#<<< lmaooo i know the feels!

[haliaiii]

Juno’s champion

[clearlydusty]

Here's the mondo sketches I promised, as well as @squishvicx request for Trans mondo HC!

[uncanny-tranny]

Shoutout to all the other adults who have acne or any other condition of the skin that you are expected to outgrow or "just deal with."

Adulthood isn't this magical time where everything just disappears, and the reality is that these skin conditions are largely genetic. It isn't your fault (nor your skin's fault) that you are an adult with different skin than other people. In fact, it's neutral (and even, dare I say, good!).

[aldoodles]

Plz have this rough post-series httyd doodle dump

[haanahaki]

Thoughts were being thunk

[biblically-accurate-dca]

@vanweek2024 day 6 - spare

vanny goes bowling !

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

It will never stop being funny to me that the Titan's Tower incident between Jason and Tim happened right after fucking Jericho did the exact same thing but was way, WAY scarier about it.

JERICHO repeatedly attacks them, endangers civilians, possesses multiple people, is out of his head with rage and sorrow at feeling expendable and feeling like teen vigilantism was what got him and Donna killed. Hell he even shoots Bart through the leg, which fucks him up so bad he has to go through unanesthetized surgery and that trauma prompts a whole ass character growth spurt! Jericho both while possessing Slade and when they fight him in Raven's mind trap thing is like seriously bad news! He's playing for keeps and intent on really hurting them! It takes a full team effort over multiple comics to trap the guy

Then fucking JASON sneaks in ever so carefully, knocks a few of them out, feels a bit bad about even doing that, and has like a waffle house parking lot fist fight with Tim in a party city Robin costume. And what's he do afterwards? He just fucking leaves and never bothers them again! He doesn't wanna kill any of them! He's just a sad wet sack who doesn't know what he's doing with himself

The Teen Titans really do gather around Timmy after their fight lookin at that wall like, "Fucking seriously?? This is the second time this week!"

[the-kr8tor]

I'm so glad you had a lot of fun writing this! It's the best feeling in the world!

Hobie probably teased her by calling her a 'fit grim reaper' 🤣

The guys have their work cut out for them HAHAHAHAHAHHA

He's never gonna stop asking for smooches!

I loved it sm!! It's always a joy to see my fics have their own fics!! And it's always a pleasure to read your work!!! ❤️

A Sure Thing

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Demon! Hobie x Angel! Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Tags: fluff, family time, fighting (just sparring), cursing, badass R(in a sense), title based off of Sure Thing by Miguel, teenage! Billie & Ramona, lovesick hobie, lovesick r, (your friends being disgustingly cute), R is AFAB, no physical description of R (besides clothing), nephalem! children

Summary: You come home to find Hobie and Ramona sparring, because of course they would be.

A/N: So... suprise? Another part to the au, I guess😭🤚 Along the lines of an epilogue. Billie, Ramona, and third child belong to @the-kr8tor 💕💕 I just came up with the son's name.

Part 1 <<< Part 5

Sweat beads at his brow, his chest heaving as he reaches over his desk for his phone. A scowl on his face when he can't quite seem to grab the blasted thing, breath growing heavier the more seconds that tick by. Where was his good for nothing secretary when he needed her?

“The stupid bitch”, the man spits as he loosens his tie, sweat dampening his crisp black suit. He blinks as his vision suddenly swims, colors bleeding together into a blurry mass of light. The man gasps, hair slipping into his eyes and chest aching. The room seems to tilt on its axis and he feels hot, too hot, too cramped. He wants to peel his skin, scratch the itch that has settled on his bones.

Then, like magic, the sensations are gone. Like water has doused the flames. The ache in his chest still lingers and with a shaky hand, he pushes back his hair, gaze stuck on the ceiling. When had he looked up? And had the lights always been off? Shaking his head free of the thought, the man wipes the sweat from his brow. That had been… strange. Perhaps he should go to the hospital, especially since it felt like his legs were glued to the floor, his butt melded into the luxurious office chair. Blinking slowly, he lets his eyes drift back down towards the door of his office, only to startle at the woman standing in front of him. Eyes skimming the figure before him, he sneers and scrunches his nose up in disgust.

“What the hell are you doing here? Security knows better than to let filth in here!” The man barks angrily, lifting his hand up to shoo the woman towards the door. Only to feel a sharp pain overcome his entire body at the motion, like needles pricking his skin and alighting his nerves. His eyes flutter before he fixes his glare at the sound of soft laughter.

“Security couldn't stop me if they tried, Mr. George Barnaby Miller”, you say softly with a chuckle, fiddling with a loose strand of fabric on your jacket. You sweep your gaze over to the stocky man behind the grand desk, movements calm and almost carefree as you slowly saunter closer towards him. A haughty man on his throne. You scoff and shake your head as an amused smile flits across your face. Where oh where have you seen that before…? Miller furrows his eyebrows at you, scowl painted on his thin lips.

“You know my name…? Never mind that”, the man huffs, hands shaky as he pulls at his collar. He clears his throat and taps a finger on his desk, demanding your attention. And with amusement sparkling in your eyes, you give it to him. “Take me to a hospital, stat. Get me there fast enough and I'll make it worth your while. Also, you'll address me as Mr. Miller, brat.”

“Hm. How about… no?” Miller narrows his eyes at your words, fire lurking beneath the depths and threatening to burn you. You aren't fazed by the flames.

“No…? You don't get to tell me no, you useless wretch. Get me there at once!”

“Why would I bring an already dead man to the hospital”, you question with a laugh, snorting at the blank look he gives you. Disbelief colors his gaze and he sneers, shaking his head and pounding a fist on the desk. It doesn't rattle, which seems to get his attention. The air is almost stale, like time has all but ceased at this moment. The man swallows a lump that forms in his throat before giving a haughty smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“Threatening me will do you no good here. Do you even know who I am, trash?”

“I do, actually! Born March 26th, 1925, father died when you were young. Hm, let me just…” With a flick of your wrist, tiny glittering gray clouds materialize into existence, littering the air around the two of you. They swirl and shine and flicker, until a sudden flash of bright light reveals the moving pictures hidden within. You can hear Miller's breath hitch at the sight, see as a hint of trepidation begins to flicker in his eyes. A smile on your lips, you stuff your hands in the pockets of your jacket and sit up top the very edge of his desk. Before he can protest, you jerk your head towards a specific gray cloud.

“Pretty, isn't it? Know what these are, Miller? They're memories. Moments in time, your time.” You mumble as you both peer at a shimmering gray cloud. The moving image inside shows a young boy cackling as he steals from poor beggars on the street, spitting in their faces before running off. The image flickers before showing the boy slapping and demanding money from a tired looking woman. She hands the boy cash with tears in her eyes

“You've always liked money and shiny things. Didn't seem to care who you were taking it from, just as long as it ended in your pockets.” You mused as you idly scratched at your neck, noting how the man behind you is silent as he watches the scene unfold. With a shrug, you nod your head at a different cloud, the flickering scene showing the same woman from before. Only now, she's bowing her head and seemingly spewing apologies towards a fuming couple. The couple have their arms wrapped around a heavily pregnant girl, who could be no older than fifteen. They're shouting as they point at the boy from before, who's older now and smirking with his hands behind his head.

“Poor girl. Got her pregnant and kept denying the baby was yours. Gotta say, nothing has changed about that.” You mumble as the scene flickers to a new one, showing the older boy now wooing another girl as the pregnant girl from before weeps at his feet. This was only making your job easier. You motion to yet another gray cloud and the two of you watch another memory. This goes on and on for what Miller thinks is hours, all the scenes portraying everything he'd ever done in his lifetime. When the clouds poof away in a shimmer of tiny sparkles, he glares at you with his jaw clenched, nostrils flared in barely restrained anger.

“What the hell do you want from me…?” That makes you scoff loudly, shaking your head as you move off of his desk and stand in front of him once more.

“You don't get it, do you Miller…? All those memories we've just sat here and watched, moments of you being nothing but a dick to people… That was your life. That's how you'll be remembered. All the pain you caused, all the lives you ruined. You abused people, your wife, your children. Discarded those who didn't fit into your perfect ideal vision like the children you had from numerous affairs. Stole from the poor, ravaged the needy. That's all they'll see when they think of you.” He laughs, a deep guffaw that comes from the belly as he slaps a hand on the desk. Like your speech just tickled him. With a sigh, you look at him with exasperation as you wait for him to finish. It takes several more moments before he finally quiets down, chuckles leaving his lips as he wipes at his tears.

“Gotta admit… That was a good one. You act as if I should care, as if my heart should bleed for those pathetic sacks of shit. Life has no room for scum like that. They should be thanking me.” Miller spits out, words a hiss of venom for all those people he trampled upon. “I taught them that only elites like me belong in this world, that they should apologize for even being born. No matter how they remember me, it'll never take away from the fact that they should have never been placed on this damn planet to begin with. They'll remember their place in this world, thanks to me!” You just stare at him, silence all you can muster for several heartbeats as he heaves from the drivel he'd uttered. With a sharp inhale, you nod your head, removing your hands from your pockets.

“Okay…”, you breathe softly, standing up straighter as you step back from the desk a bit. “That was your chance at redemption, at repentance, and you squandered it. You won't be mourned…” Angry veins threaten to pop out of his forehead as he gives you a nasty look, eyes wide and teeth bared with fury that makes his entire body shake. He points a thick, manicured finger adorned with several rings at you, hand shaking and twitching with the painful spasms that seemed to wrack his body. The guilty always did like to snap their teeth when it was unnecessary, especially if they knew that deep down, they were in the wrong.

“Know your damn place! Who the fuck are you to judge me, you filthy quim?!” The man's heavy breathing is all that can be heard in the silence of the office, the air now growing colder and thicker. As he wiped at the sweat that was starting to drip down his temples again, he could feel his temper dissipating slowly. You remained staring at him, unblinking and the slight shine to your eyes fading, like the warmth of your gaze was growing colder. There's something stirring around you, something sparking like static. Like a dangerous current of energy. Miller can see it, feels his breathing grow heavier with slight trepidation. Trepidation that slowly shifts into fear at the way the lights in the room start to flicker.

You tilt your head at him and the very ground starts to shake. The eerie look in your eyes grows all the more frigid as they start to glow a bright white, peering deep into what he feels like is his very soul. Papers and supplies suddenly shoot up into the air, whirling and spinning about the two like a raging tornado. The lights flicker sporadically, the violent winds rustling his clothes and whipping him in the face as he gazes up at you in horror. There, erupting from your back and spreading out wide behind you are a pair of glorious wings, casting a large ominous shadow about the room. The feathers gleam and glitter, shifting from pristine white to pitch black with every movement as you lift up into the air. Divine, radiant energy crackles around you, around your very fingertips as you point a finger directly at the shivering dead. Fear grips its icy claws into Miller's non beating heart and refuses to release him as you speak, your voice seeming to rattle his very bones, thundering in his ears like the most vicious of storms.

“I am peace. I am agony. I am light. I am darkness. I am protector. I am avenger. The Heaven's bell ringer. The Hells’ caterer. The Angel who hath fallen from grace. The Angel who hath conquered her fall. The Heavens and Hells demand judgment for thee and judgment I shall bestow.”

Just as his trembling lips begin to part, hastily trying to plead for mercy, a crackling bolt of energy erupts from the tip of your finger. His screams echo in your ears as his soul writhes and twitches, shrinking down, down, down. Until it is but a glowing orb floating listlessly above the desk. The howling wind slowly subsides, the papers and office supplies clattering onto the floor around you. You flutter back down to the floor, stumbling as you land on your feet. Groaning, you place a hand against your head and shake away the lingering glow of your eyes. One day, you'd get used to this part of the job. Hopefully.

Sighing, you beckon the floating red orb towards you with a flick of your finger, tucking it into your pocket once it glided into your palm. The sound of clapping makes you jump, your head whipping around towards the source. Serenity giggles at you as she nears you, hands on her hips as she nods her head.

“Doesn't matter how many times I see it, you're always so bloody terrifying. It's a good look, babes”, she hums as she links her arm with yours. You roll your eyes and shake your head, a smile flitting across your face despite yourself.

“I suppose. I wonder if it'd have the same effectiveness if I was actually in control of that part of the job.” You mumble as you feel a ghost of a hand on your shoulder, patting it in what you're sure was thanks. The Almighty. After giving you your wings back after killing Osborn, the entity had bestowed you with a new title befitting your new sense of self. Not just an Angel but nowhere near a demon. More so, you were the bridge between the Heavens and Hells, delivering judgment to those whose vile acts have threatened the lives of more than just a handful of people. An amazing job that you did with pride and great care, fairly judging the souls that were required of you. The only downside to the whole thing was that you couldn't control when you gave the whole spiel you did earlier. As long as it terrified your targets into knowing the severity of their actions, it didn't bother you.

“Oh, trust. You don't need a speech to be terrifying”, Reni says with a playful scoff, making you chuckle as you open a portal to your home. It then struck you that Serenity was here. On Earth. With a gasp, you turn and look at her with wide eyes.

“Now that I'm thinking about it, why the hell are you here? You shouldn't be out and about like this right now. How did you even get Ned to let you leave the Hells?” She groans and rolls her eyes, patting her pregnant belly with a sigh.

“I had to sneak out. I was feeling cramped! And nobody does funnel cake better than the humans, okay?” Serenity says with a sheepish smile, poking your cheek when you frown at her. “Neddy was fussing over me too much and I needed a break. Not that I don't like when he's clingy. The baby wanted earth food so she gets earth food, dammit! I'm a fully grown succubus, I think I can handle a trip while pregnant.”

“Ned is probably losing his shit right now”, you sigh heavily as you tug your friend along with you into the portal. “He gets a little dumb when it comes to you. Imagine how he's gonna act when he sees you missing.” Reni just groans and stomps her feet as she trails behind you, knowing that you were right. It makes you giggle.

You feel the weight of your day lifting off of your shoulders as you both emerge from the portal, the sight of your home filling you with warmth. A smile flits across your face as you both walk towards the cottage, heart soaring at the sight of your little Aiden running towards you.

Reni lets go of you so that you can open your arms wide, letting out a small oof when the eight year old collides into you. A chuckle leaves your lips and you pull him closer, fingers softly pushing the locs over his eyes away from his face. Aiden smiles up at you with gleaming eyes, dopey and lopsided just like his father. It always astounded you just how much he looked like Hobie, to the point he could be considered his mini me. At least he had your eyes.

“Welcome home, Mummy”, he says sweetly, beaming up at you in the most adorable way that your heart aches. Cupping his face in your hands, you press a loving kiss to his forehead and nuzzle your nose against his.

“I'm home, my darling. What have you been up to today while I was gone”, you coo softly as you lean back a bit to look at him properly. His nose twitches before he gives you an endearing look. Uh oh. A tell-tale sign that he was about to lie. You release him with a raised eyebrow, hands on your hips as you wait for his little story. Aiden chuckles softly and clasps his hands behind his back, black wings drooping behind him a bit.

“W-Well…! I, uh… I paid attention durin’ class today! Mr. O'Hara said I was good! And then, uh… I-I came home and did my homework. Honest!” His cute little smile almost makes you forget that he's lying straight through his teeth. You hum before glancing down at his shirt, noting the dirt caked onto his sleeve. Oh, of course.

“Aiden Lokius Brown, answer me truthfully. You and your sisters have been sparring with your father again, haven't you?” He shakes his head furiously, nose twitching all the while. You suppose that one day he'll get a handle on that. Just as he goes to open his mouth to deny your claims, an arm wraps around your shoulders. A deep chuckle sounds in your ears and you turn to see Hobie beaming down at you. His golden eyes sparkle and his locs spill over his shoulder as he peers at you, a knowing grin on his face.

“Wha’ is all this ‘bout sparrin’, huh? Aiden and I've been doin’ nothin’ but homework. Right, terror?” He drawls as he looks down at a slightly shocked Aiden, who quickly pulls his facial expression together before giving you a shaky smile. The sight makes you narrow your eyes and you gaze back up at Hobie with a knowing smirk, the demon before you visibly sweating under your scrutiny. After a beat of silence, you lean away from him and fold your arms.

“Come on, Billie. Jig is up”, you hum softly, biting back the grin as ‘Hobie’ groans with defeat. A shimmer of dark purple light flickers around him, before the form of your demon melts away, revealing your pouting sixteen year old. She huffs and folds her arms as she looks at you, brown wings drooping a bit in disappointment at being found out. Her clothes are mussed, dirt cakes her cheeks, and her hair has leaves sticking out of it.

“How'd you know it was me? Thought my Dad impression was spot on.” Billie grumbles, scrunching up her nose as you rub some of the dirt off of her face. A chuckle leaves your lips as you playfully yank at one of her curls.

“You and your brother should have planned this out a bit more. Besides, you forgot to add our birthstones that he wears in his hair and his necklace”, you say as you show off your ruby one that matched his sapphire one. Billie just pouts and kicks up dust with her feet before letting out a loud sigh.

“Okay, fine. We were sparring with Dad, though he only wrestled with Aiden. He and Mona are going at it right now.” You just close your eyes at her words before shaking your head and heading to the backyard, your children trailing behind you. The sounds of a scuffle grow louder the closer you get, eyes wide at the scene that greets you.

The flowers you'd planted were all but scorched, lingering purple flames burning the grass beneath it. The very earth looked as though it had been cracked open by an earthquake, the pergola now sitting lopsided. The large oak tree that you and Hobie both adored was now split in half straight down the middle. And there Hobie was, too busy sparring with his daughter to notice the state of everything. The chaos of it all just makes you sigh and you hear Reni’s voice coming up beside you, turning to see Riri at her side as well. The cambion shakes her head and grins as she points at the two, gently nudging your side with her elbow.

“Ramona’s lasted longer than the other two. Wonder if she'll finally beat him this time”, Riri says with an excited gleam in her eyes. You shoot her a glare and huff.

“Ri, you know I don't want them doing this. Look at this mess!”

“If it's any consolation, it doesn't look half as bad as last time”, Reni whispers softly, a sympathetic look on her face as she pats your back. Her hand stills suddenly and you glance at her in confusion before biting back the amused giggle from leaving your lips. Standing a few feet away is Ned, newly finished knitted blanket for the baby clutched in his hands and a frown on his trembling lips as he meets eyes with Serenity. He's quick to march over, the crow demon very clearly upset at the fact that his girl had up and disappeared on him. You watch with a barely contained grin as Reni gives him a sheepish, apologetic smile before gaping at him in shock. Unshed tears shine in his red rimmed eyes as he looks down at her, face slightly red as though he'd been crying. Poor guy. Ned sniffles before folding his arms, the blanket he made still clutched in his hands.

“Go on. Tell me where you were.” He huffs and Serenity all but caves at the sight of him, hands cupping his cheeks as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips. Riri groans beside you at the sight but refrains from booing them, clearly seeing how upset Ned is.

“I'm sorry, Neddy bear. The baby was making me crave funnel cake and I was feeling really cramped at home. I should've told you, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be this upset about it, honest!”

“Course I was! You're pregnant, babe! This is our first ever child and I don't want you to strain yourself.” Ned sighs before wrapping his arms around her in a hug. “If you want to get out sometimes, then just tell me. I can always walk with you or have someone else go with you, okay? Promise not to sneak out anymore? It's not good for my heart.”

“Aw. I promise, love.” Serenity coos before kissing him, Riri now officially starting to boo them. Ned flips her off, which makes you laugh. Some things never change. Taking a deep breath, the crow demon gazes around at his surroundings with wide eyes.

“Oh, shit. Wha’ happened here?” A groan leaves you as you're suddenly reminded of the chaos. The cambion besides you snorts at your friend's words.

“Took you long enough, Neddy boy.” You chose not to dwell on the thought of repairs and shift your gaze to observe the fight closely. It looks as though the long sparring session was about to come to an end, Ramona panting heavily as sweat dripped down her forehead. Hobie smirks at his daughter and tilts his head, voice taunting as he speaks.

“Come now, Mayhem. That all you got? Thought you said you was gonna make me eat dirt, huh?” He snickers before beckoning the panting teen closer. Mona grits her teeth, eyes glowing a deep blue and dark brown wings puffing up with growing irritation. Energy crackles around her then, sharp and scorching, almost like lightning. Then, she suddenly disappears in a shimmer of blue smoke, the wispy clouds dissipating into the air. Ramona appears in front of him in a shimmering puff of smoke then, quick as lightning as she kicks him in the chest. Hobie grunts before moving to grip her leg, only for his fist to close around nothing. She's behind him, aiming another kick to his back. Just as he turns around, Mona has appeared at his right, smoke billowing in her hair. She lands quick harsh jabs and kicks, moving so fast that it's hard for any of you to really keep up. Blue smoke trails after her with every new spot she teleports to.

“Go, Mona, go!” Billie cheers and Aiden jumps excitedly beside her, the two overjoyed to see their father actually getting stumped for once. Hobie chuckles, shocked and proud that he's being forced to defend himself before clicking his tongue.

“As amazin’ as this is, Mac”, he grunts before shooting out a hand to grab Ramona by the collar of her jacket right as she appears in front of him. Her eyes widen and she yelps as he suddenly flips her over his shoulder, the two tumbling onto the burnt remains of the grass below. Landing on her back with a groan, she glares up at her smirking father, slapping at his arm firmly pressed against her shoulder. Hobie chuckles and tilts his head down at where he has her pinned, his victory clear. “Not really good to be predictable, innit.”

“Ugh. One of these days, ‘M gonna win.” Ramona huffs, chest heaving and the blue glow of her eyes fizzling out. Aiden and Billie boo at Hobie as he helps her up, patting her head affectionately. Which earns him a pout and a slap on his hand.

“I look forward to seein’ it, Mon. Now, I've got to see to snoggin’ your mum.” A loud guffaw leaves you at his words and you gape at him incredulously while he jogs over to you, your children and Riri giving him a collective number of boos which does nothing but make him laugh and wiggle his eyebrows at them. You can see your reflection in his golden gaze when he's finally close enough, eyes warm and glittering with affection. Dark flawless skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat and piercings glinting in the sunlight, you have to reign in the way your eyes dare to stray lower down the opening of his loose white cotton shirt. His hair spills over his shoulder, crystals in his hair clinking together softly.

Hobie smiles down at you and places his hands on your hips, fingers looping in your belt loops and tugging you closer to him. The action alone makes your breath hitch and the way he looks down at you through his long lashes is enough to make you almost swoon. You reel yourself in, however, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look. It makes him pause, stopping himself from leaning further down and raising an eyebrow in question at the look on your face.

“Wha's the matter, lovie?” Hobie asks curiously, fingers fiddling with your belt loops still. Narrowing your eyes and letting out a huff, you sweep out an arm to gesture to the ruins of your backyard. Gold eyes sweeping to survey the damage, he winces slightly, lips turning up into a sheepish, apologetic grin.

“O-Oh… We got carried away, huh…?” Hobie chuckles softly, biting at his bottom lip and batting his lashes down at you.

“Don't try getting cute with me. Look at this! I thought I told you I didn't want you sparring with the kids. What if someone got hurt?” The words make your demon scoff, shaking his head as he leans in closer to you, cool breath fanning your heated cheeks. You could tell what he was trying to do and part of you was certain you could resist him. A very small part, though.

“You know I'd never harm my monsters, yeah? Nothin’ happened, love. Nobody got hurt, promise”, Hobie mumbles as one of his hands move to tenderly grip your chin, lifting your face up closer to his, lips just inches from your own. The tip of his nose brushes lightly against yours and you smile up at him so sweetly, so tenderly, your hands moving to wrap around his waist, fingers drawing little patterns on his sides. Your eyes flutter as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, your forehead, your nose. As he peppers little kisses on your skin while trying to work you into letting him fully kiss you properly, your fingers trail lightly up his side. Brushing them along his chest, you gently poked right at the space his ribs would be, smirking up at him knowingly when he inhales sharply.

“Nobody got hurt, huh…?” You whisper softly before leaning back to gaze up at him with a raised eyebrow. Hobie lets out a huff of a laugh at being found out before shrugging.

“She got me good, wha’ can I say?” You scoff and roll your eyes.

“They're all getting stronger, Hobes. One of these days, they're gonna give you bruises”, you mumble as you gaze up at him.

“That just means I've gotten sloppy”, he says with a cheeky grin that irks you, a little annoyed that he's still joking about the fighting. Pursing your lips, you pull away from his embrace and fold your arms. Hobie lets out a confused hum, quick to loop his fingers back into your belt loops and gently tugging to pull you back to him. You don't budge, shooting him a glare.

“Nope. You lost kissing privileges.” Hobie's gold eyes widen slightly before a pout forms on his lips, fingers tugging you closer still. He leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder, hands slowly trailing up your hips to your waist and thumbs rubbing tender patterns on your sides. His voice is a low whisper, a whiny mumble that makes your heart ache and your slight resolve to punish him falter.

“I really can't get any smooches? ‘M really sorry, lovie. Gimme a kiss, please?” And now he was asking politely? The stern expression on your face was breaking and you shiver as you feel his lips press tenderly against your neck, piercing cold against your flesh. Hobie's kisses move up higher towards your jaw, as soft as silk and enough to send your heart thundering in your chest.

“Let me kiss you, angel, please? My pretty, pretty, angel”, he murmurs between kisses, effectively melting your heart and shattering your resolve. You sigh and gaze up at him with dreamy eyes as he pulls back to look down at you properly, one of his hands guiding yours to rest on his chest while the other gently cups your cheek. You can feel the fluttering of his heart beneath your palm and Hobie gives you such a dazzling smile full of warmth and adoration that you swoon. His lips press against yours then, soft and sweet and making your heart soar into the clouds. Your eyes flutter shut and you lean into him more, never able to get enough of him it seems. His pounding heart beneath your fingers makes your brain short circuit and the breathy chuckle he gives against your lips makes you weak in the knees.

“Am I forgiven”, Hobie mumbles against your lips, voice deep and low and like the smoothest of chocolates. Damn him for being so utterly perfect, for making a home for himself in your heart and soul. And when he looks down at you with sparkling golden pools of devotion to you and only you, you're reminded of just how much of a goner you are. You softly nod your head, leaning in for another kiss and melting at the pleased hum that escapes him.

“One of these days, I'll stop giving in to you so easily.” You whisper, which makes him chuckle and adorn you with more affection. Only for you both to yelp at the cold splash of water hitting you both. Eyes wide with disbelief and now dripping wet, you both whip your head towards the direction it had come from before glaring at your twin daughters. Billie and Ramona are quick to shake their heads and point over to a sheepish looking Aiden holding a water balloon in his hands.

“Terror…” Hobie warns as he shakes his head free of water, narrowing his eyes at his son who drops the balloon on the ground and holds up his hands pleadingly.

“Wait, wait! Auntie Ri told me to do it!” Aiden cries while pointing to Riri, who gives him an incredulous look.

“You little snitch!” That was all Hobie needed before he bolted towards them, both Riri and your son screaming and running away from the soaked demon King who was hot on their heels. The sight sends you keeling over with laughter, tears escaping your eyes and chortles leaving your lips as you grip your stomach. You'd never tire of moments like these. Not when you finally have an eternity to make more of them.

[foolsocracy]

I can't help but notice you haven't posted any angst in a while and I'm suspicious

whipped this one up just for u anon

[souenkun]

Larry's random conversarion lines 🍙

Pokémon Masters EX spoilers ahead!

Random conversation 1:

Ever since I met a certain individual, I now find myself gazing up at the sky every once in a while. There's scenery you'll never even notice if you stick to flat, well-trodden paths. Just something I've observed. I don't dislike the vast, clear sky... But I don't think I can reach it. It's nice to know that there's something like that out there, though.

Random conversation 2:

Pasio seems to have many good restaurants. Ah, I'm not asking for specific recommendations, though... I actually enjoy walking around and looking for a place I might like. That's part of the experience. I seek the exceptional only when it comes to food. Pasio has a variety of cuisines to choose from, so it's hard to stick to just one.

Random conversation 3:

(Player), which do you tend to favor: the exceptional or the average? I was thinking of inviting you to have a meal sometime. Casually figuring out your client's preferences is a special skill that you learn as a salaried employee.

Random conversation 4:

Lunchtime is one of the few things that a salaried employee like me can look forward to at work... We can decide whether to spend that precious time eating something familiar or trying out a new restaurant. It's not just about the meal. The decision-making process leading up to it is also something to look forward to.

Random conversation 5:

People, Pokémon... There's no need to overcomplicate things. Nowadays people only seem to want a shock factor. Something weird, something bizarre. When all's said and done, simplicity is strongest.

Random conversation 6:

You don't necessarily have to follow every instruction from your boss. But I pretend to follow them, at least, so I can avoid hassles later on. That's a technique you can use to get by in the workplace. Keep it in mind.

Random conversation 7:

I'm here in this famous tourist spot, but I can't really spread my wings while my boss has her eye on me. I guess I'll do what I usually do on my lunch break and find a spot to Roost...

[kg-clark-inthedark]

I open up my wallet,

And it’s full of blood.

(text used is lyrics from The Dead Flag Blues by Godspeed You! Black Emperor)

[willowser]

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to. 

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress. 

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought. 

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek. 

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon. 

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his  heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

[orangechickenpillow]

Every time I think about machine herald Viktor happening in the arcane universe my body vibrates at a frequency that could shatter glass

[skullsandcorals]

More Perachel Bingo (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)❤️💙

Hosted by @percy-and-rachel-events 🥰✨

• Prompt: High School

(click for better quality if you're on the mobile app. do not repost.)

PROPHESEA!

a Teen Romance Movie directed by Lester Papadopoulos

starring Perseus Achilles Jackson and Rachel Elizabeth Dare ✨

Art without text under cut ↓

[brainrotisseriechicken]

hi....scrapped wip again. im rlly not built for color. yap incoming

sorry my productivity tanked my 7 year old laptop is nearing its final breath and im just stalling buying a new one as long as possible to not violate the boycott but she (laptop) is making this shit DIFFICULT

im gnna be so honest w yall i havent had the drive to do shit all lately like. i need dopamine kicks to function but nothings working for some reason ??? i bought a jjk book and i fucking love jjk so i should be excited but im ??? not????? fucked up how that works

[uber-dawn]

chat i'm having random thoughts about eos post-game and eevee protagonist. it's no secret that eevee is a popular pick for this game and imo no matter what you choose to evolve them into there's a very poetic explanation for each (though i'm not sure how well i can articulate my thoughts lol). like,

- Flareon: coming from a world of darkness and sharp hostility, the hero chooses to become a soft and fluffy fire type. the hero is so smitten by the sun in the past (and so horrified by the lack of it in the future) that they become a fire type to bring that warmth and light wherever they go! (plus flareon's my favorite :])

- Jolteon: similar to flareon, wanting to bring light to the people of the past. there's also something to be said about the fact electric type are immune to paralysis, as well as the idea that hero was gone for months after defeating dialga, then once they come back they're alive! they want to run, and jump, and celebrate that they're here!

- Vaporeon: the fact that Grovyle and hero were seperated in a storm, that they met partner for the first time on a beach, that the hidden land is across the ocean, (smth smth manaphy, ive never played that far), that water doesnt flow in the future, eeeeverything about chapter 5, and that the partner found comfort in the krabby's bubbles. water in eos is important when it comes to partings and reunions.

- Umbreon: they're a dark type. do i need to explain.

okayifyouinsist, hero comes from a world of darkness!! even if they don't remember it, that darkness affected them on such a deep level that their body never forgot! as well, umbreons and dusknoirs have lots of golden rings on their bodies, and umbreons have a type advantage against dusknoirs your partner still loves you in your new form, but everytime they look at you they can't help but remember Him, and shudder. it's about being forced to reckon with the fact you placed your trust in Dusknoir, and he took advantage of it and betrayed you.

- Espeon: right this wasnt just about umbreon. espeon and umbreon were made to be parallels; where umbreon has high defenses, espeon has a high special attack (+ dark type is immune to psychic). where umbreon has a type advantage on Dusknoir, espeon has a weakness. an umbreon hero will never trust Him again; and espeon hero chooses to believe in second chances.

- Leafeon: GROVYLEEE, it's about choosing to change your very dna so that you never forget your friend! in the short time you know him, you fully understand why your past self stood by his side! there's sorrow in that without your memories you'll never fully understand your relationship with him, but your soul remembers, and you still love your friend. deep down, a leafeon hero is ashamed they ever considered Grovyle a criminal, and wishes they could have had more time with him, in less dire circumstances. last note, the fact that the world of the future was so barren and lifeless without the sun, and the fact you become a leafeon to reflect how the future is alive. :)

- Glaceon: the fact that the hero comes from a world that was frozen, and still becomes an ice type, the future was cold, but a hero glaceon still found beauty in it. it's about remaining hopeful and that with or without fixing the future, you still need to survive in this world. it's about understanding your situation and making peace with it, while still striving to make it better.

- Sylveon: i remember that when fairy type came out, people were trying to justify why it was strong against dragon, and my favorite explanation for it was that in "fairy" tales, the hero slays the dragon. the sylveon hero did it! they slew the dragon, and their story has finally come to an end! as well, it's about wanting to give off a cheery look. it's about saying "don't look at the violence and darkness, look at me, smile! i'm here to help you!" (we'll have Explorers DX someday, trust 🙏. )