#red really tried to trash this drawing

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, hospital setting, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.

It was an easy day. Or, it was supposed to be. Hell, you had dinner plans. But, working at a hospital isn't always so smooth sailing.

That day you'd just been doing routine, checking up on patients and running files back to the cabinets, taking tests to the lab. You'd just had a breath, eating some incredibly stale pretzels from the vending machine when your pager had started to ping.

And in a blink, there was a rush of feet echoing down the hallway.

"Holy shit," you murmured, launching to your feet, and tossing your trash out with ease. The murmur of frantic beeping and tones you recognized launched you into action.

Just as you poked out of the room, a gurney made its way through the hallway, doctors you knew following closely behind. A familiar stain of red grabbed your eye in the flash that you saw.

"Dr. Madison, what-"

Without breaking a step, they continued rushing down the hall, the man in the gurney, surprisingly quiet.

"Gunshot wound left shoulder," he answered to you, but also just kind of stated, "We're headed to OR 3."

"Is there any family?" You spoke, tone concerned, eager to help how you could.

"Yes, yes. The waiting room, his partner," Dr. Madison, "-police partner."

"Fuck, he's an officer?"

Dr. Madison didn't answer, as the man started to become restless, blue eyes becoming fuzzy. As you found yourself following the gurney, you weren't needed in the OR, but you'd always had a talent for calming patients.

With a look to Dr. Madison, he gave you a nod, and you made your way to the front, "Sir?"

There was a lot of noise, the murmur of machines, the spinning of the gurney wheels, and the tones of the different doctors discussing the amount of blood he was losing but you still heard it.

"Rick," he spoke, in a breathy southern drawl, "-call me Rick."

"Rick," you smiled, a little relief he seemed to be able to communicate, "Hi, Rick, I'm nurse Y/N. Do you-"

There was a breath before his eyes flicked around himself, widening and looking back at you - bright blues, "Where's... Where's Carl and Lori?"

You gently placed a hand on his, to calm him, "Is that your family, Rick?"

"M-My wife, and kid. God, where's my kid?"

"Rick, listen," you spoke, drawing his attention with your hands trying to keep him from moving so much, "-I will find them for you, okay? Your family is safe."

"Promise me, you'll find them," he spoke, breathy, and his eyes cleared of their haze for a second. The blue was like a clear sky; you felt as if he was staring into your soul, and your breath hitched.

"Promise me."

With an exhale, you spoke of your own accord, "I promise."

He leaned back with a cough, but there was some relief there, you could see it. You fell behind the gurney's speed, and felt a shake in your breaths, watching as it disappeared behind an elevator door.

"I promise," you breathed out solidly, and tried to shake the burn of his gaze from your memory.

That was two weeks ago.

Rick Grimes had been in a coma immediately after his surgery, well, after being put to sleep, he never seemed to wake up. Dr. Madison had with ease put him under your care, a trust that was added onto your list, but you hadn't minded, not really.

You'd met Shane first, out in the waiting room, eyes frantic and his hair sticking up from where he seemed to tug on it -his eyes latching on yours. There were a few officers by him, both with hands on his shoulders and they stayed there, as you relayed what you were told to him.

'Is he gonna be okay?'

You told him what you could, doing updates from the OR as soon as you got them. Within a few minutes, more officers had come in tow with a woman -tall, and pretty with brunette hair- and a young boy -the same eyes you'd seen in his father's.

It stuck with you for a second. The pure blue holding onto every word you spoke.

They stuck with you, even more, the hour that they'd confirmed his comatose state, the tremble of the two's lips, and the tone the son spoke to you.

"You have to take care of him," he muttered, eyes shining and watery, "-you have to save him, please."

And with familiarity, you spoke -warm and calm, "I promise."

Despite your promise, you watched as the weeks passed -the light filtering out of their eyes. Rick stayed completely still, the hum of his breathing being the only sound echoing out of the room. Carl, who you had come to know well, stayed as long as he could -talking about any and everything with his dad. Lori sat by his side mostly, holding his hand and rubbing a thumb across the back of it. Shane started at a distance but began to hold her shoulders as they looked at his sleeping face.

And by the third week, the news started to implode, and you were often needed in other rooms. News of airborne sickness growing within the hospital, within dead people.

Visitors weren't allowed in. All staff was kept in.

Rick was still in a comatose state, and all you had were phone calls with the family but eventually, they stopped too. You'd call, but the line was cut -you assumed no one was home.

The reports had stopped even going through, rooms locked with reanimated faces pushing against the glass - some faces you knew and others you never would. Despite the air of the hospital being much different than it once was, you took your duties as seriously as you could.

Patient by patient and doctor by doctor, the hospital began to be infested - no longer locked rooms, but locked wards, operating rooms, and boarded windows. One of the last days you were there, was the day you found Dr. Madison. His face was deteriorating, skin drooping, and blood dried up, god when did he die?

With an exhale, you boarded up what you could and primarily focused on your last patient: Rick Grimes. The world was crumbling around you, but you couldn't leave him -after frantically searching his body for teeth marks, you didn't find any. He could still live.

"It's going to be hell when you wake up, Rick," you spoke, voice scratchy and unused -hair slick with sweat, "-real fucking hell."

When you decided to leave the hospital, it wasn't an easy decision. Not when your morals were so set when your job wasn't complete, but you knew you had to.

So, that day (god only knows the actual date) you started gathering what you could, medicine, bandages, probably expired vending machine snacks, water, and some sort of weapon.

Originally, in the early stages, the hospital simply treated it like a disease- quarantining the sick, and going in with hazmat suits. You watched one of your coworkers get torn to pieces by a simple human jaw.

Then it was locking them in rooms, and drafting cure ideas -along with some intel from a few top scientists, it never quite got too far.

You'd done it first, cornered in the room you'd taken to be your own by one you'd known -a patient that had been there for months, just waiting on a new organ. She'd wanted to be an artist.

You'd cried for 3 days after that, blood smeared all over your face and your hands. They shook for a week after, and sometimes, you still saw the stains on your hands -even though you'd scrubbed it all away as soon as you found an available space.

With all the preparations, you returned to Rick's room.

It was still the same room it had been all those weeks ago, except for the drawn curtains and distant growls that echoed through the hall no matter where you were. Wiping away your eyes, you set to work.

You couldn't be there, but you would be sure he could survive without you. Gathering extra resources and enforcing the windows, your eyes fell on the man. He looked the same, except for the scruff on his chin; and suddenly you remembered Lori kept shaving it -each week she came in and paid extra attention to his skin. Carl and Shane would step out, it always seemed so intimate as she shaved his face - holding it as gently as she could and sometimes she'd be crying. Tears silently falling with the smooth movement of her hands.

You had left during that time as well, only saw in glimpses the gentle touch and affection. If his family was out there... he'd want to be clean-shaven. You owed him that much.

With a breath, you rummaged around in your overnight bag you packed what felt so long ago. It was for when shifts got long, and this one certainly has gotten long.

Finding a razor was easy, and grabbing a lotion from one of the old offices was even easier -they all had been sitting and smelt a little off but you figured it was the best you could do.

And with a shallow breath, you took the razor and shaved the scruff off, a more familiar face appearing in your mind. The motion so intimate it filled a craving in you that you hadn't yet identified. A pleased feeling that somewhere out there, his family would recognize him.

With a bottle of water and a snack left by his bedside, you stepped out of the room and set to make a defense. You locked every room you could, and at the end of the hallway, you boarded up what you could -grateful for the graffiti warning those of what was ahead.

With a breath, you turned around to head out of the hospital, and the fear that crept up your throat was nothing compared to the itching to escape the vicinity. The stink of the dead overwhelmed your nose, and you weren't even sure it could ever get cleared out. Not after being surrounded so heavily by the smell of rotting flesh.

The blood from the corpses that found themselves in your way wasn't exactly helping.

You half wished you'd brought that horrid-smelling lotion, just for something different.

With a gust of breath, you found yourself out of the hospital with blood-drenched hands and eyes clouded in a fuzzy survival instinct.

Inhaling the air in tremendous gulps, you watched the stranded city -eyes solidly on anything that seemed out of place. Your senses had only tripled, but the sun gently shining on your skin had made your body warm with something familiar.

Something you'd missed. Hope.

With a calming exhale, you turned back to the hospital with the sun in the sky and smiled, "Good luck, Rick Grimes."

A/N: Posting this with a plan of a series, but I guess that depends on the vibes and if people like it! Reblogs and comments are appreciated :))

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #twd #the walking dead #stuff n' thangs #nurse!reader #doctor!reader #apocalypse shit #the nurse #fanfic in progress #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction

[pillow-anime-talk]

12 fluff promt for uta plz

# tags: scenario; current relationship; soulmate!au (tattoos); light romance; fluff; couple goals; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. uta {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hope u like it :) have a nice day/night!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

Punk music played at medium volume and spread throughout the building, and you jiggled your right foot to it while keeping your both eyes on the colorful magazine in your hands. From time to time you also glanced at your boyfriend, Uta, who was a few meters away from you, tattooing another client who wanted a huge red dragon across the entire width and length of his back. His concentration was really intriguing, and not even your warm gaze could snap him out of trance.

That’s why, after a few tries, you focused entirely on the thick periodical, reading about the biggest fashion bloopers of this month and dozens of romances in the world of showbiz stars.

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

After another three hours, Uta finished part of the tattoo and thanked his male client for staying in the uncomfortable position for that time. Together with a middle-aged man who had a black beard and dark eyes, they agreed on the last meeting, and thus the last part of the beautiful painting that was to appear on the right shoulder blade. They shook hands, wished each other a nice evening, and then Uta closed the front door to his small tattoo studio, which he had been running for years on his own with no other employees. He turned off all the lights, then returned to a room decorated with a tattoo table, several cabinets, special equipment and a trash bin.

There was also a small, dirty-green leather couch and a table with a glass surface. There was you on the sofa, clutching a magazine in your hands, though your eyes were squeezed tight and your mouth slightly open. The calm face and light movements of the chest spoke loudly about the fact that somewhere in the middle of Uta’s work you fell asleep, and the only thing that appeared in your sleepy thoughts was the desire to drink a cup of coffee without milk and sugar.

For a brief moment, Uta didn’t have the heart to wake you up because he knew your life had been quite stressful in recent days and you had a lot of responsibilities in your private life, but at the same time, he didn’t want your head to hurt after this short nap, or worse, your back and neck.

Before waking you up, however, he glanced at one of the hands that was touching the paper and smiled at the small tattoo adorning your little finger. The drawing showed a full moon; light streaks and lines were made with the utmost precision – the tattoo looked like a real moon that can be found in the sky. After briefly glancing at your finger, he looked automatically at his own left hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. On his pinky there was a drawing of the same size – the only difference was that there was a tiny sun on his pale skin.

He sighed though, touching your soft cheek covered with gold highlighter.

“... Mgmhm...” You muttered something unintelligible under your breath, which made the man laugh again. “Uta... It’s your turn to... Y-You have to take our kids to school... Mhm...” You said a little more clearly, though your voice was still quiet, muffled by yawns and the desire to stay asleep. It was, after all, close to eleven in the evening.

“Kids?” He raised an eyebrow and the silver earring a bit up. “But we are not married.” He added directly into your ear, and you wiggled your nose, keeping your eyes shut.

“Then marry me.”

Surely you dreamed something nice – there was a slight smile and a huge blush on your face. Uta gave up and decided not to wake you up. Instead, he lifted your body off the couch with no problem. He had placed the magazine on a glass table a moment earlier, next to a small candlestick and a vase of dead roses.

You were already soulmates, and that meant the bonds of marriage. Nevertheless, the vision of you two with a bunch of children and then grandchildren, although too beautiful, did not have to be unattainable.

#—🎉 #quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 12 #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul imagine #tokyo ghoul imagines #tokyo ghoul scenario #tokyo ghoul scenarios #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul x you #tokyo ghoul x y/n #uta #uta imagine #uta imagines #uta scenario #uta scenarios #uta x reader #uta x you #uta x y/n #uta tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul imagines #uta tokyo ghoul scenarios #uta tokyo ghoul x reader

[thetreefairy]

First sleepover

Warnings: mentions of isolation, reader is oblivious to who the LOV are. Drinking, smoking. Taglist @slasherscrybaby @yandere-city Words: 951 p.2 had to re-publish this due to massive spelling mistakes, hope you guys like it,

But Tomu-Tomu will take Reader away from them.

“Bye~ I’ll be meeting up with Tomu-Tomu and his friends!” Reader shouted as they put their shoes on, they were going to get drinks with Tomu-Tomu and 2 of his friends. “Make sure to bring your self-defense kit!” Shota shouted, Hizashi rushing towards Reader with the self-defense kit. “Call us if you are in danger, alright?”

“Of course, pa, I will be home before 12 and I won’t drink too much.” Reader kisses Hizashi's cheek and waves as they leave the house. Reader sends a text to Tomu-Tomu.

player two to Tomu-Tomu: Can you send me the addresses, Tomu?

tomu-Tomu to player two: {insert random address} it’s a bit difficult to find, I will be at the start of {random street that is close by}

Player two to Tomu-Tomu: Thank youuu, I am so excited to meet your friends :D

Tomu-tomu to Player two: They are excited to meet you too, do mind Toga however, she is obsessed with blood due to her quirk.

player two to Tomu-tomu: :00, that's so interesting, I can see you. hehehe imma scare you : )

Tomu-tomu to player two: If you want to scare someone you shouldn’t, you know tell them.

Tomura chuckled as he re-read Reader's message, he had seen them himself. But with how cute they are, he couldn’t help but pretend to be scared when Reader hugged him from behind. “So scary~!” He said in a teasing tone. “Almost as scary as you trying to trash talk in Valaront.”

“Hey!” Reader shouted, realizing that he’s making fun of them. “I was really trying, but my little sister was in the same room!”

“Excuses, excuses.” He grinned as he ruffled their hair. At first Tomura wanted to use you, but after just a week of playing video games together he had grown fond of you. His master, AFO, likes you as well and his anger issues have died down now. “Now come on, before the burned bitch is going to call us and complain.”

"Burned bitch?” Reader asked with a curious tone as they started walking to Tomura’s hideout home. “Yeah, my friend has a lot of burns because of his quirk.” He said casually. “Look, we are here.”

When they got inside, a girl immediately hugged Reader. “Is this your friend Shiggy? They are so pretty!” Reader instinctively petted her hair. “Can I drink your blood, pretty please?” the blonde girl asked, drawing out the e of ‘please’. 

“Maybe you should introduce yourself first, Toga.” A man with burn scars asked as he smoked. "Yeah! Nuh uh! Don’t tell them our names!”

“Jin, do me a favor and tone your other side down, I already have a headache.” the lizard type a guy hissed. “You can call me spinner.”

“Hello everyone, I am Reader.” After the introductions and small talk they started to play games. “My god, how did that crispy bitch pull you?” Dabi chuckled out drunkenly. Toga was drinking Reader’s blood happily but that comment made her gasp. “Shiggy and Reader are dating?!”

Tomura looked like he was about to burst and was red. “No no no, we are besties.” Reader chuckled, they were a bit tipsy. “But I do think he’s pretty.” Reader tried to whisper into Toga’s ear making her chuckle. Tomura had heard this and his brain isn’t braining right now. Reader then got a call from Hizashi.

"Papa!" Reader greeted him happily.

 ‘You forgot the time didn’t you?’ His voice sounded amused, but a bit strict as well. This caused Reader to gulp, they truly had forgotten the time! How stupid of them.

“Ah yes, I did, I am sorry but everyone is just so fun! I can go home right now.”

Tomura pushed a bag of blood towards Toga and whispered in her ear to pretend to be his girlfriend. When Toga transformed she said: “N/n, can I talk to your dad?”

“Ah, papa, Tomu’s girlfriend wants to talk to you, is that okay?”

‘That would be wonderful.’

“Hi, sir, I am Lily,”

‘Hi Lily, it’s nice to finally picture a voice by the person.’

“I was wondering if Reader could perhaps stay over at my house, I would feel awful if they had to go home this late.” Toga lied smoothly and before Reader could interrupt Tomura placed his hand over their mouth. Kissing their cheek when he saw their terrified expression. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t get isolated.” He whispered in their ear. He had told the league about the heroes' strange punishments towards their oldest child, so none of them were surprised at his words. 

Toga gave back the phone and winked at Reader.

‘Tomu’s girlfriend is such a lovely girl’ Hizashi told Reader. ‘Your dad and I agreed that you can stay over just this once.’

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Reader happily squealed.

‘Just make sure that you are home before Hitoshi returns from the class trip.’

“So at 4 pm I have to be home.” Reader asked to make sure.

‘Yes, and make sure to not tell Hitoshi, as you know he heavily disapproves of sleepovers.’

“I won’t, talk to you later and goodnight, pa.”

‘Talk to you later and sleep well, dear.’

When Reader hung up she looked at her new found friends. “Well I guess I am staying here.”

“Yay!” Toga shouted happily.

“You should sleep in handy man’s room.” Dabi said with a smirk.

“Sure!” Reader agreed, Tomura looked at Dabi, annoyed.

‘What if I talk in my sleep?’ He thinks. ‘What if they hear my thoughts about them?’

And that was exactly Dabi’s plan, and hopefully make Reader hate heroes, but that might be a long shot.

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#treefairy🧚‍♂️🍁 #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere x darling #male yandere #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere father #fluff #yandere shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #league of villains #toga #shimura tenko #shiggy #dabi #twice #bnha #mha #yandere shimura tenko #yandere erasermic #yandere platonic #x you #gn reader #x reader #platonic #platonic relationships

[auspicious-manner]

welcome back! just some simple domestic fluff with mike faist and famous reader! get to this whenever you feel like it! lots of love<3

thank you for the kindness! <3

i’ve missed writing for mike! also have you guys seen the new challengers trailer AHHHHH IM SO EXCITED IT LOOKS SO GOOD!!! i have a few challengers themed mike stories in my inbox/drafts, so expect those somewhat soon ;)

also it’s been a long time since i’ve written a fluff fic, so sorry if this sucks lol

fem reader x mike faist

warnings: anxiety and mentions of depression

Worthy

•

you loved nearly everything about your life. being an actress, singer, and now a writer has given you more confidence than anything else.

you started as an actress. ever since you were little, you would put on shows for your entire family with costumes and scripts. they weren’t simple either; you would perform full dramatic monologues, emotional scenes, and romantic moments with your stuffed animals. your mom didn’t have to hesitate putting you into acting classes.

into your teen years, you booked commercials and small roles in children’s shows. then, right when you turned eighteen, you got your big break when you gained a major role in a movie alongside some of hollywood’s biggest stars, directed by none other than steven spielberg.

from there, business offers and acting gigs flew in. everything seemed to be happening all at once. it was all so overwhelming. but fame is what you wanted, right?

that’s what you thought, at least. as a child, you glamorized the picturesque hollywood starlight life. you wanted everything from the glitz to the glam. you didn’t realize that being famous came with this sense of dread that one wrong move could end your entire career. you felt unworthy of being in the spotlight all the time. so, in order to keep those intrusive thoughts from rearing their ugly heads, you kept so busy that not even a single thought could even cross your mind.

you knew you could sing, and you began writing songs and releasing music. you even went on a north american tour. then, when the tour slowed down, you wrote a novel. you kept so busy that you lost track of who you really were. what you felt you were meant to do.

sure, you had success and had more connections and fans than anyone could dream of. but what did it matter when you felt so alone?

you began closing yourself off. the limelight was making you anxious, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be seen in public in the state you were in. it all felt so hopeless. you considered living of the grid and going incognito in order to escape the expectations placed on you. for months, you stayed as hidden as possible, and it only made things worse.

being a long time friend of steven spielberg at this point, he sent you a personal invite to the premiere his new film west side story. you almost threw the invite in the trash. the thought of going out on a red carpet again and seeing all of these faces with bright, flashing cameras was out of the equation for you. yet, you missed the feeling of being dolled up. you missed feeling pretty.

when the big night came, seeing yourself in the dress that you had picked out didn’t feel real. you felt like you and not you all at the same time. your mind was conflicted; you knew the glam of hollywood was what made you happy, but since it had been so long since you have felt that way, you felt oddly out of body.

it was a long, off white dress with a leg slit and a completely open back. the dress had sleeves that stopped just below your shoulders, and it hugged your body tightly but not uncomfortably. your wavy hair fell onto your shoulders neatly in a half up half down, your curtain bangs framing your face. for the makeup, you tried to keep it relatively natural, and you didn’t want to draw too many eyes. you paired the look with some heels and a purse.

looking in the mirror, you tried your hardest to feel positive. you looked beautiful, you felt beautiful, yet something still felt wrong. maybe it was because you had no one by your side if you got anxious. as far as you knew, you would know one person there.

the car sent to pick you up took you on a ride through new york as your heart rate quickened. when you arrived at the scene, the bright lights and red carpet gave you chills.

after walking into the crowd, it didn’t take long to find steven. he pulled you aside into a fatherly hug. it felt good to be near someone as familiar as him.

“Y/N, long time no see!” he said excitedly as you hugged him.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” you replied, pulling away.

“what have you been up to? knowing you, i’m sure it’s something great!”

you smiled, trying to create a facade. “oh, you know, a little bit of this and a little bit of that,” you said while nervously laughing. you couldn’t tell steven spielberg that you’ve been in a slump and that the most productive part of your day is waking up and making something to eat.

“i’m excited to see whatever you have up your sleeve,” he said, going to your side and taking your arm. “now, there’s someone i’d like you to meet.”

he guided you through the crowds, and you kept close to him. everything was becoming overwhelming.

you approached a man with his back turned to you. “Y/N, meet mike faist. you two could have a lot to talk about.”

the man turned around, and the first thing you noticed about him was that his eyes seemed to be glowing. they were brighter and bluer than anything you’d ever seen. they were absolutely stunning. upon further inspection, you realized that you recognized him from the posters for the movie, and knew he was playing riff.

he smiled at you, almost as enthralled with you as you were with him. he held out a hand, and you took it gently to shake it. you hoped he didn’t feel the sweat building on your palms. “Y/N L/N, it’s lovely to meet you.”

you grew flustered. “how’d you know my last name?”

mike looked taken aback. “doesn’t everyone?” your smile fell slightly, and mike noticed. “i’m a big fan of your work. your songs, your movies, and i recently started reading your book too. you’re amazing at everything you do.”

steven patted your shoulder before walking away, leaving you with mike. mike had a presence about him that made you feel welcomed and seen. it’s been a while since you felt that way.

“so, mike, what else have you been in?” you asked, wanting to know more about his work. he knew so much about yours, and you felt a little embarrassed that you didn’t know more about him.

he smiled and looked down. “i was a newsie in newsies on broadway, and i covered jack kelly. i played connor murphy in dear evan hansen on broadway, i was in a tv show called panic, and a lot of other stage and film work.”

you nodded, squinting your eyes slightly. “you know, i’ve seen both of those shows on broadway, and i didn’t realize until just now that that was you.”

he laughed. “am i not memorable?”

you giggled in return. “i don’t think it’s that. i just think i’m missing a little part of my brain.”

you and mike continued to talk about your respective careers. you noticed that he was so easy to talk to, and that he listened to and hung onto every word that you would say. it gave you butterflies, and you wondered what was wrong with you.

sadly, you remembered you’re at mike’s movie premiere and he had to do interviews and talk to other people besides you. you could tell he wanted to stay with you, but knew he had other obligations. before he left, he said, “we’ll see each other again before the night is through.”

you’ve had plenty of men try and charm you, with the efforts always falling flat. you’re no stranger to keeping your feelings under control and learning to not date in hollywood. it was too easy to be played by the wrong guys. but, your heart was telling you something different about mike. he made you more nervous and giddy than anyone else ever had and you barely knew him. you started to forget about the fact that you’ve been a hermit battling with your mental health for the last few months.

you caught up with a few old friends from the industry that you had recognized in the crows before it was time to go to a private screening of the film.

you watched as everyone funneled into seats in the theater next to their plus ones and friends. you stood back, scoping the area for empty seats. you felt frozen as all the seats seemed to fill.

“follow me,” a voice said close to your ear before taking your hand and walking with you down the rows of seats. you noticed it was mike and you smiled to yourself.

he took you close to the screen, but not too close, and sat down with you. you sighed. “thanks for saving me back there, i was getting stressed.”

mike tilted his head. “you’re from around here. you’re used to red carpets and screenings, aren’t you? i didn’t think this would stress out someone as experienced as you.”

he was right, it shouldn’t have stressed you out. you were so used to hiding away for so long that this all felt new to you again like it did when you were eighteen.

mike noticed your expression change, and he turned to you. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything. but you’re worrying me a bit, is everything okay?”

you tried to brush it off. “i’m fine now, really. crowds just get me anxious-”

“i’m not just talking about tonight,” mike said, leaning in towards you. “the world has caught onto your unprecedented disappearance from the public eye. that can never mean anything good. are you sure you’re okay?”

you bit your lip, holding back tears. it was one thing to keep everything to yourself and pack it away and never confront what you’re actually going through, but to hear someone else say it put it into perspective for you. you had completely lost track of your vision and goal in life. you had lost track of you.

mike put his hand on your leg comfortingly, taking the silence and the glossy tears hidden in your eyes as a sign that you weren’t okay. the silent support he sent was exactly what you needed in that moment. a stranger was the person you least expected to comfort you.

before you could both think to say anything else, steven appeared at the front of the crowd and gave a speech, followed by the showing of the movie. every time mike appeared on the screen, you got chills. he was amazing. his performance made you hate riff yet feel some kind of empathy for him. that was due to mike’s spellbinding performance.

occasionally, you would feel mike’s eyes glance at you when important scenes came up. it’s almost as if he wanted to see your reaction. he wanted your approval.

then, after two and a half short hours, the movie ended, and the theater erupted in applause. everyone stood on their feet and you did the same, small tears running down your cheeks. you looked at mike, and his smile dropped when he saw you.

“why are you crying?” he asked.

you sniffled. “it was so amazing. you were so amazing.”

mike turned red, and he reached down to envelope you in probably the best hug you’ve ever had. he had the widest grin, and it wasn’t just from the movie.

you and mike traded numbers, and from that night on, you became inseparable.

*

mike awoke something in you that hadn’t been seen in a long time. he made you feel inspired at motivated and comfortable. you hid yourself away from the world in fear that the public would turn on you, twist your words into something far from the truth. mike dispelled those feelings for you; you felt like yourself again around him.

after the night at the premiere, mike made the first move in wanting to talk to you. you face timed each other for hours each night, staying awake into the early hours of the morning just talking about anything and everything.

you went out for a coffee date a week after the premiere, and it seemed clear to both of you that there was more to be discovered than just a friendship.

as you were walking through central park with mike, keeping your head slightly down as to not attract any unwanted eyes, you boldly brushed your hand against his, letting it linger for a moment. his hand moved away, but creeped back into place when he realized what you were doing. he slowly grazed his finger tips against yours as he walked, and he reached his fingers out and your hand fit neatly into his. you continued to hold hands for the rest of your walk.

when you arrived back at your apartment, you both sat down on the couch, your bodies turned inwards to face each other.

“i feel like i’ve know you my whole life, but its only been a week,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes.

mike smiled lightly. “i’ve never clicked this fast with anyone.”

you both paused, and mike hesitated before he spoke again. “can i ask you a question?”

you nodded, and he went on.

“there’s always been so much speculation about your love life in the media, and dating rumors and whatnot. i don’t like believing anything the media says, but i want to hear it straight from you.”

you smiled to yourself. the media liked to pull things that weren’t actually there and make up stories for fun. you’ve never actually had a real date since you’ve been in the business, let alone a relationship.

“i haven’t found anyone worthy yet.”

mike nodded, scooting closer to you. you could tell he was aiming to put his arm around you, but hesitated to see your reaction. you leaned in, telling him without words that it was okay, and he rested his arm around your shoulder as you laid close to each other. you immediately felt comfortable under his arm.

“i admire you, Y/N. i always have. i like that you know what you want, and that you know yourself. that’s a really great quality to have.”

you blushed, but your happiness faltered. you leaned your head back on his arm. “yeah, i guess. too bad i haven’t felt that way recently.”

mike looked at you, frowning. “why? if you don’t mind me asking.”

you weren’t typically the one to open up quickly to strangers. but mike felt different. he wasn’t going to judge, or make you feel bad about yourself. he was comforting.

“i’ve hid myself away from the world because i’m scared. i’m so insanely scared of messing up and having the whole world turn on me. so, i did the only thing i could think to do. i locked myself away in hopes that it would help,” you giggled nervously. “it didn’t do shit.”

you were smiling at your own misfortune, but mike stayed somber. “i’m sorry, Y/N, that’s awful.”

you shrugged. “yeah, but i did it to myself.”

mike sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. you froze under his touch. “the world needs your brilliance. don’t be afraid, there’s so many people ready to guide you and protect you from anyone trying to take you down. i’m here for you, i promise.”

you bit your lip, unable to say words. mike was so incredibly kind. all you could do was whisper a thank you.

mike put his arm back around you, and you leaned into the couch together. “if there’s anything i can do to help, let me know,” he said quietly.

you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. “you already have.”

mike smiled, turning red. “you’re cute.”

you felt complete. you hadn’t known mike for that long, but he filled a part of your soul that had been gone for a while. he made you feel liked again when you couldn’t like yourself.

you sat up and looked at him. your faces were only a few inches apart. at the same time, you leaned in, and your lips grazed each other before interlocking. it felt euphoric.

you pulled away, remaining close, and you smiled at each other. “you’re the most talented person i’ve ever met,” you whispered to him.

mike lightly placed his hand under your chin. “that means a lot coming from you. i love everything you do.”

you leaned in again, feeling your old self coming back again. you felt renewed. mike made you feel like the star you are again.

you rested your forehead on his. “thank you.”

mike tilted his head slightly. “for what?”

“for making me feel worthy again.”

mike smiled lightly, then gave you a short but sweet kiss. “never forget that you’re beautiful and wanted.”

a small tear escaped your eye. mike was everything you needed. you almost felt in denial that someone like him could be making you feel this way because you were so used to men not valuing you. you were moving fast with mike, but it felt right. you were never one to believe in love at first sight, but this was pretty damn close.

you leaned into his side again, and his hand rested on the back of your head. you could get used to this.

#mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #mike faist imagine #riff #mike faist riff

[yanderecrazysie]

Curiosity (Yandere Tsukishima)

This was a Quotev request!

Title: Curiosity

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing, suggestive themes, non-consensual touching, seriously creepy vibes from Tsukishima

Summary: Tsukishima seems like a normal guy, except that he’s always writing in that journal of his. When you decide to see what he’s up to, you learn that he’s anything but normal.

curiosity

/noun/

a strong desire to know or learn something:

 DAY 1

It’s the first day of school again. (Y/n) looked beautiful as ever today, I missed seeing her in her school uniform. Of course, I’ve been following her around town over the summer, but I missed seeing her in a skirt. This is the last year I see that until I make a move, as I doubt she’ll wear skirts to university.

I’ll do my best to draw what she looks like, since this is a special occasion, but there’s no way my art can do her justice.

Tsukishima Kei was a quiet guy, which, you supposed, was common for smart kids. You hadn’t known him well throughout high school and you doubted you’d have much time to get to know him, since the end of your third and final year was nearly upon you both.

One interesting thing you always noticed is that he was always writing in a journal of sorts, sometimes sketching away in it instead of writing.

You always wondered what it said.

DAY 17

(Y/n) smiled and waved at me today. She does that to everyone, I know, but I couldn’t breathe when she turned her divine attention on me! I felt like, even for a second, I had her undivided attention! I’d do anything, ANYTHING to get that on me again. I’d fucking kill everyone she knows if that means she’ll look at me and only me.

Tsukishima always gave you the distinct vibe that he wanted a friend, especially after his only friend moved away last year, but that he didn’t know how to approach anyone. You sensed a sort of longing when he looked at you and you wondered if your friendliness appealed to his loneliness. Perhaps he was awkward or shy?

You felt bad that you hadn’t had time to talk to him, but life really was just too busy. You always tried to be friendly when you passed him in the halls or made eye contact. 

It was the least you could do.

DAY 33

I love (Y/n) so much that I was willing to dig around in her trash can to find that lip gloss she’d thrown away. How many guys would do THAT for their girlfriends? She only wore it a few times since she didn’t like it very much, but that just meant I had so much of something her precious lips had touched.

I felt like I was in heaven putting it on- like I was kissing her! I had dreams about doing just that and I woke up feeling happier and more refreshed than I had been all year. I need more.

You’d always felt like someone was following you and like your things were disappearing, but you wrote those feelings off as paranoia. Maybe you should take those things seriously, but who had time for that? You were on the student council, an honor student, and preparing for college.

Why didn’t you see the red flags?

Were you really so colorblind?

DAY 52

I went to her house and climbed in through the window. Thank goodness she’s on the first floor.

I went straight to her bed and just laid on it and inhaled her scent from the pillows and blankets. She’s on vacation and I miss her so much, so I really couldn’t help doing all this. It’s her fault for leaving me.

I wonder if she wants our room to look like this or if she has a better one in mind. I’m not a fan of the color but, if she likes it, who am I to disagree? I just want her to be healthy and happy with me. I’ll make her.

You were a naturally curious person. That’s probably why you did so well in school- you had a thirst for knowing why and how that many people your age didn’t care for. You never just wanted to accept things without an explanation. Better to be informed.

Sometimes you were called nosy or told to mind your own business, but you couldn’t help it. You also had a bad habit of eavesdropping and “investigating” on your own. You’d do great in a Nancy Drew book, but it annoyed real-life people.

It’s really no surprise that, when you went to grab Tsukishima’s left-behind notebook, you couldn’t stop yourself from peeking inside and reading some of the entries and looking at the drawings.

DAY 82

I peeked through her window at just the right time and caught her getting undressed for a shower! I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Words can’t describe the experience, so I’ll draw what she looked like instead:

You felt sick. For once, you wished, desperately, that your curiosity was nonexistent. If you could take back everything you’d seen in the last few minutes, you would.

You’d just go off to university, blissfully unaware, and never see that freak ever again. How could he write and draw such things? How could he violate your privacy like that? How dare he-

“You read it, didn’t you?”

The empty classroom went so silent you could hear a pin drop. Your horror felt like metal weighing down your stomach and throat. You couldn’t swallow, you couldn’t breathe.

Tsukishima was right behind you, inching closer each moment, but you couldn’t hope to turn around or run away. You were petrified, rooted in place like you were a statue. A statue with wide eyes and terror etched into your features.

You wanted to claim you hadn’t but the journal was still open in your hands, opened up to a disgusting drawing of yourself and your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from it. Even if you wanted to futilely make up an excuse, your mouth wouldn’t form the words. You couldn’t so much as squeak.

As he stands directly behind you, his hands caress your waist, finger pads sinking deep into the flesh through your shirt. You shudder in disgust, but that’s the most movement your body can even make.

Even as his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt, daringly searching upwards against bare skin, you can’t move or make a sound. You wished you were a fight or flee kind of person and not a freeze.

You feel his lips brush against your earlobe and you violently shudder as he speaks into your ear a few chilling words.

“Don’t you know what curiosity did to the cat?”

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu!! #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere x reader #yandere tsukishima #tsukishima kei

[cultofdixon]

Chaos in Threes

Daryl Dixon [ROMANTIC] | Carol Peletier [PLATONIC] • They/Them Pronouns • You three have always been inseparable since you’ve proven to the world you work better together. You, Daryl, and Carol. But there are always those chaotic moments and hidden matchmaking • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Scars / Anxiety / PTSD / Nightmares

Requested by: Anon

Chaos kind of follows these three…let’s just say. You fuck with one of them? The other two are hunting your ass down.

For example.

“Well well well…coming for your mans?” Negan smirks when he spotted Y/N trying to sneak into the Sanctuary. Or more so his saviors caught them.

“Nah. I’m actually here for a bite”

“A bite?” Negan looks at them confused before watching Y/N full on bite down on Simon’s hand, hard enough to draw blood. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT”

“YOU SON OF A—-“ Simon tried to pull them off but they weren’t budging and it took the other one knocking them out in order for them to release. “SINCE WHEN IS IT OKAY TO FUCKING BITE PEOPLE?!”

Another example

Noah had cornered Y/N aiming his gun at their head to get them to fall to their knees and surrender. He was just a kid he wasn’t going to do anything. He wanted to save his friend from the hell hospital and needed their weapon. Clearly he didn’t communicate that.

Or the crossbow aimed at the back of his head and pistol pressed into his back wouldn’t be currently happening.

“Wanna see what happens when you take them out?” Carol whispers to Noah as he instantly lowers his gun raising his hands.

“That’s what I thought” Daryl scoffs pushing past the two to help Y/N to their feet as they immediately went back down when they spotted a pack of cigarettes in a dead person’s grasp. “Score”

“Son of a bitch won’t be using ‘em.” Y/N laughs taking out a cig for them. “‘Sides. After that moment, I could use one”

We’ve got more examples

Y/N currently had the Kingdom solider in a headlock as their angry grumbling sounded like an angry raccoon trying to get out of a trash can. He tried to tap out but given Daryl’s slightly amused look when he knelt besides the two. He wasn’t going to tell them to stop until the son of a bitch learns his lesson after threatening to give Carol up.

“You look like yer about to pass out Y/N”

“He’s elbowing my lungs.”

“Then let go”

“Fine. But if he tries to hurt our girl, can I set him on fire?”

“You can’t just commit arson like that” Daryl laughs watching them release the guy as he moves away enough for space and to fall into a coughing fit.

“But come on! It’s the goddamn end of the world. Since when do the laws apply?” Y/N states watching Daryl’s face turn into one like he was about to protest but then it lead to confusion. He had to really think about it.

They would do anything for the other in their trio. Even if things changed and life is different.

~

Y/N sat on the steps of the Grimes residence waiting for Daryl to finish checking the oil to their truck so that they can pick up Carol at the Kingdom and go on a run just the three of them.

“Yknow. We can leave their place, take up one of the townhouse apartments” Daryl brought up the option randomly as both he and Y/N were still holding up in Rick and Michonne’s place ever since they first arrived at Alexandria.

“Askin’ for me to move in with yeah?” Y/N smiles feeling a bit of warmth in their chest liking the idea as the tips of Daryl’s ears turned a bright red that they couldn’t tell with his hair in the way.

“Why not” He closes the hood turning toward Y/N while he wiped the grime off his hands.

“Hey I’m not objecting. I should just say a straight yes next time” Y/N smiles rising to their feet picking up their bag along the way.

Daryl took their bag tossing it into the back when he noticed the mattress in the bed of the truck. “You sleep in your truck?”

“If I doze off” Y/N looked into the bed putting their bow in the trunk looking at Daryl being met with a confused look. “I got tired of laying on metal to stargaze at night so I asked Rick if I can take one of the mattresses in the unoccupied houses and he said sure”

“Until we recruit more people”

“Hey don’t rain on my parade or I ain’t movin’ in with yea” Y/N jokes even if Daryl’s mind ran for miles when they said such.

The first few miles was a breeze and Daryl found himself going through Y/N’s cassette collection that they’ve started at the prison. It was one of the few things of theirs that survived.

“Are you actually going to pick one or complain about the one I pick?” Y/N laughs slightly hearing Daryl grumble a bit in response before taking out a mixtape out of the mix and putting it in.

“Carol is better at picking this shit”

“Cuz she has taste” They state turning on the stereo for them to listen to what Daryl picked and it sounded like they were in a biker bar. “That’s uncanny.”

“I think this was the song playing when Merle beat up the bartender” Daryl says out of the blue as Y/N really wanted to question why ‘Bat Out of Hell’ by a band called Meat Loaf would be the right song for Merle violence. But the two were listening to the song that reminded him of his brother. Neither of them said anything.

Until Daryl ejected the cassette.

“I’d rather listen to the musical shit than this”

“I mean you want—-“

“Fuck no”

Y/N snickered to themselves before stopping at the stop sign and going into the metal box to get their go to driving cassette.

“Since when do yea obey the traffic laws?”

“…since always?”

“There ain’t no cops around”

“Ricks a cop”

“I-…Yeah”

“‘Sides. When a deer tried to outrun me, I blew through a few stop signs and ran over a raccoon” Y/N randomly states catching a confused look from Daryl. “What? I got the deer”

“Did yea even notice it was a raccoon you ran over?”

“Why?”

“Could’ve been a person”

“A person doesn’t explode like that” Y/N scoffs turning their music down a bit once they got closer to the Kingdom. “Get her attention”

Daryl took his radio out of his pack and went to chime in for Carol, but next thing to happen was Y/N pressing hard on the horn. Killing walkers drawn by it won’t be difficult. Apologizing to the gate guards, maybe.

“Jesus fucking Christ I’m coming!” Carol yells over the hand radio as Y/N takes it from Daryl.

“Would you rather have me stand on top of the truck with the music blasting and have you pretend it’s a boombox above my head?”

Silence was met. Until a buzz.

“Always”

Y/N turned the music up on their truck before putting the emergency break on and getting out. Next they climbed to the top of their truck which was easy with their window open. As the car shook, so did Daryl’s anxiety.

“If they fall off I’m punching you Carol”

“They actually fucking did it?!”

Her response was right as she stepped outside the gates to find one of her two best friends on top of their truck with their arms up.

“You pretending to hold a boombox?”

“Yeah but I’m also getting tired” Y/N swung their arms down a bit quick as they stepped back and immediately fell into the bed of their truck.

Carol quickly ran over while Daryl in a panic had gotten out the second the truck shifted with the thud and checked with her.

“You’re a fucking idiot”

“You alright?”

Two different sides. Y/N thought followed by a painful laugh. “Least I didn’t land on my bow…or my bag”

“What you’ve got bricks in there?!”

“Nah, just a scotch bottle I’m saving for a special occasion”

“Is a special occasion you almost dying in your own truck? Cuz I sure as hell could use a drink already” Carol scoffs setting her bag and own bow in the trunk before taking the drivers seat hoping speeding through a few streets would distract her. Besides putting one of her go-to cassettes in.

The three usually drive for hours, scavenging a few familiar places and siphoning gas from a few cars. One incident of Y/N beating a tipped over vending machine with a rock until it cracked open. Carol documenting the scene with the Polaroid camera and Daryl trying not to laugh at their struggle.

Once they found a small area to make camp, Carol and Daryl hung out by the fire while Y/N organized their findings so far in their truck. He fiddles with the fork in between his fingers staring down at the can of beans they found while watching Y/N’s every move. How careful they are…how gentle their hands were with the more delicate items…his mind was lost in their every move. He didn’t even notice Carol leaning into his personal space to state the obvious—

“If you love them why haven’t you said anything?” She said at a normal level which triggered Daryl to cover her mouth causing her to smack him to stop. “What? they are just as clueless as you!”

“Don’t mean yea say it out loud!”

“Maybe doing so would finally have the two of you doing somethin’”

Y/N turned toward the two once they finished what they were doing, seeing them bicker. They removed their headphones to listen given their attention hasn’t been noticed yet.

“You like them! Just fucking say somethin’”

“What if they don’t feel the same way?!”

Kind of hard not to Y/N thought feeling the heat flood their face as they sat on the open door knowing the sudden shame of their truck would make enough noise to catch them off guard. But they were quick to collect themselves. “What are you two arguing about?”

They couldn’t help the laugh that build up inside them and failed to stay when they watched both scramble.

“Nothin’ important”

“Oh it was important. He’s just a dumbass”

“Oh…so. Business as usual?” Y/N smirks watching Daryl’s expression go toward more of anger as Carol dies laughing.

Next course for the night was sleeping, Carol took inside the truck on the seats while the two took what’s left of the mattress next to their findings. Neither of them could sleep right away.

“Can I ask a dumb question?”

“So just your usual questions?” Daryl jokes getting elbowed instantly by Y/N as their smile never faded.

“Yea think we would’ve met in the old world?” Y/N questions, not being met with a response as they sigh. “I would hope so”

“How yea think we would’ve met?”

“Well…I was a bartender. It would’ve probably happened or did and we just. Never talked. But even those small glances in a crowded room…you can find who you’ve been looking for your whole life without exchanging a single word”

It was absentminded the way Daryl turned toward Y/N, bringing his gaze away from the stars and on the real constellation prize right beside him. They looked at him with every fiber of love, admiration, and desire in their core feeling the cosmic pull that drew both closer to the other.

Then the sudden knocking on the truck window startled them both out of their current thoughts.

“IM TRYING TO SLEEP LOVEBIRDS” Carol yells making the two blush to the words before straightening out.

But Y/N still took a chance and took Daryl’s hand into theirs. Letting him squeeze theirs and never let go.

Until they got back on the road in the morning.

The three stopped at a warehouse to rummage through the ruins of it. In hopes for pretty much anything. Y/N also being a bit of a tech nerd, was going through every black safety box that would carry expensive tech to see if they can find anything on Eugene’s list he gave them. Carol quietly snuck up on them as she was going to ask them if they could crack open a door on the opposite side of the place when she noticed them staring at Daryl who was keeping watch of the isle the two were in.

“What did you say to him last night?”

“What I wanted to and I heard as much as I wanted from both of you last night”

“So…Can I stop trying to hook you two up together and you can just rip off that bandaid?”

Y/N was about to say something when Daryl whistles for the two’s attention indicating walkers. Carol quickly ran over to see how many and noticed that the entrance they didn’t come in from wasn’t barricaded enough for that size of a herd.

“Y/N we gotta bug out” Carol yells as Y/N quickly collected their things tossing their bag on their back as they held something in the palm of their hand that could slow their movement.

“I’ve got an idea but I need both of y’all out of the building”

“Y/N—-“

“You trust me right?” Y/N frowns looking at Daryl and his stress induced expression.

“I’m coming back for yea if you don’t come out in three minutes” Daryl scoffs quickly running out with Carol as Y/N got to work.

Working with Eugene leads to a lot of ideas. A brand new watering system for their farming plot idea for Alexandria. Or the water based fire extinguishers with reused metal from the fallen walls of Alexandria for Oceanside’s rare forest fires. New defense system to keep walkers out of the outside the wall crops at the Hilltop. Corn based gas for the cars to avoid runs out to siphon cars with limited gas.

Then well. The IEDs.

Y/N figured out how to make quick IEDs that could emit frequencies to distract walkers. But given they were prototypes. Once they placed enough in the building, they made a break for it with a few knife blows to a couple walkers to get out of their way.

“What’s takin’ them so fucking long?!” Daryl snaps as Carol watches the door seeing it swing open to show their third.

“Start the car. They’ll jump in”

“I’m trustin’ yea” He scoffs and pressing on the gas getting them forward as Y/N went in a full on sprint.

Once Y/N jumped onto the open door pulling themselves in enough to close it with the help of a speed bump. They sigh slouching over the edge only to be startled up when an explosion meant to only emit sound—-set the entire building on fire.

“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DID YOU DO?!” Carol snaps looking in the mirror to see the fire they started.

“My calculations were wrong” Y/N yelled for Carol to hear as Daryl looks back to see the damage.

“THE FUCK I TELL YEA ABOUT COMMITTING ARSON?!”

“ITS THE APOCALYPSE I CAN DO WHAT I WANT” Y/N snaps back watching the stop sign fly past. “THE FUCK I SAY ABOUT STOP SIGNS!”

“NOBODY GIVES A FUCK ABOUT TRAFFIC LAWS”

“RICK DOES”

“Ladies ladies!” Carol yells to stop them both as she couldn’t stop laughing at the two arguing with one another. “Save it for the fucking bedroom” and that led to more laughter from the woman.

“Can we fucking open that bottle of scotch now…” Daryl groans once he slowed the truck to a stop.

The two couldn’t contain their laughter upon hearing that.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #carol peletier #carol peletier x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #carol peletier fanfiction

[everlasting-elegy]

Caelus Relationship Headcanons

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers Word Count: 1k TRAILBLAZER FEELING IN THIS HOUSEHOLD RN - CAELUS, WHAT A PRETTY MAN <333 Also first Honkai Star Rail post WOWOWOWOWOWOW A/N: Of course, being the MC there are various interpretations of Caelus’ personality but this is just mine, please enjoy~

Everyone on the Astral Express knew you two were going to be together before you became official. March 7 is very vocal about how she thinks you two look good together, Dan Heng gives just the slightest side-eye when you and Caelus hang out and Pom-Pom will make random complaints that you’re neglecting them for Caelus. Welt and Himeko will also make you two pair up for missions if only a duo is needed - or even for simple errands that could really be done solo

Despite that, it was hard for you to tell that Caelus liked you. He didn’t seem to treat you any differently to March 7 or Dan Heng (save for his tinted cheeks), he had no problem approaching you or interacting with you and he always enjoyed teasing you like a good friend with the rest of the group. It was only when the two of you were alone where the cracks would show, and he just makes terrible small talk as his mind draws blanks and he internally panics

“So… uh, nice weather today, huh?” “Caelus, we’re in space.” “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

When Caelus confessed to you, it was nothing excessive, in fact, he was a little too casual about it. You would usually have dinner together and one evening he started stuttering, saying he knew a fancy place to eat and that it could double up as a date. You needed him to repeat himself because you didn’t see it coming

While Caelus isn’t excessively loud or boisterous, he still carries himself with confidence and can dish out some good banter. Your relationship is full of those sorts of antics but when it comes to more serious and intimate moments, he gets shy very quickly. He’s not experienced with relationships and he can’t imagine anything worse than accidentally upsetting you. He’s the type to ramble on when uncertain, narrating his stream of consciousness until not even he could remember what he was originally going to say. Wake him out of his stupor with a kiss and he’ll be back in the moment with you (he still can’t remember what he wanted to say, though)

Caelus is your #1 fan, that man is rooting for you for everything. You need him for support in a fight? His weapon is at the ready. You want him around to help you study? He’s not the best at staying quiet but he tries his damn hardest for you. Do you need a break from any activity? Caelus is running in with a towel and refreshments and asking if you need anything else as he gives you a shoulder massage

Despite Caelus being very protective, he will never stop you if you want to do something dangerous such as joining him in battle. He wants to see you flourish and grow, and if that means being in harm’s way, then at least let him join you as your shield so that you two can get through this challenge together. For you, he’s ride or die, and to be fair that strategy has worked perfectly for the two of you so far

“One man’s trash is a Trailblazer’s treasure”; Caelus will bring back many trinkets for you from his travels, so much so that one wall of your room is just covered in his gifts. If they are indeed fished out from a trash can you won’t be able to tell, he loves to tinker and polish items until they’re unique and personalised just for you - you only deserve the best

No matter how frequently he’s gifted you little items, Caelus acts as though it’s the first time. He tries to play it off as something casual, that you shouldn’t think about the gift too much and he doesn’t mind if you’re not keen on it, but his face is bright red, one hand is nervously scratching the back of his neck and he can’t look you in the eyes

Caelus isn’t excessive on the PDA, but he’s still always touching you. He’ll gladly walk around holding hands and swinging arms or linking arms, or having his arm draped across your shoulders, and you’re not safe from pecks on the face and lips. He also loves to give hugs as a greeting and goodbye. He has no problem initiating affection but whenever you do you can literally see him perk up like a meerkat and walk around with a hop in his step. If you ever flirt or compliment him he gives back the sweetest, beaming smile that seems to contain the light of an entire Stellaron

Caelus is a bit of a gacha - and just general mobile games - addict, but he’ll always wait on pulling on the banner or opening a loot box until you’re with him. You’ve become his lucky charm and even though he only games to pass the time when there’s nothing to do, it’s not as fun if you’re not playing with him or at least watching and commentating

Sometimes you can liken Caelus to a puppy. If he’s bored or has nothing to do he’ll just… follow you around as you do your thing. If you need to enter a building alone or talk personally with someone, you can first expect him to get pouty before relenting and loitering around where you are outside. Whenever you enter the same room as him, expect him to immediately gravitate towards you

He’s an absolute nightmare when you two are separated, you’re not going to be able to go for five minutes without your phone vibrating about updates on the Astral Express and how lonely he is without you around and how you need to hurry up and finish what you need to do and- oh, Himeko just gave him permission to join you, give him fifteen minutes and you guys can spend the day together~

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Honkai Star Rail Masterlist (TBA)

#caelus x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr caelus x reader #hsr x reader #hsr caelus #trailblazer x reader #gn!reader #honkai star rail imagines #everelegy writes #everelegy honkai

[transvampireboyfriend]

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

A few joints and some charades rounds later, they all start yawning.

The night gets cold and they start walking back to the cabin.

Argyle and Nance go first, complaining that it's too cold for them to keep trying to guess or make hand gestures themselves. They grab their trash bag and head back.

The fire burns down into embers as the rest of them play a last round of charades.

The game turns into a music discussion and then that turns into Steve and Eddie sharing music with each other, discussing  the albums their moms played when they were little, while Jonathan and Robin excitedly discuss music instruments and how they first learned to read music sheets.

They don't even notice that Robs and Jon get up to leave until Robin calls back to Steve.

"You better not be too loud when you come back, Dingus, I'm going straight to bed" she says,

It's her way of saying 'we're leaving, so you and Eddie can be alone'.

Steve loves her so much. He gives her two thumbs up and she laughs.

"You know I never imagined our musical meeting point would be Billie Holiday," Eddie muses, not moving from his place next to Steve,

Steve's smile grows wider and he tears his eyes away from Robin to turn back to Eddie.

"I feel like it makes sense" Steve says,

"Yeah?" Eddie asks.

His chocolate eyes roam Steve's face and Steve is reminded of him doing the same thing that week when they (officially) met, Eddie's mouth smiling around his name and making Steve's heart skip a beat.

"Yeah. Somehow." Steve says, thinking of songs that are way too romantic for him to be thinking about right now.

Eddie smiles too, his nose is all red from being outside all day and Steve wants to touch it, wants to feel the little bit of sun that now lives in his skin. Instead, he basks in being the sole focus of his attention.

He sees Eddie's eyes drift up, where his bandana is still sitting against Steve's hair.

"Do you need it back?" Steve asks, "Do you have an emotional connection to this thing?" he teases,

Eddie snickers, "If I didn't before-" he trails off,

Steve feels butteflies flutter about his stomach, he tries to hide his giddiness and elbows Eddie's side.

Eddie laughs and sways with it before he straightens up again,

"No, but, what I was thinking was-" Eddie starts, reaching up to tug on the scrunchie that he's wearing, letting his hair fall down to his shoulders again.

Steve's smile fades as he watches the strands fall around him, Eddie is so pretty, Steve wants to comb his fingers through his hair, use it to tilt his head back. He catches a whiff of strawberry shampoo and tries to stop himself from eagerly breathing it in.

"Since you seem so happy grabbing my things," Eddie's saying, "maybe you could take care of this for me?"

He holds the scruchie up and doesn't wait for an answer, grabbing one of Steve's wrists.

His fingers are warm against Steve's cooling skin.

"Nance would kill me if I lose it, so it's important that I don't." Eddie explains, placing the accessory on Steve's wrist and holding it there,

"Do you think I could trust you with it?" Eddie asks, his eyes finding Steve's again.

His eyes draw Steve in, he feels hypnotized and the question feels weighted, like Eddie's not just talking about the scrunchie.

Steve feels like he's standing at the edge of a precipice, he's always let himself fall in way too deep, way too fast. But somehow, now, with Eddie, it doesn't feel like a dangerous thing.

Enough time has passed that he trusts Eddie. Really, he did since the beginning, but now, Steve feels like he knows him, and trusts what he knows of him, and he wants Eddie to trust him too.

He licks his lips and answers "Yeah. You can." his voice is weighed down by the significance of what they're saying and he hopes his half-whisper lets Eddie know he means it, for this and for anything else he might be asking.

Eddie half-smiles, a small thing that Steve's never seen before and feels sweeter than all the s'mores they've eaten tonight.

"Thank you." Eddie whispers, leaning into the space between them almost imperceptibly, but Steve notices.

He realizes he's smiling back and leans in too, their shoulders brushing. They're both focused on the others' lips, breathing shallowly, and just as Steve's about to close the distance,

"Guys! can you bring back the popcorn bowls?" Nancy yells from the cabin,

Startled, they both immediately jump apart.

Steve clears his throat so hard he ends up coughing a little.

Eddie sighs heavily.

"Would've thrown them into the fucking fire, if we still had one," he grumbles under his breath,

Steve snorts and feels his cheeks burning up as he chuckles. Eddie looks at him and joins in.

"GUYS!" it's Jonathan this time, making them both jump in their seats again.

"Yuh-huh! Coming!" Eddie yells back, he turns to Steve and shakes his head, rolling his eyes like they're the most annoying thing to ever happen to him.

Steve loves his theatrics. He bites his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Finally, Eddie gets up from his seat, picks up the bowls and looks at Steve again.  When he finds him beaming, Eddie winks. Steve wants to melt into the ground.

"Come on," Eddie says, jerking his head to the side,"before they come drag us by the ears,"

Steve huffs. He wipes his hands on his thighs, trying to sober up.

When he stands up and grabs their cooler, Eddie extends a hand out to him, an uncertain look on his face.

Steve doesn't hesitate to take it, interlacing their fingers together.

⋆ * ⋆🌙 ⋆ * ⋆

Eddie feels a current of energy go through him when Steve interlaces their fingers.

He feels jittery with it, wants to swing their hands back and forth, but settles for swiping his thumb over Steve's wrist as they walk, his finger softly jostling the scrunchie he put there earlier.

After a few paces, Steve subtly steps closer to Eddie. His sleeves are still rolled up all the way and Eddie can see him shivering a bit.

"You cold?" Eddie asks,

"Mmhm." Steve confirms, "Why? are you gonna throw another vest at me?"

It catches Eddie off guard, startles a laugh out of him and leaves Steve looking so smug, squeezing their hands.

"I'm not sorry," Eddie says, "you wore that thing for hours,"

Steve grins, "Still do." he counters, his smile is so bright, Eddie can't get enough of it.

"Hmm," Eddie nods, "it looks good on you", he adds,

Steve looks up at him and their eyes get stuck together for a few steps.

Until Eddie has to go and trip over nothing.

"Fuck." Eddie mutters under his breath, immediately jumping into a wide stance so he won't bring them both tumbling down.

"Oop. Careful" Steve says at the same time, extending the hand holding the cooler in front of them to prevent Eddie from falling over.

Steve looks at his stance then, and apparently finds it funny, "Are you okay?" he asks, his honeyed eyes telling on the laugh he's holding back.

Eddie softly yanks on their joined hands in protest but can't help the smile that mirrors Steve's.

"Don't. Laugh at me." Eddie chuckles,

"I'm not! " Steve laughs,

Eddie shakes his head and resumes their walk, dragging Steve along by their joined hands.

Steve catches up quickly, now boldly pressing their sides together.

"Almost there" Eddie tells him, feeling a bit helpless because he was gonna offer his jacket, but now he feels silly.

"I think I'll make it" Steve whispers, copying Eddie's earlier motion, rubbing his thumb against Eddie's palm.

His skin is so soft and warm, it makes Eddie want to drag Steve's hand up and place it against the back of his own neck. He tries not to shiver at the thought.

When they get to the cabin, Eddie opens the door for Steve and is rewarded by a squeeze of his hand before Steve lets go.

Steve's amber eyes shine in the front porch's yellow light and he whispers a small 'thank you' as he goes in before Eddie.

Eddie thinks if Steve doesn't stop being so sweet, his heart is gonna fly out of his chest.

part 8

#class‚ i would like to direct your attention to the fact that Eddie almost fell on his ass and they never let go of each other's hands <3 #you don't know how bad I want them to kiss #steddie #steve x eddie #steveddie #steddie lake fic #steddie headcanon #stranger things #. #if you're not already a fan of Billie you should become one

[thetfer]

You, anon-sect, were going about your usual routine of going to the gym and hanging out with friends. After several hours in the hot sunshine, you decided to head home. Taking a seat on the train home, you heard the pleading cries of the transformed victims trapped on your feet. You had seriously abused them today, but they were just your socks and shoes, so you didn't care. Your feet were sweating like crazy, forcing both socks and shoes to absorb it all. As you wiggled your toes within them, you could tell the shoes didn't have long left before they were completely trashed.

Looking around the train car, you noticed a perfect target to TF into new ones just a few feet away from you. He was a muscular looking stud with a handsome face that you were dying to step on as an insole. The stud was also completely distracted by his phone, making it even easier to TF him without him even realizing that he's screwed. This made your cock very hard.

Sliding yourself up the row towards him, you subtly eyed him up, imagining how comfortable he was gonna be on your feet. You pulled out the TF device and set the program to “SHOES/PERMANENT”. After making sure no one was watching, you pulled the trigger on it and fired the device at the guy. There was a bright flash of light, and as it died down, Anon-sect, you expected to see your new shoes sitting on the seat in front of you, but somehow…someway, the muscular guy was still there, completely untouched by the transformation beam. This was more than confusing for you, you had done this so many times in the past. At this point, you had probably transformed hundreds of innocent lives, irreversibly reshaped into any object you deemed them to be. No one had ever resisted the effects of your device up till this point, it was outright impossible for this guy to still be human.

You pondered what might've gone wrong, looking over the device best you can without drawing too much attention. You were angry, no, Furious that he had survived your shot, so when he started chatting with you, it took everything in you to not blow up at him.

“Hey, did your little toy break? Aww, that sucks man…”, the guy across from you spoke up, sounding exactly like the dumb ‘Jock Bro’ he appeared to be. There was a hint of sympathy in his voice, which you had to hold your breath at to keep from laughing. You had just tried to turn him into your permanent footwear, and he was saddened by your perceived “broken toy”? It made you wonder, if you told him what you had planned on doing to him, would he apologize for failing to become your shoes? Man, this guy is such an easy target, it almost felt cruel…

“No, it's not broken. It's also not a toy, but if I told you what it really was, I'd have to, in a literal sense,  put a foot in your mouth”, you snapped back at him, smirking slightly at your own sly word play and continued trying to suss out the fault in the device.

The guy had a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he seemed to catch on to something, “Uh…ohhh, like some kind of secret project? Aw, that's pretty cool man! I've actually got my own secret project goin’, wanna see!?”, 

This guy was starting to annoy you, but not to seem suspicious, you looked up at him, faining curiously.

The guy looked overjoyed to see you interested in his so called “secret project”. He excitedly turned his phone towards you and showed you the image that was on the screen. “I snapped a pic of these awesome shoes that I want, am just waitin’ on them realizing they're supposed to be there”. Despite his obvious luke-warm IQ, it was hard not to be indeered to this guy. You were ready to write him off as a dumb meathead that would soon be imprisoned on your feet…until you actually looked at the picture on his phone. It showed a pair of white coloured High-Top sneakers, with red and black accents. You had to agree, they did look pretty awesome…however, the picture depicted the shoes on the floor of the train car, the exact same one you were in…then you realized what kind of phone this guy had…it was a TF phone.

You started to feel extremely lightheaded, your surroundings spinning rapidly around you. You looked down at your own TF device and your mistake was flashing right in your face. “Please Confirm Your Settings” was displayed on its screen. You had forgotten to press confirm, and without doing that, the device would never have fired…which meant that the bright flash of a TF beam didn't come from your device after all, but instead it came from the Muscular Jock Bro's phone!

Looking up at him in horror, you slid off your seat and landed with a thud on the floor right by the guy's nasty, beat-up gym sneakers.

“Yo, what you doin’ on the floor man…? Oh, wait! Are you tryna catch a whiff of ma feets? That's kinda weird Bro, my feet really stink, but, I guess it ain't hurtin’ no one…”, and with a confused, but friendly smile, the guy kicked off his sneakers and pressed his hot, stinky, sweat-soaked socked feet right against your face. “Oh, by the way, ma names Chad! I would ask for your name, but, I don't think shoes deserve names…”, despite retaining his air-headed bubbly himbo tone, the last line he spoke had a sinister edge to it, revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You had become completely paralyzed shortly after landing on the floor, so you could do nothing as the guy shoved his stinking,  rancid feet in your face. Was this karma…? Was the universe torturing you like this as a form of revenge on behalf of all your former victims? This was the only explanation that made sense to you. How else could you have forgotten such a simple step like press confirm on your settings, you've done that a million times! All you could do was sniff, Chad's putrid, toxic foot stink no doubt speeding up the transformation process as you felt a strange sensation in your skin.

“Uh…hey Bro!”, the guy called down to you, pretending badly to sound concerned, “you don't look so good, man…it looks like you'returnin’ whit! Are ma feets too stinky for ya!? Aw, am so sorry, Man”, his tone was dripping with sarcasm, and even worse, you could spot a very visible bulge pressing against his sweats…he was enjoying this.

His feet were so rancid,  but they were the least of your concerns. With pleading eyes, you looked up at him, begging, praying he would stop this…but the look of pleasure on his face told you that was never going to happen. As he gently stroked the sizable bulge in his pants, you felt your skin get tighter, squeezing out a few tears from your eyes…you didn't want this, you didn't want to be some guy's shoes! This guy was supposed to be your shoes!! As you felt a mix of fear and anger, your transformation seemed to accelerate, causing intense pain and discomfort as your body began to contort and reshape into its new form.

Staring down at you, the guy was now smirking, excited as he watched this happening to you. “Yo!!! Bro!!!! You're ma fuckin’ shoes now!!! Hahaha, pathetic loser!!!“, the guy eagerly watched as your horrific transformation was finalized, leaving you looking exactly like the picture on his phone.

Wasting no time, the guy pulled you onto his feet, your face instantly being squashed beneath his hot smelly foot. “Oh man, you feel so good on me, so comfortable!”, he remarked, pressing his foot down hard against your insole face.

This was Hell…not only were his feet fucking toxic, but the guy himself was a huge mound of muscle, weighing at least 400 pounds. However, your situation quickly changed from bad to worse when he pulled on the other shoe. From your experience with TFing people, you obviously knew the face became one of the insoles, but you never could figure out what formed the other insole…until now.

As Chad pulled on the other shoe, you could feel his sweaty toes sliding along your dick, before his heel settled down on top of your balls…this sensation made you want to cum so hard, but you couldn't, your cock was an insole. This orgasmic pleasure soon intensified as Chad played with the shoe on his foot, as if he knew your penis was now its insole. Pleasure turned to pain as there was no way to release the tension. 

“Oh please…please let me cum…oh god it hurts!!! Just let me cum, please god let me cum!!!”, you mentally begged, screamed and cried, but to release came. You were locked in eternal orgasm for the rest of your life!

“Oh f-fuck…”, that was the last thought you had before his full weight crushed down on your privets. You were in agony, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

As for the muscular guy, he couldn't help but admire the quality of his new shoes! They felt high end, and super comfortable. Testing them out with a stroll up and down the train car, he found that the shoes would contract around his feet with each step, almost as if the shoes were giving his feet a massage as he walked. “Man, it was awesome of you to turn into my shoes! Am gonna wear you everyday Bro, especially to the gym! You're ma new favorite pair now!”, he excitedly informed you, mercilessly wiggling his big thick toes on you.

You screamed at the thought of that. Everyday!? There was no way you could mentally survive that! You began to cry and plead, begging to be turned human again, but it never came. You would live out the rest of your existence on his feet, smelling, tasting and feeling every second of it at 10000X the insanity of a normal human. 

Chad kept his word and wore you every single day, and to torture you even further, he also never changed his sock either. Eventually, you would begin to rot on his feet, his rancid sweat dissolving your shoe bodies. First to go was your insole cock. Chad's sweat had quickly stained it a deep orange, and once that happened, the integrity of your insole cock rapidly deteriorated with searing, blinding pain. You thought your mind was going to burn up…in fact, you hoped it would…unfortunately it stayed intact, forcing you to feel you cock and balls rot away beneath Chad's foot. Next was your face, you could both smell and taste yourself rotting, but you never died. Chad simply threw you in a closet with the rest of his rotting sneakers, leaving you to your fate in pain and agony as shoes, forever!

This is a post requested by @anon-sect Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Go check out @anon-sect and enduldge in his amazing TF stories!!

#inanimate transformation #permanent tf #inanimate tf #shoe tf #thank you #jock feet #tf story #tf caption #clothing tf

[ohbo-ohno]

Hello my dear! I am obsessed with your Ghoap x reader content, checking you blog on the daily 💕

I have had this thought stuck in my head for days, as lots of fall themed drinks and decor is popping up around me. Not sure if this fits with your vision, but thought I would at least share!

I imagine that the reader being confined to the apartment, without any access to the outside world, would really mess with her like internal clock, especially during the first few months. So I think that they might lose the sense of seasons changing until like one of the boys comes home with a to-go coffee cup with a fall pattern on it. The reader taking notice of this detail and gets excited to see something festive from the outside world maybe evening picking the cup up to take a closer look, but dropping it quickly if questioned about it. The reader suddenly processing how much time they have been held here and how the outside world just keeps going without them.

Ghost noticing the reader’s interest in the cup and making sure to stop at the same place the next day try. Hoping to collect more data or something. Coming home with the same cup again and upon seeing the readers interest, reminds them that if there is anything they want they just have to ask.

The reader seems like they want something, but just mumble something like “it’s stupid, just leave it alone” still not wanting to let them really take care of them. Soap reminder them that if it is import to the reader it’s important to them. with comforting from both of the boys they finally manage to get the reader speak up saying something like “if you stop at that place again, I wouldn’t a pumpkin hot chocolate”Soap immediately grabbing his coat to go get them one.

Thinking how this little interaction might lead to them suggesting other fun fall activities. (maybe not carving pumpkins though unsure if Simon would let the reader have a knife at this point haha)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed 💕

-🎃(if not taken already)

hello anon i love you!!!!!

hngggg ghost and soap wandering through a hobby lobby and just chucking every fall themed thing they can in their cart bc they have no idea what kinds of decorations you like. you go red in the face trying to hold back laughs when johnny proudly presents you with a "happy fall, y'all!" throw pillow

also the potential angst of them trying to recreate your favorite festivities inside with you :( you're torn between just letting go and enjoying what they let you do and staying angry because you should be doing these things out there.

drawing a design on a pumpkin and pouting when ghost carves it for you. they comfort you by saying you're having a contest, you and ghost against johnny, and ghost tries his best to get you into it with trash talk. maybe you giggle a little at the insults thrown back and forth, despite your determination to remain stoic. you and ghost win and you refuse to think about johnny letting you, instead choose to rub it in his face how much better your pumpkin is

#asks and answers #dlmliyh #🎃 anon

[anon-e-miss]

The Desert Blooms - 9

“Where’d ya find the moonstone,” Ricochet asked. He and Jazz had not spoken about it but they seemed to be on the same wavelength so far as their “matches” were. Ricochet could not disagree with Ori’s subtle manoeuvring. The prince would suit Jazz better than the hot-helm and Ricochet supposed the hot-helm would suit him better than the stoic prince. Discovering Barricade’s interest in carving was a boon.

“A scrap heap,” Barricade replied. “Someone got a long way in carving a brick before they found a fissure.

“Barricade is forever searching scrap heaps for useful stones,” Prowl replied.

“Ya carve the table ‘n chairs?” Ricochet asked.

“Yes,” Barricade replied. “The Duke sent the granite from Praxus.”

“Did ya wanna see where ya can find some bigger pieces to work wit?” Ricochet asked.

“The private hoard Punch mentioned?” Barricade asked.

“Ori’s been tellin’ tales,” Ricochet exclaimed, with a chuckle. “Ain’t really my hoard. ‘M sure ‘m not the only carver that goes down there.

“Down where?” Barricade asked.

“Caves,” Ricochet said. “Most Polyhexian cities are mostly underground, outta the elements, except for businesses o’ trade ‘n the like. Ya seen how Darkmount is sorta in a bowl? That’s cause the walls o’ the main cavern collapsed. The smaller ones were abandoned outta... convenience? Who knows.”

“I do have something big I’d like to work on,” Barricade confessed.

“Great.”

Ori beamed and Ricochet rolled his optics behind his visor. Barricade was already standing before Ricochet thought he out to offer him a servo. He had been raised in camps and caves cut into the cliffs, not the court and he had no courtly manners. Jazz came to it naturally. His charm would make up for any misteps. Ricochet was rougher around the edges and with none of the charm. It would be Jazz who would lead the way when, eventually, envoys came to call, Ricochet thought he would do less damage if he smiled and nodded. Barricade may not have emerged to the Duke but he had been raised in his home a long time. Though how Praxian manners really translated in Polyhex’s court, Ricochet did not know. He tried to think of something to say but empty prattle had never been his thing.

“This way,” Ricochet scowled to himself as he realized these were the first glyphs he had spoken in the breams they had been walking. Barricade’s red optics narrowed. “Y’re fine. ‘M just thinkin’ I ain’t been much o’ a guide.”

“Oh?” Barricade asked.

“Well I outta be tellin’ ya where we’re walkin’,” Ricochet said. “What all this ‘n that is.”

“I don’t mind silence,” Barricade replied. “I grew up with Prowl.”

“He ain’t chatty?” Ricochet asked.

“He can be,” Barricade said. “If something interests him. You’ll see how he is eventually. When he gets into his own helm, he goes down deep. Whether he’s gardening, painting or just sitting at the same time, he only comes back up in his own time.”

“Ya don’t mind it,” Ricochet said.

“It’s how he is,” Barricade replied. “Enough mecha hate him for drawing breath, I figured as his brother, the least I could do is work with him.”

“How’d he react when the Duke brought ya home?” Ricochet asked.

“He took care of me,” Barricade replied.

***

“They did not even wait for the rent to come due,” Barricade peered up from under the box he was using to shield himself from the rain and saw an elegantly armoured mech, wearing a heavy velvet cloak looking down at him, sitting amongst the trash in the alley next to the boarding house he and his origin had lived, where his origin had died. Barricade scowled at the well-spoken stranger. The way his armour was cut reminded Barricade of his progenitor and he hated this mech on sight.

“What do you want?” He hissed. The stranger knelt in the puddle in front of him and pulled back his hood. Like Origin, the stranger’s faceplates were gold, though his optics were blue.

“I am designated Camshaft; your progenitor was my consort,” the mech said. Everything amount the mech, down to his accent, was so fine, unlike Barricade. “I found the letter you wrote him, telling of your originator’s death. He has passed as well. I am here to take you home, Barricade.”

“Home?” Barricade asked. “They kicked me out.”

“So I see,” Camshaft replied. “I will send someone to collect a refund on the rent remaining for this quartex. No, Barricade, I am taking you to my home, yours now as well.”

“I don’t understand,” Barricade said.

“I will explain,” Camshaft said. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around Barricade before picking him up. “My carriage is close.”

Origin had always told Barricade to be weary of strangers, even well armoured ones, but origin was gone. Barricade wrapped his arms around Camshaft’s neck and his legs around his waist. He shivered, the rains had soaked into his protoform. The strange mech crooned to him as he carried him down the block. Rain drenched Camshaft but he did not seem to care. He only paused a moment to pull the hood better over Barricade’s helm, shielding his faceplates from the rain. Barricade heard a scandalized gasp. Camshaft made no sound at all. Head heard doors creak as they were pulled open. When Camshaft set him down, Barricade pulled back the hood, far too big for his helm and looked around as the stranger climbed into the carriage with him.

“Take us home,” he ordered the coachmech. He turned to Barricade and gave him a soft look. “You are soaked to the struts, poor thing. Turn up the heat.”

“Where are we going?” Barricade asked. Hot air blasted all around him and Barricade was warm.

“To my home,” Camshaft replied. “I live on an estate in Petrex with my mechling, Prowl. You are his brother and thus you are mine so you will live with us now.”

“But... I’m just a bastard,” Barricade said. “I’m not even your bastard.”

“The only bastard in all of this was your progenitor,” Camshaft declared. Barricade could not argue that point.

At first, Origin had just had a little cough, something he had said, he figured, he had picked up backstage. But then the coughing had gotten so bad Origin’s armour rattled with the force of it and at the same time as he had spiked a fever, a rash had appeared on his chassis. His vocalizer had swollen so much he could not speak. Barricade had tried to fetch a medic but Origin had not been paid for his last performance. He had gone to the hall but the manager had said he had deducted fees because Origin had failed to appear for the last few shows. Only after exhausting these avenues had Barricade written to his progenitor, a mech he had only seen three times in his whole life. He had only answered once, to tell him his whore of an origin was not his concern. No matter how much Barricade had begged in letter after letter, he never sent a shanix, or another glyph. No medic had come, no matter how much he had begged them, no priest either, not even when Origin had ventilated his last.

“I am so sorry, Sweetspark,” Camshaft said as he wiped a tear from Barricade’s faceplates.

“They wouldn’t give him Last Rites,” Barricade cried. He wriggled out of he cloak so he could climb off of his bench and into Camshaft’s arms. “They didn’t want to catch it.”

“We will build your originator a shrine,” Camshaft promised as he stroked Barricade’s helm. “And we will light his path to the well.”

“Promise?” Barricade asked.

“I promise,” Camshaft said.

Barricade believed him. There was something about Camshaft, something different than his progenitor, that made Barricade feel like his glyphs were true. He set his helm on the stranger’s shoulder and closed his optics. Camshaft hummed and the lullaby, along with the rocking of the carriage, lulled Barricade into recharge. Sometime later he woke to the carriage rolling to a stop. Camshaft stroked his back and hummed a reassuring note. Soon the carriage was on the move again and Barricade looked out the window to see that they were riding down a long drive. Fields covered in wild blooming crystals stretched further than Barricade could see. When they came to a stop again, Barricade could not see the habsuite but he imagined it was huge. The doors opened and a coachmech stood in the opening.

“I’ll take him to the servants quarters,” the mech said.

“You will not,” Camshaft declared. “Barricade will live in the nursery with Prowl.”

“But that is... scandalous...”

“I am the Duke of Petrex,” Camshaft replied. “This is my estate and my household. I will manage it as I will. Let it be known to my staff, Barricade is equal to Prowl and should I find out he is being treated in any way less, there will be Pit to pay.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the coachmech said, bowing low. Barricade looked up at Camshaft... highness?

“Good,” Camshaft said. “Come along, Barricade. It is time for you to meet your brother.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Barricade replied. Camshaft smiled down at him.

“You do not need to address me as so,” he replied. “I am Camshaft. I am your caretaker. I am not your lord. Do you understand?”

“No,” Barricade replied. He really did not.

“That is alright,” Camshaft said. “You will.”

“You are back, Originator,” a new voice spoke. A mech Barricade’s age with a silver face and the Duke’s blue optics stood on the steps of the grandest home Barricade had ever seen. It must have been as long as the whole block Barricade had lived on.

“Yes, Prowl, I have brought you your brother,” Camshaft explained. “By your progenitor. He is designated Barricade.”

“Hello Barricade,” Prowl greeted Barricade. He had a funny tone. His accent was similar to Camshaft but different... almost flat. Barricade stood very still as the Duke’s creation walked down the steps at stops in front of him. Prowl looked Barricade up and down and then looked up to his originator and back down again. “You were caught in the rains, Barricade. I will draw you a bath and fetch some tea.”

***

“Just like that?” Ricochet asked.

“Camshaft said I was his brother and so in Prowl’s processor, it was so,” Barricade explained. “There were servants, of course there were servants but Camshaft mostly had them barred from the nursery. He, we, kept it up. The only servants allowed in were tutors and Camshaft kept a close optic on them.”

“Why?” Ricochet asked.

“Because he could never be sure who might be one of his brothers’ or originator’s assassins,” Barricade explained.

“Assassins?” Ricochet gasped. “They wanted your brother dead so bad.”

“Fratricide is the family business,” Barricade explained. “The first time Camshaft’s elder brother tried to kill him, he was a first tier sparkling and his brother a second tier. It did not get better as they got older and more brothers were added.”

“Fraggin’ Pit,” Ricochet gasped. “The Emperor is okay with this?”

“It’s tradition,” Barricade explained. “The strongest and smartest survives over his brothers to become emperor.”

“That’s insane,” Ricochet declared. “Ain’t sorry to say that… That’s just crazy.”

“It is,” Barricade agreed. “Camshaft stayed in his dukedom, he still does, versus court. It’s been a long time since they tried anything.”

“They don’t think he’s a threat?” Ricochet asked.

“No, they’re all terrified of him,” Barricade explained. “The last time he had to dine with them, he put every one of them into stasis with a bit of poison. When they came back on line, all hungover as Pit, he warned them to leave him be or the next time they wouldn’t wake up. The Emperor was furious.”

“Why?” Ricochet asked.

“Because poison is the coward’s way,” Barricade said. “And if he was going to go and do it, he should have at least done it properly and wiped them all out.”

“But he didn’t,” Ricochet said.

“He doesn’t want power,” Barricade said. “Not anymore than he has as Duke of Petrex. He loathes the court, loathes the tradition. He would have had a whole gaggle of sparkling but he only had Prowl because he didn’t want his creations pitted against each other.”

“He probably thought bringin’ ya home was a blessin’,” Ricochet said.

“That’s what he told me,” Barricade replied.

“He sounds like a good mech,” Ricochet declared.

“I’ve never met a better one,” Barricade replied.

There was love there, as deep and as loyal a love as Barricade had for his brother. Ricochet did not understand why he would not go home but then he supposed in their situation, nothing could convince Ricochet to leave Jazz’s side. Barricade and the prince might not have been twins or even full brothers, they had a powerful bond. It was something Ricochet could respect. He took Barricade’s servo and guided him over the rubble that partially barred the mouth of the cave. Barricade was sure of ped, the doorwings probably did not heard so far as balance went. He clicked his glossa as they descended into darkness, with only their headlights to light the way. Having evolved for low-light environments, Ricochet saw as clearly in the tunnel as he did on the surface, once he retracted his visor. Barricade clicked his glossa and walked along at Ricochet’s side as sure of ped as ever.

“Click,” Barricade clicked his glossa and walked along.

“What’re ya doin’?” Ricochet asked.

“Echolocation,” Barricade said.

“I didn’t know Praxians could do that,” Ricochet replied.

“Most can’t,” Barricade replied. “Camshaft taught us.”

“Sounds like the two o’ ya got an eclectic education,” Ricochet replied.

“That’s a good way to put it,” Barricade said.

“Here we are,” Ricochet replied.

“What am I looking at?” Barricade asked. “Since I don’t actually see anything.”

“Roots,” Ricochet explained. He lit a lamp and held it up. “From the trees that topped the oasis that used to sit above the cave.”

“Nice,” Barricade said. He ran his servos over a broken crystal root. Barricade took the lantern from Ricochet and studied the roots all around him. “Hmm.”

“What’re ya lookin’ to make?” Ricochet asked.

“A cradle for the bitlet,” Barricade said. “So if you have optics for something for a loftier project just tell me now.”

“I don’t,” Ricochet replied. “‘N anyways, makin’ a cradle seems like a pretty worthy purpose for any o’ these crystals.”

#valveplug #maccadams #anon-e-miss writes #tf barricade #tf ricochet #mechpreg #non consensual body modification #the desert blooms

[golby-moon]

I have zero self-control when it comes to creature!cas in any form so I saw a selkie!cas option for the @deancaspinefest and all other thoughts ceased to exist uh

I tried a mix of two styles for this fic's art by combining my usual thick black outlines with the crayon pen on Flipaclip to create layered colors, as per my author's request. this let me do almost like a children's story book vibe here but I think that's just the name of the pen talking. either way look seal Cas hdhfndi (and my attempt at drawing a boat but ignore that as well as the weirdly tiny credits)

here's Dean rescuing Cas who looks like he just woke up from a nap or something there. Dean's expression looked better before I erased half of it to make room for Cas' head and I'm now unsure what face Dean's really supposed to be making beyond exertion meets determination. I originally had a lighter blue sky here (as well as in the banner) but the author assures me the sky in Scotland only comes in grey, which has the added bonus of making this whole atmosphere a little more tense

it took me forever to get a decent angle for this one it was just weirdly impossible for no reason and I only got this after trashing six other partially complete sketches and it still looks kinda weird but it was unexpectedly impossible trying to get a view where you can see Dean and Cas. also just now realizing that the pipe on the showerhead leads nowhere oops

*obligatory image of Dean falling in the water while marine flavored creature!cas saves him (or, well, looks at him ig)*

still very bad at drawing water but an attempt was made though Dean's pose could be better and Cas looks too small to really be able to swim Dean back to shore. let's just ignore...all of that uh. I intentionally made Dean's outfit here symbolic and all that. in the other pics, he's wearing reds and greys but now he's wearing a tan not unlike Cas' trench coat (albeit darker) and his flannel is a mixture of blue and green, representing both the ocean and ofc him and Cas (desitle colors gjkdhdgf) because I'm weak and Dean was pining for so long that he subconsciously starting wearing Cas Colors ,_,

so yay style experimentation and double yay for Dean and Cas being dumb again 🎉

the fic this is made for is called "all out to sea" by @s7jacket for the deancas pinefest bang

(04/10/24)

#my art #supernatural #spn #spn fanart #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #my bang legacy #deancas pinefest #creature cas #selkie cas #fic art #art made for other people #animal spn #animal cas #seal cas

[witchsickness]

there is such a thing, steve supposes, as having seen too many monsters. after a while it gets old. you just—you get used to it.

stuff like billy hargrove, grave-muddy and swiss-cheesed and by all means not meant to be alive, fridge-illuminated in his kitchen and slurping mortadella slices like he didn’t die, like, three weeks ago, is ranking pretty low on steve’s shock scale.

‘oh,’ he says, ‘you’re alive.’

hargrove doesn’t exactly face him, but he does sort of growl in acknowledgment of steve’s existence. he also doesn’t stop the fridge raid, so. ‘jesus,’ he slurs, around a mouthful of italian sausage and what steve fears is molding lasagna leftovers, ‘curb your enthusiasm next time.’

‘next time you—come back from the dead?’

‘not my fault you hicks are grave-happy and buried me without checking for a pulse.’

‘oh, we checked,’ steve says, inching closer. three-am lasagna does sound pretty tempting. ‘you were definitely croaked.’

a visible shudder racks hargrove’s form. he looks—taken aback, and way too red-cheeked for a dead boy. that’s one more thing about the horrors they’ve seen. steve forgets, sometimes, how young they’re meant to be.

the fork hargrove has only been half-using clatters to the ground, makes them both jump like banshees are after them. for all they know, right? this is hawkins.

steve feels momentarily triumphant, but it immediately bleeds into guilt. how unfair is that? the asshole he traded high-school punches with saved his life, and now he can’t even gloat guilt-free. with a heavy sigh, he flips the switch. the neon cracks and fizzes and settles, falls mercilessly on hargrove’s blinded ex-corpse. he looks—well, steve’s peripherally watched enough zombie flicks by now to draw the parallels. as long as hargrove’s satiated by mr. harrington’s imported delicacies and leaves steve’s brain alone, they’re good.

he pulls two questionably clean forks out of the dishwasher, hands one to hargrove. that lasagne stopped being edible a week ago, he decides, forking a bite anyway. hargrove flinches when steve leans over his shoulder to assess the rest of the fridge’s contents, but doesn’t pull back. steve doesn’t, either.

‘how’d you get in, anyway?’

hargrove turns around, smirking. he elbow-leans on the counter, crosses a leg over another. the very picture of nonchalance, if you don’t have a clue. steve—knows better. he fights the urge to lick a thumb and wipe the mud off hargrove’s cheek, see if he’s real.

‘window was open, harrington,’ he drawls, chuckling at the way steve allows himself to get caught staring. ‘you should be more careful. never know what’s lurking in the dark.’

steve gives him a look. ‘don’t i?’ he regrets it, instantly. the shadow of shame on hargrove’s face isn’t half as satisfying as it should be, not anymore. ‘locks won’t keep the monsters out, man.’

‘would’ve kept me out, anyway,’ hargrove mumbles. he’s swapped the lasagna for his hangnails, maniacally having a go at them.

‘liar,’ steve tells him, and waits until hargrove’s insulted enough to look at him, ‘nothing would’ve kept you out.’ he gets a laugh, a real one, for his trouble. he bites his cheek and hopes this isn’t a dream.

hargrove tries, ‘your place is close to the cemetery,’ already wincing from the lie.

‘it’s really not. a for effort, though.’ steve takes the tupperwave from him, empties its contents in the trash. ‘look, are you, like, existentially opposed to a bath now? it’s just, the carpet in my room, it’s—it stains, alright? you’ll drag mud all over it, and cleaning it is a nightm—’

‘you gonna carry me to the bathtub, rich boy?’

steve—barely has time to feign offense, before a blood-crusted shirt lands on him. hargrove is standing half-naked in his kitchen. pointedly staring at his earth-stained feet. ‘don’t—don’t move,’ steve groans, ‘i’ll get you some old slippers.’

hargrove’s laugh follows him out of the room. ‘bet you were the type of brat who used to drag strays in all the time. fed them, bathed them, the works,’ he’s saying, which is unfair, and not completely untrue.

the strays usually ended up curled up in bed with him anyway, so.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #my stuff

[cookiegirlsstuff]

hiii i would like to request a fic where basically Jungkook is wondering if Taehyung is ticklish and he finds out he's like extremely ticklish

I'm not ticklish

Lee: Taehyung

Ler: Jungkook

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Jungkook was bored. Very bored in fact. The other members were at the manager's to plan the upcoming comeback and now he was alone at home. Well….almost alone.

Taehyung was also here. However, Jungkook didn't know if his bandmate was asleep or otherwise busy. He definitely didn't want to disturb him because everyone was already stressed about the comeback anyway.

However, Jungkook knew that the elder wasn't very busy when Taehyung came through the door into the living room.

"Hey Jungkook, what are you doing?" V asked curiously.

"Not much," replied Jungkook, looking around the room bored.

Taehyung, who looked rather tired by the way, sat down on the sofa next to the maknae.

Jungkook then had an idea and began to smile mischievously. He had been wondering for a while if his hyung was ticklish and now was the perfect time to find out.

"V hyung?", he asked innocent.

"Yes?" the older boy replied questioningly.

"Are you ticklish?" asked Jungkook, watching with amusement as his hyung shook his head eagerly..

"Of course not!", Taehyung lied with confidence.

But his bright red face revealed the truth. But that was something Jungkook wasn't supposed to know, of course. Taehyung felt embarrassed to be tickled.

"Then we can test it out, can't we?" asked the youngest with a sweet smile.

Taehyung knew he had no choice here, so he just sighed. "Okay", he said and gulped.

And with that the maknae descended his hands towards the older’s sides, skittering and scribbling his fingers up and down them.

“WAHahahahaha Koookiee.” Taehyung immediately let out a bout of giggles, even though he tried to suppress them.

“Why are you laughing suddenly? Either i’m really funny, or you are ticklish.” Jungkook teased.

Jungkook's teasing made the situation even worse for Taehyung and he desperately tried to free himself from the younger one's grip.

“Can you please stay still for me?”The bunny laughed along with his friend.

"I caaaan't", Taehyung managed to say between his giggles.

Jungkook found it absolutely adorable how ticklish his hyung was.

"Naw you are such a ticklish boy." Jungkook smirked and travelled his hands down to the tigers tummy drawing light circles on it.

"STAHAHAHAP", Taehyung shrieked but it was no use. Jungkook had a tight grip on him and he couldn't do anything but laugh.

"Not yet", Jungkook hovered over the helpless lee and attacked his hips.

"IT TIHIHICKLES!” Taehyung laughed and trashed around as best as he could.

"Oh, so you are ticklish?", the maknae asked and pretended to be clueless.

"YEEES I AHAHAM", the older one confessed.

"Too bad", Jungkook said before blowing a raspberry on Taes belly button.

IHIHI CAHAHANT TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT!" he squeaked through his adorable laughter.

Jungkook continued to blow long raspberries for a little bit before he finally showed mercy.

"Yoou could haaave just told me you wahahanted to tickle me," Taehyung giggled exhaustedly.

"But it was fun," Jungkook pointed out, rubbing Taehyung's back.

Taehyung just stayed quiet until he finally fell asleep in Jungkook's arms.

Thank you for your request. I had so much fun to write it and I hope you'll like it 😉 and sorry that it's so late

#bts tickling #tickle fic #bts tickle #bts #tickle content #bts tickle fic #lee!taehyung #ler!jungkook

[aannonn]

i was kinda bored (not really) and wanted to do something before i go to bed (its already 1 am in my country loll)

So.. I tried drawing them

ngl- even though im not much into shipping, i would be lying if those 3 (tsc x red, tsc x green and red x green) didn't had me searching for every lil' piece of content about them

anyways! I'm not really good at drawing, but i'm slowly learning. I still kinda likes the result, though xd

Full pic:

smoll

Welp! I think that's it..? xD

Cya ~ !

lil' note: feel free to give me Constructive criticism! I would really appreciate it. &lt;3 Just be nice about it, please- And be specific. Like- don't just say "your art is trash", like- dang. That's not gonna help me to improve it, you know? lol

For the pose, I actually got inspired (I didn't use it for reference! Just got inspired) by actually someone else's art but I can't find the artist. I'll try to find them tomorrow and, once I find them, I'll put the credits here. For now.. I should probably go to bed lol it's already 1 am-- Lil' edit: Found them! @linbrokeinthegame.

#animation vs animator #ava #color gang #alan becker #my art <33 #i tried.. #i love them so muchhh #have a good day! #have a good afternoon! #have a good night! #♪(´▽｀) #(✿◡‿◡) #༶•♥ #｡:∞

[mac-lilly]

Alone together

Happy last Juke Jeudi of 2023!

(I'm still sick - so this doesn't make much sense.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

When she climbs up the wooden ladder, Julie is not surprised to find the loft occupied. She has expected as much.

Luke’s hiding in the farthest corner, body mostly obscured by cardboard boxes and other junk. He’s awfully still. And that’s all wrong.

Luke’s never still. Not even in death.

With a sigh, she hoists herself up on the landing and carefully weaves through trash bags of clothes and Carlos’ discarded ghost-hunting equipment. The floorboards creak with every step. She rounds another box – this one has CHRISTMAS written across its front. Curious, Julie peers inside. It contains a golden star inside as well as a few plastic bags with handcrafted paper ornaments that she and her mom made a few years ago.

Julie frowns. Her dad gathered all the Christmas decorations the other day, but this one must have escaped him. Julie idly wonders if she should bring it downstairs. He’s surely looking for this one. But she’s come here for a different reason, which she needs to focus on first.  

Shaking her head, she turns her attention back to Luke.

He’s the picture of misery. He’s hunched over, arms slung around his knees. His thick, worn flannel with the familiar plaid pattern is wrapped around his torso like a blanket. The lighting in the loft is terrible. But there’s a dusty skylight just above Luke’s head. The tears on his cheeks glisten in the hazy sunlight.

Julie’s heart shatters. Suddenly, doubts begin to creep into her mind. Maybe this is a terrible idea. Maybe she should just turn around and leave. There’s still the excuse of the forgotten box of Christmas supplies that she could use and …

But Luke has long sensed her presence. He shuffles in his spot, using the movement as a disguise to dry his tears and clean off his face.

It’s all Julie needs.

Squashing down the idea of abandoning him – now the very thought makes her feel pathetic and a bit nauseous – she takes another tentative step in his direction.

“Hey …,” she says, forcing a smile that doesn’t feel right. It just makes her cheeks hurt.

Luke rubs at his eyes with the sleeve of his flannel one last time before lifting his head, meeting her gaze.

“Hey,” he responds, voice raspy and raw. “What’s up, boss?”

He tries to smile back. But the outcome is abysmal. His smile is wary and doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which are puffy and red-rimmed.

Julie doesn’t comment on it. In fact, she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she settles down beside him, drawing her knees to her chest. As she moves, she feels his eyes on her, tracking her every movement. His brows are knitted together; concern and a hint of fear are etched into his features. The sight almost breaks Julie’s heart again.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Julie draws in a shaky breath, then …

“The second year is worse.”

Luke blinks at her, confused. He can’t follow her.

Julie swallows around the lump that is forming in her throat.

“Last year was my— our first Christmas without mom.” Her voice is low – like a whisper – but surprisingly steady. “But at the same time, it kinda wasn’t. We didn’t celebrate it last year. Not really. We didn’t put up any lights or decorations. We didn’t even have a tree. We did get presents, though.”

A tiny, sheepish smile steals on her lips at her last confession. But it wears off quickly, leaving an odd, hollow feeling in its wake. Hugging her knees tightly, she continues.

“It was all too fresh, I guess. There wasn’t enough time for the implications to sink in. But this year …” Julie pauses, unsure how to put it into words. “I know Dad wants us to feel normal this year. He wants to do Christmas the way we used to – when Mom was still alive. But that’s …” She swallows again, shaking her head to chase off the unwelcome yet familiar sensation of tears pricking at her eyes. “No matter how much time will pass, it’ll never be the same again. Because Mom’s gone.”

Julie’s voice cracks with emotion, and she has to take a few calming breaths to regain control. Meanwhile, she risks a glance at Luke to gauge his mood. She half expects him to be annoyed by her monologue, maybe a bit bored.   

But all she finds is understanding. Compassion is shining in Luke’s eyes, and there’s even a hint of a genuine smile on his face. He’s been hanging on her lips the whole time.

It’s the reassurance she needs.

“You miss your mom; I miss mine. So I thought, maybe we can miss them together?”

There’s an edge to her voice, almost a plea, and then her voice is gone. Instead of words, a heavy sob flees her throat. Her tears begin to flow freely, and suddenly, her nose is clogged up. She sniffles.

Maybe she should be embarrassed. Under different circumstances, she certainly would be. But she isn’t. Not around Luke. Never around Luke. Luke, who seems surprised at her proposition. But only for a moment. His surprise fades quickly, and the look on his face turns into an expression of stunned awe. It's a sight that never fails to make the swarm of tiny butterflies in her stomach flutter with excitement.

Then, Luke's smile is back in place, and he reaches out, attempting to wipe her tears away. But his thumb phases through her skin, making her cheek tingle.

Luke groans in frustration.

“This sucks.”

It does. But Julie doesn’t mind.

Okay, maybe she does mind. Just a little. Or maybe a lot. Because she really, really wants to feel him.

Reluctantly, Luke withdraws his hand. Julie watches solemnly as he retreats, feeling like he's taking a crucial part of her with him. She’s yearning for more, not less.

Then Luke shifts his incorporeal weight, and suddenly, he’s leaning into her space, lips hovering by her ear.  

“Thank you, Julie,” he whispers. His husky voice sends a shiver down Julie’s spine. And then he kisses his cheek. More or less. She can feel the ghost of his lips brush her cheeks – his breath is like a caress, surprisingly warm as it dries her tears.

Closing her eyes, Julie revels in the feeling.

“It’ll be better next year, I promise.”

Julie isn’t sure what Luke means. But when he retreats again, there’s a mirthful twinkle in his eyes.

And Julie believes him.

#this was supposed to be done by Christmas but well ... I struggled a lot #julie and the phantoms #jatp #jukebox #happy juke jeudi!