Now, about Starlo's Nova form. His Nova form has two states: True Nova and Neutral. In True Nova, his skin brightly glows a bright shade of sunny yellow, almost white, which shifts to cyan in a gradient towards his outlines. His spines and the markings on his head simply become brighter in this state. The tendrils on his head may fold backwards, mimicking a comet tail, though they will still move to emphasize his expressions and how he's feeling. In his neutral state, his skin is the same color as the night sky. He blends in perfectly with it, also, save for the fact that his body will not mirror shooting stars. He takes this state when he has managed to get his emotions under control for the time being. He can sometimes be seen rapidly switching between Neutral and Nova, then back to Neutral as he attempts to calm himself down. This results in bright flashes of light. Unfortunately, he is quite impulsive and emotional in this state. Will try to attack people and monsters he's mad at, but will be unable to bring himself to. Such is the curse and blessing of his Hybrid Soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay. I'm done rambling now. I hope this was at least interesting to read through, and that I didn't lose you between the blocks of text. I tried to spruce it up with texts effects so my own ADHD brain wouldn't suffer from reading and writing it.

#uty au #ut au #rv!uty/ut #hybrid souls headcanon #hybrid souls hc #ut magic and soul hcs #revel rambles #zenith starlo #nova starlo #name may be changed