Hippy-dippy Redneck

[truelovevip-deactivated20190324]

being as i am an idiot, and having been one my whole life, i just wanna say that i find it very easy to do nothing, and go nowhere. i eat chocolate late at night in the dark. i stand in the garden also. and i’m often waiting for something to happen. and i’m stupid.

[minimalistquotes]

Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you. Loneliness is rarely about empty rooms. It is about carrying words you cannot say and truths you do not feel safe to share. Healing is learning to speak what matters most so you are no longer alone with it. This is the work of letting yourself be seen and known for who you really are. -CARL JUNG

[tiredfederalagent]

Sometimes I think people see me as resilient because I keep surviving things that should’ve killed me.

Like that’s some kind of virtue instead of a side effect.

And I’m angry. I’m angry all the time. At the government. At Umbrella. At Los Illuminados. At every asshole who looked at me and saw a body they could use for something. Cop. Agent. Weapon. Experiment. Martyr. Whatever fit the paperwork best. Angry at what they did to me. Angry that they still get to exist in history books as “researchers” and “officials” while I’m sitting here trying to figure out if the ache in my bones is from injuries, stress, or some new horrible surprise waiting to hatch inside me.

I am so tired of waking up every morning feeling like my body belongs to everybody except me.

I transition. I fight for my body. I drag myself through hell trying to make this thing feel like mine, and then every few years somebody injects me with another parasite or virus or horror beyond human comprehension without asking first.

And people still expect me to smile after. Still expect me to be good.

Some days I look in the mirror and genuinely do not know what percentage of me belongs to me anymore.

And the worst part is that I still care. I still want people alive. I still want to protect them. After everything, some stupid part of me still thinks that if I just keep bleeding enough, maybe nobody else will have to.

Anyway. If anyone needs me, I’ll be lying face down on my couch like a Victorian woman with tuberculosis. Maybe I’ll dramatically cough into a handkerchief for the full effect.

[illalsbb]

˗ˏˋ ꒰🪁꒱ ˎˊ˗ computer vibe

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

[lum1natriiix]

happy iron lung day to all who celebrate

[lemonlover1110]

“Say dada,” Leon says, before filling up the baby’s face with kisses. It’s the sweetest sight, truly, especially since your baby girl bursts into laughter. 

“You know she can barely hold her head up, right? She won’t fulfill your wishes,” you answer, smiling as you watch Leon play with your three-month-old. Your husband, who complains that his daughter is growing too fast, is desperate for her to say her first words.

“She’s a smart girl, isn’t she?” he asks before blowing a raspberry on her tummy, earning a giggle from his little girl. Leon can’t help himself before pinching her chubby cheeks. “She’ll be speaking in no time.”

“Say dada, sweetheart. Dada.” He drags out the word, hoping that it’ll incite her to speak. As if the refined motor skill just needs some motivation from dad for it to get going. You let out a low laugh before deciding that you’ll let your husband be.

You never pictured Leon as this type of father. While he made it clear that he was overjoyed, you didn’t expect him to be so loving with the baby. It’s only natural though. And you can say that you’re overjoyed as you discover this new side of Leon. A side only you and your daughter get to see.

“Look she’s about to–” Leon’s eyes widen as she opens her mouth. He’s filled with false hope until he remembers that she loves to put her hands in her mouth. He sighs before he lets out a chuckle. He kisses her cheeks before saying, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Honey, she won’t speak any time soon,” you remind him and he shakes his head.

“Don’t listen to mama, love. She doesn’t know just how smart you are,” he says, eyes engrossed with the baby. He looks at her adoringly up until she sneezes– And even then he’s completely enamored. She has the absolutely cutest sneezes. 

She’s absolutely perfect.

[theclowninyellow]

"I met a God in a submarine and all I got was PTSD 😔"

[asternoodles]

I like this too much to only put on TikTok

[not-another-leon-blog]

Leon Kennedy x Reader A/N: A little blurb idea I had while writing the next Family Matters fic.

Leon knows he loves you, knows that he truly trusts you, when he doesn't flinch when he feels your hands near his neck.

He spent so many years being grabbed, thrown, and choked out that he associated the sensation of being touched there as a threat.

His body had frozen the first time he felt your lips on his neck. He was so unused to feeling a gentle touch there that he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull away or stay put. And the guilt he felt explaining it?

Leon didn't want you to think he didn't want you, but the life he'd lived had conditioned him to expect the worst. Even a small love bite made him tense, reminding him of the snapping jaws of the infected, blood and sinew dripping and hanging from their teeth.

But when enough time passes, when he expects you to tire of him but adapt instead? He starts to have hope.

When you lean over his shoulder one night while he's working and drop a quick kiss on his neck, his past momentarily slipping from your mind when the night is so normal, and he doesn't wince?

"It's okay," he says when you try to apologize. He presses a kiss to your knuckles and holds your palm to the side of his neck. "It's okay, sweetheart."

He's still shaky with nipping and biting. In fact, he's not entirely sure it's something he'll ever truly get over.

Now you can kiss on his neck all you want. Because his body knows now that you won't hurt him, that he can truly let his guard down and relax. There's never any intention to choke him or bite his throat out.

It's only ever love and gentleness with you. And that's the greatest comfort you could ever give him.

[thelonewolfdreamer]

Jealous bf Leon Headcanons

Pairings : bf!re4!leon x gf!reader

Summary : Leon is a rational bf: someone who doesn't have any irrational thoughts, but why does it heart sinks and irrational feelings floods his veins, everytime you are with someone who isn't him?

Genre : sfw, fluff a bit? Idfk, comedy? , suggestive, language

Note : its badly written i just woke up a bit ago lol, grammatical errors and other issues though I hope you enjoy it <3 it might be a bit long lol, after few days finally decided to post this headcanon 😭💅

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️

• Leon never thought irrationality would be something flooding his entire system, carving itself into every cell of his body, and making him feel like an 'asshole' in his own mind.

• honestly he didn't even realize how much he could get jealous over something trivial like someone having your attention who isn't him. Bullshit. That's what he used to thought, when you mentioned he was jealous. Because that was the most absurd thing he had heard in his life.

• because Leon scott kennedy, the most skilled government agent who had watched far too many things in his life could not get jealous. Right? FUCKING RIGHT?!

• when Leon is jealous at first he denies it completely, like scoffing, because how weird it sounds, and shaking his head, in complete denial, like "me?, huh, as if!", but remember denial is a river in egypt--, that said, he had still glare holes in anyone who is way too close to your personal space. "C'mon baby, you got it wrong, I don't get jealous." But trust , he is terrible at hiding it. And everyone around him including you can see it with the every twitch of his face, every tick in his jaw, he might get it after a bit late — that he was jealous, but you? You see it before he could even process it.

• Leon knows he isn't the possessive or controlling type. He trusts you — God, he trusts you more than he trusts himself. But what he doesn't trust is everyone else around you.

• Because beneath the jealousy, beneath the quiet tension in his jaw whenever someone gets a little too close to you, isn't anger. It's fear. Fear that one day someone kinder, easier, or simply better than him will come along, and you'll realize you deserve more than a man who carries so much darkness on his shoulders, because he knows he can be difficult. He knows loving him isn't always easy. But God, does he love you? He's completely, hopelessly smitten. But the thought of losing you is something he can't survive, because you are the only good thing in his life. And he can't lose you.

• dont get it wrong — he is not insecure, in himself, and obviously not because of you, if anything, you make him feel secure, you reassure each and every worries of his, you quiet his fears, you make him feel loved, seen, and heard, and he would kill his guts before he doubts you or your love.

• Truth? Leon is overprotective over you. Not in a suffocating way — it's more subtle than that, and weirdly, it only makes you feel grounded, calm, when he cares.

• When he gets jealous, he doesn't become controlling; he just gets clingier. Sometimes it's honestly absurd. He'll get jealous of his own teammates the moment they meet you, because God, he hates how easily they manage to get your attention. After a few minutes of you laughing at their jokes while they tell you embarrassing stories about Leon, he'll quietly make his way over, slipping a hand onto the small of your back before saying, "We should go. It's getting late." You glance at your phone. It's only ten at night. "Leon... it's just ten p.m." He only shrugs his shoulders, meanwhile remaining completely serious. "We're late." And before you know it, he's already gently pulling you away from them, his hand never leaving your lower back. Do you mind it? — Of course not. If anything, it only makes you feel impossibly loved. While everyone around you just shares 'knowing glances', that their ice-cold co-worker is finally — finally, melting.

• When he gets jealous, he secretly loves how you always notice it in that exact moment, and without making fun of him, you simply reassure him. You intertwine your fingers with his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before whispering something so quietly that he instinctively leans down to hear you. "Hm?" Leon murmurs, his blue eyes settling on yours. You only smile before replying softly, "I love you... more than the sky itself." And just like that, Leon feels every single one of his internal organs melt. If only you knew what those words did to him. You have an inkling, of course, but you don't know the full extent of it.

• You don't know that every reassurance from you settles fears he never voices, or that your love makes the hardest parts of him soften without even trying. And Leon? He has every intention of showing you exactly how much you mean to him — in his own way. Clumsy, a little awkward, never overly poetic, but through every action, every quiet touch, and every choice he makes, he'll spend the rest of his life proving just how deeply he loves you.

• When Leon is jealous he becomes touchy with you, you like it of course, you like how he kisses you: marking you as his in every room, and god at that exact moment you feel yourself completely content with everything.

• But sometimes he gets jealous, and you can't help but tease him about it. The moment you both get home, you grin and casually say, "You were glaring holes into that poor guy's skull." Leon immediately denies it, completely flat-faced. "Me? Never." You raise an eyebrow at him. "Yeah?" For a second, he tries to hold his serious expression, but then he stifles a laugh before blurting out, "You noticed?" And after that, neither of you can keep it together.

• The two of you burst into laughter, because sometimes Leon is incredibly irrational, but he's still yours, and you adore his little jealous outbursts. Oh and by the way — the feeling is entirely mutual. Because, in the end, you're both two peas in a pod... or maybe just two idiots who are terrified of losing each other, all while knowing deep down that neither of you is ever going to leave.

• And even in his jealousy, Leon tries his absolute best not to do anything that could ever hurt you. He knows that, sometimes, he's being irrational, and he knows those thoughts are his own to deal with. So instead of letting them control him, he lets your little reassurances calm every storm in his head.

• it calms him the way you instinctively reach for his hand, the way you smile at him, the way you choose to stay by his side regardless — it's everything he needs. Over time, he slowly begins to accept that, yes, he gets jealous, because he loves you so deeply that the thought of losing you frightens him. And somehow, knowing that you'll always meet his irrational moments with patience instead of judgment makes him fall for you even harder.

• After all, you are each other's everything; until the end of the world, and every lifetime that follows.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️

[hamletthedane]

Bridgerton hot people: *busy making out in various gazebos and library locations*

Me, watching: is this estate entailed or under a strict settlement? If it’s the product of a strict settlement, how was that disclosed to the viscount given he was of minority age (and thus barred from contracting) at his father’s death? Did he later perpetuate the strict settlement in his lineal favor despite having zero obligation to do so given that he now stands as legal fee tail owner? Maybe he just saw it as a way to perpetuate the power of the family and bar against less successful descendants wasting the estate resource, all at the direct, deliberate expense of barring his siblings and their families from a landed inheritance? If that’s the case, why are the younger Bridgerton sons such desirable matches among the gentry?? But maybe that’s not an issue, since all of his younger brothers seemingly have independent allowance, and if that’s generated from the family estate, this must be a strict settlement with a life estate income provision for siblings - def NOT an entailment. Is that why these younger brothers are considered good matches despite being unlanded untitled gentlemen in need of professions? Or maybe their mother’s marriage settlement provided for their independent allowance should their father die?? Are they to obtain their own property without title???

Bridgerton hot people: *have now actively started getting down in said gazebos and library locations*

Me, flipping through a facsimile of a 1788 English law textbook: on that note, why are the featheringtons kicked out of what appears to be an owned home by a male cousin upon their father’s death? Was their estate a strict settlement that benefited a cousin instead of a descendant?? Why would their grandfather force their father to settle away from his own descendancy line, with no allowance or dowry provided for the girls? But if it’s entailed and thus out of their hands (also explaining the lack of allowance), why didn’t their father employ common recovery to undo the entailment???

Bridgerton hot people, looking at me through the television: lady, you realize this show is just cosplay **** with extra steps, right?

[deeversuswords]

[strawberry-nugget]

— when you sleep

Katsuki has already turned seventeen by the time you wake up from your coma. Despite the late nights he spends at the hospital by your side, when you wake up, he is inevitably, at school. You wake up to Mitsuki Bakugo holding your hand.

Tags/CW: Bakugo x fem! Reader, high school sweethearts, estab! relationship, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, reader in a coma after the war, class 2-A is a soft menace, mom (in law lmao) Mitsuki is mothering, spoilers for season 8.

Despite it being hard to accept at the state you find yourself in, or even realise it at first, Mitsuki is the one by your bedside when you wake up.

For a second you’re convinced you’re dreaming. The room is too bright, the sheets too stiff, and Katsuki’s mom is sitting there like she fought her way past three nurses and a steel door just to sit and stare at you. Which, knowing her, she probably did.

Her arms are crossed, but her foot is tapping like she’s been waiting a long time. Like she’s been worried. And that solemn look on her face is screaming an apology you don’t recognise yet.

“’Bout time,” she mutters, voice sharp but thin around the edges. “You scared the hell out of us, kid.”

Your throat tightens as you glance, puzzled, around the room. It’s empty, aside from Mitsuki's chair, your bed, and the iv attached to the tender inside of your elbow. No friends, no parents, not a begrunting boyfriend… just Mitsuki and a hospital room you don’t recognise.

In a swift movement, she clasps your hand inside her palms. “I’m sorry sweetheart. Your parents couldn’t make it to Japan yet.” she says and you blink at her. 

The lump in your throat starts bubbling in pain. Your lip quivers next, eyes watering at the fraction of a second. The moment you try to move, the dull ache in your ribs reminds you why you’re here in the first place.

“I’m so sorry,”

You try to speak, but find your lips feel like they’re glued together. It hurts when you pry them and it hurts even worse when you try to speak.

“Ka–”

Panic ensues at the sound of your voice. How long have you been here? You don’t even recognise your own voice. Where you could hear softness, you now hear raspiness, broken sounds that can’t form a word.

But still, you want to ask—The last thing you remember is watching Katsuki fall to the ground with his chest torn, you lurching towards Shigaraki with all you had and white hot pain everywhere in your body.

“Kats–Kaah–”

Mitsuki’s eyes flick to your abdomen, the monitors attached to you, then back to you again. Softer, barely “Katsuki? He usually doesn’t leave until he passes out sitting up. Brat’s got stubbornness.”

“Miss—Mitsuk—Mitsuki, my m—mom,”

The sound rips out of you like gravel dragged across concrete, and Mitsuki is already moving— one hand on your shoulder, the other hovering like she wants to fix something she can’t reach.

“Hey, hey— don’t force it,” she says, voice dropping into that hushed, frantic register only mothers have when something hurts their kid. Or a kid who might as well be theirs.

She reaches for the small cup of ice chips on the tray next to your bed, scooping a few with the spoon and pressing it gently to your lips. “Just this, sweetheart. Slow.”

The cold hits your tongue, sharp and clean, and for a moment it’s the only thing keeping you together. Everything else feels like it’s drifting —your memories, your breath, the distant echo of Nejire screaming your name before everything went dark.

Mitsuki watches you swallow, her jaw tight, eyes shining with things she will never say out loud.

“You’ve been out for a few months,” she adds quietly. “Masaru is trying to get ahold of your folks, along with the doctors but… you know how time zones are. And… circumstances.” Her mouth twists like she hates how uptight she’s being. Like practiced softness physically pains her. “We didn’t want you waking up alone.”

Your chest pulls tight. It shouldn’t mean as much as it does. But it does.

Your fingers clutch weakly at the blanket. “K–” The name falls apart in your throat again.

Mitsuki seems to understand anyway.

“He’s alive,” she says firmly. “He’s at school and he’s healing, but he’s alive. Stubborn little shit tried to pretend he wasn’t feeling okay just so they wouldn’t kick him out of your room last night. He’s been visiting everyday.”

Your breath shudders. Relief hits so hard you feel dizzy.

“And— just so you don’t freak out later—” Mitsuki adds, rubbing your hand with her thumb in a rare, almost guilty motion, “he might start crying a lot.”

That makes you freeze.

Mitsuki sighs, leaning back in the chair like the confession took something out of her. She stops herself from telling you the doctors had announced to everyone that you would probably not make it, not too long ago.

“Don’t tell him I said that. He’ll yell at both of us.”

She glances toward the door, then back at you. “He’s gonna be pissed you woke up without him here. Believe me. But, we’ll tell him after classes are over. You okay with that sweetheart?”

You nod, or at least you think you do. Your head barely moves, just a slow dip that makes the world tilt a little. You’re not sure if you’re agreeing or just reacting to the tenderness in her voice — something you’ve never quite heard directed at you like this, so softly, before.

“Good,” Mitsuki murmurs, like she was bracing for you to argue. Her hand squeezes yours gently, thumb brushing over the back in a slow, steady rhythm that feels like it’s meant to keep you anchored.

You swallow again, rough and painful. The word “classes” sticks in your mind like a burr. Katsuki is… at school. The school is alright if that’s the case, and maybe, your friends are too, your teachers, All Might. There’s so much you want to ask, but such little strength inside you.

Mitsuki watches your face carefully. “He wanted to skip,” she says, rolling her eyes as if the memory frustrates her. “Said he didn’t care about his damn education if you were—” She cuts herself off. Too sharp. Too honest.

Another small, guilty sigh. “Anyway. We made him go. The teachers insisted. Kid was a wreck. No sleep, no food… I swear he almost blew up a vending machine because someone told him to ‘keep his chin up.’”

Despite the pain, a weak ghost of a laugh bubbles in your chest — a tiny sound, but it pulls at your ribs like something tearing.

Mitsuki immediately notices. “Easy. Easy, sweetheart,” she whispers, leaning in, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to talk yet. You don’t have to do anything yet.”

But you want to. You want to ask what happened, how bad it was, whether Katsuki’s really okay or just putting on a front because that’s what he does when the world is falling apart around him.

You try again, voice scraping out of you like rough smoke: “H–how…?”

She shakes her head fast, stopping you before the sentence can hurt you more. “Later. When Katsuki’s here.” Her voice softens, unbearably so. “He deserves to hear you first.”

Your breath stutters, the weight of that landing somewhere deep and tender.

Mitsuki reaches up and brushes a loose strand of hair from your forehead. The gesture is so gentle it barely feels real.

“We’ll tell him after school,” she repeats softly. “He’ll come running the second he hears. And he’s gonna be loud, and dramatic, and probably hug you too hard. But he needs this. He needs you.”

Her voice cracks just a little on that last word. Barely noticeable, unless you’re looking for it. And you are.

“Rest now,” she adds, settling back into her chair but not letting go of your hand.

______

Later that evening, the hallway outside your room is louder than it should be for a hospital — muffled bickering, restless footsteps, a sharp whisper that’s definitely Kaminari complaining he’s been standing too long. With your eyes barely opening from your earlier slumber, you can hear Kirishima gently shushing him. Someone — Mina, probably — keeps insisting they should “just peek in real quick because what if she’s awake?” 

You also catch the hissed argument that’s delivered as a response “Dude, stop— she might be asleep again!” and “I’m not stopping, you stop!”

Their silhouettes shuffle under the doorframe’s faint light, shadows overlapping like they can’t decide whether to crowd closer or bolt down the hall.

You blink slow, the world tilting for a moment, and the ceiling swims into focus. Your throat is dry. Your body feels like it’s made of bandages and cement. But your brain? Your brain catches up just enough to realize:

They’re here. All of them. A soft exhale escapes you— barely a sound, but apparently loud enough for the enhanced senses of teens with superpowers.

Mitsuki nods her head towards the door and chuckles. “They can’t wait to see you,” The commotion outside stops all at once, like someone hit pause. Then—

“Did you hear that?!”

“Kaminari, shut up—”

“Wait, wait— I think she’s awake—”

“Katsuki’s gonna kill us if we go in—”

“Oh my god. Just. Check!”

Kirishima’s voice breaks through the chaos; firm, gentle, leader-of-the-chaos-crew mode “Guys. Calm down. We’ll knock first.”

There’s a beat of silence and then three different knuckles rap on the door at the exact same time. Your chest shakes with a tiny, pained laugh that’s followed by a thunderous cough. The whispering begins again immediately.

“Bro— I said one person should knock!”

“That wasn’t me!”

“You literally have the loudest knuckles, Sero!”

“How do you even know that—”

Someone sighs. Hard. You recognise the sound as Izuku, doing that tight little anxious inhale before he tries to be responsible.

“Should I… um… should I ask Recovery Girl if we’re allowed—?”

“No, if Kacchan shows up and we’re gone, he’ll blast us into space—”

“Oh he’s definitely gonna show up—”

You try shifting, just enough to look toward the door. A small movement, but enough to tug at something deep in your gut. You wince, which apparently sends the hallway into frenzy.

And before they manage to organize themselves, one brave soul reaches for the door handle.

Mina’s whisper—undoubtedly its hers—cuts through the noise “Okay, on three—”

You have exactly one second to process that, and tighten your hold around Mitsuki’s hand as hard as you can, before a hand curls around the knob and another, much sharper voice snaps from down the hall.

“Touch that door and I swear to god you’re dead.”

Every single voice outside vanishes. You don’t even need to see him to know who said it. Katsuki.

Last time you laid eyes on him he was in a puddle of his own blood, chest torn, right arm destroyed. The thought alone is making your jaw tremble.

Your stomach flips; your eyes do that stupid thing where they well up so much that they sting and your heart kicks into a frantic rhythm, strong enough that the monitor beside you responds with a panicked series of beeps.

For a fragment, you come to believe this is a dream. An afterlife experience. Some sick and twisted purgatory. Some strange, cruel limbo replaying the moments before everything went black.

Mitsuki reacts before you do. She leans in, her free hand hovering near your shoulder as if she can physically hold you together while the monitor continues its frantic beeping. “Easy,” she murmurs, voice low. “Breathe, sweetheart. You’re fine.”

Her thumb presses gently into the back of your hand, grounding you.

The footsteps outside slow, the scrape of rubber soles against the linoleum deliberate now, controlled in that way Katsuki walks when he’s trying to stop himself from running. There’s a muffled scuffle—someone tripping over someone else during their attempt to scramble out of his path.

The doorknob turns. Not violently, but slowly. Carefully. Like he’s afraid the world behind it might shatter if he enters too fast.

The door opens halfway, and Katsuki steps inside.

He’s out of breath, but it's the kind where he’s trying very hard not to show. His hair, shorter than you remember, is a mess from whatever fight he had with the wind on the way here. His uniform shirt is wrinkled, sleeves pushed up his forearms in uneven rolls, and his tie is gone entirely.

But none of that is what gets you. It’s the way he stops actually. Abruptly.

And not because Mitsuki is in his way or because your friends are whisper-squabbling just outside the door. He stops because he sees you.

Awake.

His eyes widen first, a stunned flicker of disbelief that washes over his face before he can hide it. Then everything in him seems to go slack for a moment — shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching, the tension dissolving so suddenly it looks like his legs might give out.

“No fucking way,” he breathes, so quietly it barely reaches the room. His gaze flits across your face, ignoring his mother’s plea for decent language.

Whatever strength he had walked in with drains from his posture all at once. His breath catches on a sound too close to a sob, and he stumbles two steps forward before genuinely stopping himself, like he’s afraid he might do the wrong thing and make you hurt again.

The monitor chooses that exact moment to spike again, a sharp, accusing beep-beep-beep echoing through the walls.

Katsuki flinches, just barely. His eyes flash to the machine, then to your hand clutching Mitsuki’s, then back up to you. Something like guilt — real, aching guilt — tightens his expression. His head jerks toward yours and in the same instant he looks completely gutted—like the beeping is some damning confirmation that you’re in pain because of him, that all those months of him replaying the footage of you almost getting torn apart in half, ignoring every warning from people who told him not to, all led to this moment right here: you trembling, terrified, trying to hold yourself together.

He tries to say your name, but it dissolves into a choked gasp. Tears are already spilling, hot and unguarded, not even wiped away. Katsuki Bakugo—who never cries—can’t stop crying.

Instinct drags you forward. You try to sit up, to reach for him, anything to close the distance, but the muscles in your abdomen seize. A bolt of pain rips through you so sharply your vision whites out, and you collapse back into the bed with a strangled breath.

“Stay still!” Mitsuki catches your shoulder before you can tear something, her voice shaking now too. “Sweetheart, you can’t move—”

Your hand slips from hers anyway, desperate to get to him.

“Hey—” His voice cuts off, a sob and cracks, embarrassing him. He swallows hard, trying again. “Hey. Take it easy, you dummy.”

He says it softly. Too softly for it to be an insult.

Katsuki kneels swiftly beside the bed, and his scarred hand hovers over yours. 

When he finally touches your hand, it’s feather-light, trembling with the same fear and relief burning in his eyes. He doesn’t grip, doesn’t hold too tight, doesn’t let go either. He rests his palm over yours, as if he’s anchoring himself to you while afraid that even the slightest pressure might hurt you.

You notice he’s holding a flower inside his other hand. Your eyes widen at the sight and he looks down at his hand too, muttering “It’s for you. A ‘get well soon’”

“Katsu–tsuk–ki” you breathe out, shakingly.

Your fingers twitch, wanting to wrap around his hand, to pull him closer, to fix the broken edges of him the way he’s holding onto you. You try to shift, to ease closer, but your abdomen flares with pain and you freeze, groaning softly.

He freezes too, instantly still, and looks at you with wide, frantic eyes. “Hey… hey, hey, I—I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice cracking, almost pleading.

Then, slowly, he adjusts himself so he can lean against you without putting weight on your ribs. His hand over yours flexes, releases, flexes again, as if he can’t decide whether to grip or just stay connected to you.

His tears fall freely now, soaking your fingers, and the sound of him crying forces tears to come out of your eyes too.

All you can do is squeeze his hand back, as much as your pain will allow, and whisper his name again. 

He takes it, eve though his own hand aches like it’s being pierced, because the touch is not just an ember that you’re alive. It’s the undeniable fact that you’re awake.

And Katsuki is just so, so happy that this one good thing happens to him, he doesn’t even mind that the rest of the class storms inside minutes later and everyone sees him crying.

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work //

Likes and reblogs are so appreciated but if you you liked this you can let me know in the comments <3

Dividers by @/cursed-carmine

[iheartchrisredfield]

“when i was a kid, i used to think about what kind of man I'd grow up to be. i never thought my life would turn out this way." -leon s. kennedy

i wish i could change things for him i feel so bad :(

[thelonewolfdreamer]

ⓘ This user is a hoe for Leon Scott Kennedy.

[thelonewolfdreamer]

Leon in love with you headcanons

Pairings : bf!leon x gf!reader

Summary : love shouldn't make you this pathetic or atleast that's what Leon used to think, until he found himself falling for you: and now he is not only pathetic but also miserable in love.

Genre : sfw, fluff, language, emotional, yearner!leon

Note : i am just rambling lol, kinda long, expect errors, anyways I hope you enjoy it tho, and if you did feel free to like, reblog and comment <3

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️

• Leon in love is completely different than what you had thought he would be like if he ever fell in love. And far from it, you never thought he would fall in love with you. But here he was, and here you were, miserable because of it.

• in love leon is gonna be totally fucking smitten with you: like he had give you those puppy eyes, every time you breathe near him and he is gonna adore every little thing about your existence.

• Once he falls in love, it becomes terrifying for him, because he's not used to give himself away but after he falls for you, he starts giving away every part of himself to you and as he does, he slowly realizes he doesn't even regret it.

• Leon doesn't just fall in love: he stays in it, out of love for you and completely by his choice.

• Leon takes a while to open up after falling in love, but once you earn his trust, he becomes vulnerable with you in ways no one else ever gets to see, and the walls he spent years building slowly and finally comes down, and suddenly you're the only person he tells about his fears, his regrets, the things that keep him awake at night: which always get your breath stuck in your lungs, because the coldness in him starts to melt slowly.

• Being in love is something new to Leon, he used to think, he had never experience it, hell he never even thought he was ever deserving of it, and then utmost quite suddenly you came into his life and everything he used to think about it was ruined: every misconception, whatever it was, completely changed, and only thing he knew was you were the definition of love for him.

• Leon in love will always make sure you don't just know that he loves you — but he will make sure you feel it too, inside your bones, and no matter what, he'll always find ways to make you feel special, loved, and chosen even in mundane moments of life.

• Leon in love would randomly tell you, "how much he loves you", "how much you matter to him," at totally ridiculous moments (when you are completely a mess) or feeling like a burden, and he is always gonna say it at the right time, which will ease all the tension you carry inside your chest.

• Leon in love would not just heal himself but heal a part of you too.

• In love: Leon makes sure you are being provided for, being taken care of completely.

• In love Leon's going to worship the ground you walk on. Leon will make sure you know your worth, not just through his mere words but through the way he treats you every single day.

• he'll compliment the little things about you that everyone else overlooks, notice details you don't even think are important, and constantly remind you of how important you are, and eventually you will start to love yourself that way too.

• when leon is in love he will find himself staring at you doing most mundane or random thing and in his eyes it will be so precious , let it be -- you reading a book, cooking food, or just existing near him, or being cuddled up to him -- those moments would be rare and everything to him, and he had beam at your presence nod his head, like a complete fool, god he would truly be a fool for you, a complete addict of your--love--of your presence, and over time he had make sure to see yourself through his eyes, to help you see your strength, your qualities and how fucking extraordinary you are.

• To him, your happiness is his mission: and the only thing that matters to him, a bit cliché isn't it? But its the only truth that your happiness matters to him more than his own.

• Leon in love is utterly attentive, let it be something you had said years ago, he had remember it as clear as yesterday, he had know your favourite color, your favourite song, to every trauma you have had, and he had be careful with it (not walking on eggshells around you kind of careful) but more so treating you with more care than he does, and he had find ways to make you happy to help you heal.

• he would always boost your confidence by complimenting every little thing of yours: you got a new hair cut? He had notice that, you applied some new sort of lipstick? He loves that--because he becomes way-too detail oriented when it comes to you, moving on--you wore make up? He would notice it right away, you did something new? He had see it and compliment you for next few months lol.

• in love leon becomes touchy, like he had hold your waist, caress your arms, holds your hand in public even if its something he usually dont do, but with you? he had do every little thing you like, just because you like it, and he loves to see you happy.

• he is way too protective in love, once you are his, you are his, and god dont you love that.

• When Leon is in love, he doesn't just love the big romantic gestures -- he finds peace in the small, quiet, domestic moments with you. For him, it's the little things that matter most. That doesn't mean he won't do grand gestures, but what he values above all else is your presence. Honestly, he'd be happier living in a tent with you than in a mansion without you.

• lord, leon rarely falls in love, but once he does he falls harder than any thunder striking the earth, and once you become his, you are the only future woven into his skin, and the only forever for him.

• in love when he finds it hard to open at first, but still he had seek comfort in your cuddles and hugs and for him that's the only moment he could be himself again.

• So, that's how Leon fall in love: completely, miserably and forever.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️

[myfandomprompts]

I love a good drama queen.

RESIDENT EVIL 2 REMAKE