#cuz hes always drawn looking worse than the other person

[maipiichii]

everytime someone calls mithrun a crusty eyed purse dog and draws flies circling him like a garbage dump an angel loses its wings

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Close to You - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer is needy and Reader has a work deadline to meet, so they try something new as a compromise.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: me writing another cockwarming fic? it’s more likely than you’d think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (no mommy kink this time cuz this feels more mild as far as the sub/dom dynamic goes, maybe next time!)

TW: sub!spencer, softdom!reader, cockwarming, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, creampie, afab reader

Rating: R/18+ (oops all smut)

——

The blue light of your computer screen was starting to make your eyes hurt, the hours of completed paperwork in your rearview feeling like nothing compared to the digital mountain of remaining work for your proposal you still had to complete by the deadline your boss had given you. Working from home certainly had its perks, but right now the only thing you could think of was how much more focused you’d be if you were still in an office.

“How’s work going?” Spencer’s voice broke your train of thought as he turned the corner into your home office.

“It’s fine, I still have a lot to get done.” You sighed, continuing to type away on your keyboard.

“You know, I was reading an article the other day about studies being conducted that explore the long term effects the extended work hours work-from-home jobs require have on the average adult, it went pretty in-depth on how psychologists suspect the lack of separation between work and the home environment can negatively affect the way we prioritize professional work with personal tasks and quality time.” You could tell your boy-wonder was using his vast knowledge to pick an article with a topic that was a bit too on the nose to beat around the bush of his point, but you didn’t know why.

“That’s very interesting Spencer, but why bring that up when you know I can’t stop working?” You questioned, calling his bluff.

“We haven’t had sex in 2 weeks.” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You knew that, and it was driving you crazy just as much as it was him, but this project was major and if you wanted to get the promotion you had been working so hard to get, you had to set your personal needs aside for a bit.

“I’ll make it up to you once I finish this, I promise.” You weren’t lying, your accidental celibacy had stretched your imagination to some very interesting places, and you couldn’t wait to try those new things with him, but it had to wait, no matter how touch-starved you felt.

“I want you.” He almost whined, taking a couple steps further into your peripheral vision.

“Spencer, you know I need to get this project completed before my deadline tomorrow, I don’t have time for this.”

“But I need…help.” His words were drawn out, his hushed tone piquing your interest. You pushed your chair out, craning your neck to make eye contact with him before his gaze dipped lower and yours followed. The fabric of his pajama pants was pulled taut over his bulge, his fidgeting hands barely restricting your view despite his attempt to hide the evidence of his arousal behind them.

“Oh baby, that must hurt, huh?” You sighed, giving him a sympathetic look before turning back to your work.

“It does, I need you.” He pleaded, coming up behind you to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“You need to take care of it yourself.” Your statement came out more blunt than you intended and a hint of guilt started to pang in your chest, the stress of this deadline was starting to get to you and you didn’t mean to take it out on him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy, but I already tried and I just made it worse, you feel so much better than my hand does.” He over-explained, continuing to plead his case as his fingers started kneading the sore muscles atop your shoulders.

You mulled over your options, the concept of his admittedly impressive cock filling your neglected cunt sounding all-too appealing in the moment. You knew you couldn’t take the time to fuck him right now, after no sex for two weeks your carnal urges would absolutely take over and you’d wind up ignoring your work for the rest of the night, to the detriment of your employment status. You were about to send him away when an idea popped into your head, something that could be a good compromise to both of your predicaments if done correctly.

“Drop your pants.” You bluntly stated, beginning to stand from your chair. He followed your instruction, a bit confused but too excited to question, always eager to please you. You also stripped from the waist down, ignoring the growing slick between your thighs.

“Sit down.” Came your next instruction, your eyes fixed on his erection, his head blushed pink and dripping with precum. When he was situated you climbed back onto the chair with him, positioning your knees on the suede fabric on either side of his thighs, hips hovering over his member. You reached down, fingers wrapping around his length as you positioned his head at your dripping entrance, reveling in the first sexual contact the two of you had experienced in far too long.

You slowly sank down, your warm walls engulfing his throbbing cock until you were seated fully on his lap, the fullness giving you a sense of satisfaction. Spencer’s breathy sighs and white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were, but you knew he would want more any second. You on the other hand were always better at controlling your desires, even just this level of intimacy enough to satiate you for the moment.

You relaxed into him, back pressed to his chest as you began your work once again, ignoring the dull ache in your core.

“A-are you going to move?” Spencer’s desperate voice broke the silence after a few minutes of you typing away at your computer.

“No. This is all I have time to give you right now. If you’re a good boy and stay still for me, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.” You were curious to see how well he’d do with this. Even though Spencer prided himself on being the smartest in the room at any given time, he wasn’t very good at controlling his urges and it amused you how his composure could disappear if he was desperate enough, particularly around you.

“Okay.” He breathed, seeing the muscles in his arms relax and the grip he held on the chair loosen out of the corner of your eye.

You continued your work, busting your ass to complete your project as quickly as possible. Every once and awhile you’d flex your kegel muscles, your walls contracting around his cock to keep him as hard as possible, teasing him to see how hard you could push his patience.

You grew closer to your last tasks, the end finally in sight when you felt him start to shift under you, hips attempting to thrust up into you. You anchored your hips, holding him down to not break your focus. He let out the most pathetic whine you’d ever heard, running his hand through his hair out of frustration.

“If you move again, you won’t cum tonight. I’m almost done, do not distract me again.” You told him sternly, rocking your hips back one time as an incentive.

“Understood.” He groaned, thighs relaxing beneath you.

You wrapped up the last paragraph of your proposal, satisfied with the work you had done. You could feel Spencer tense when you closed out of the last application and shut off the computer, screen darkening and leaving the two of you bathed in the golden glow of sunset in an otherwise dark room. Instead of finishing him there, you rose off of him, leaving him groaning in desperation.

His cock was covered in your slick, veins throbbing and head almost purple from how desperate he was to cum. You started walking out of the room, finger motioning for him to follow you and he almost tripped over the chair, trailing in your shadow. You found the bedroom, stripping out of your remaining clothing while contemplating what position you wanted him in. Your thighs were starting to burn from sitting in the position you had held for so long, so you opted for good old-fashioned missionary. You laid down on the bed, thighs spread as Spencer pulled off his shirt and waited for your instruction.

“Come here.” The words had barely left your lips and Spencer was already on the end of the bed, crawling up to you like an animal on the prowl.

“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?” You asked, drawing out his torture just a little while longer.

“Yes please, need to feel your perfect cunt again.” He begged, looking down at you with his big brown eyes.

“Go ahead, but don’t cum until I say so.” You instructed, your hand finding the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on his hair. He moaned, positioning himself at your entrance before thrusting fully into you, his gaze locked on the way your breasts bounced with each desperate thrust into your warm cunt.

His pace remained steady, pounding into you, your pleasure slowly building but not quite hitting the spot you needed him to. You wrapped your legs around his hips, angling your hips up ever so slightly and you couldn’t help but cry out, his cock finally hitting the soft spot inside of you that you’d been craving. He dropped his head into your shoulder, bringing his hand to your pussy to rub firm swipes over your clit, clearly desperately trying to make you cum so he could.

“So close, I don’t know how much longer I can last.” He panted, hips faltering slightly.

“It’s okay baby, don’t stop.” You moaned, too close to care about being firm with him anymore after how good he’d been for you today.

His thrusts became increasingly desperate, driving into you at a pace that had you seeing stars, the combined pressure on your clit sending you over the edge in a blur of white hot ecstasy.

“Spencer!” You cried out, nails digging into his back as you rode out your orgasm, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

His moans grew louder, hips stuttering and you could tell he was almost there, but something was holding him back.

“Cum inside me.”

Your request was all he needed to hear, not having to worry about pulling out anymore allowing all of his focus to finally come undone, hot ropes of cum filling your aching cunt. He pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with his head on your chest, long legs almost dangling off the side of the bed. You laid there spent, gently running your fingers through his hair until you both caught your breath.

“Thank you.” He spoke, lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“There's no need to thank me Spence, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. You were right about overworking, I’ll try to delegate a bit more.” You sighed.

“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, you deserve to enjoy yourself more often.” He leaned up to pull you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist as you finally got a moment to relax for the first time in weeks.

——

Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

15. Maknae Down

Note: the anon person who requested this scene, show urself cuz this is for u👍

Masterlist here

(Damn she is ded)

It started with a loud, echoing sneeze—a sharp, drawn-out sound that filled the entire dorm and was immediately followed by a groan of frustration. Y/n looked up from his spot on the couch, where he had been lazily scrolling through his phone, and saw Ningning curled up under a massive blanket on the other side of the room. Her hair was messy, and her eyes were red from what he could only assume was a cold.

Guess the cold decided to transfer from Y/n to Ningning today.

“Ning,” he called out, watching as she struggled to get comfortable in her blanket cocoon. “You good?”

“No,” she sniffled dramatically. “I think I’m dying.”

He raised an eyebrow, getting up to walk over to her. “Dying? Really? From a cold?”

Ningning glared up at him, her face flushed from fever, her nose runny, and tissues piled up next to her. “Yes, really! You wouldn’t understand. It feels like my entire body is shutting down.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, half-amused as he pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Let me guess—you left the window open last night?”

Ningning’s eyes widened in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Girl, you always do that when it’s too hot,” Y/n sighed. “But Ning, it’s winter. Having the window open while the fan’s on full blast? Genius.”

Ningning groaned, burying her face in the blanket. “It was fine until I fell asleep, and then when I woke up… well, I felt like this. I swear the weather’s out to get me.”

“Well, congratulations,” Y/n chuckled, mocking her with a single clap. “You’ve officially caught a cold.”

“Wow, thank you, Jung Y/n-psssssss” Ningning blew her nose.

“I know you love me too much, tryna copy me when I was sick last time”

Before Ningning could retort, Karina, Winter, and Giselle entered the living room, dressed and ready for their schedules. Karina took one look at Ningning’s disheveled state and sighed. “You’re staying in today, aren’t you?”

Ningning nodded miserably. “Yeah… you guys go on without me, unnie.”

Giselle, clearly annoyed, huffed, “Great, we’ll be the ones running around while you sit here like a burrito all day.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Ningning shot back, trying to maintain her usual sass, but her voice was too nasally to come off intimidating.

Winter leaned down, placing a hand on Ningning’s forehead. “You do feel warm. Stay put and rest, okay? Don’t make our idiot's life more difficult than it already is.”

Y/n snorted. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You guys go handle idol life. Minji-noona is downstairs.”

Karina glanced between the two of them, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, but if she gets any worse, call us. And make sure she doesn’t convince you to do anything ridiculous.”

“I make no promises, mom” Y/n joked, giving them a half-hearted salute as they waved goodbye and headed out the door.

Once the apartment was quiet again, Y/n turned to Ningning, who was now staring at the TV screen in front of them. He grabbed the remote and lazily flipped through the channels. “So, what now? Want to binge-watch some K-dramas or something?”

Ningning perked up slightly at the suggestion, her eyes lighting up for the first time since this morning. “Yes! You haven’t watched ‘True Beauty’, right?”

Y/n groaned. “Oh, c’mon. Isn’t that one of those sappy romance dramas? I thought you were more into action stuff.”

Ningning pouted, crossing her arms. “I AM into action stuff, but ‘True Beauty’ is ICONIC, okay? Besides, you need to catch up on your K-drama knowledge, oppa.”

“Can’t we watch something else? Like “Space Sweeper” or something?”

“No!” Ningning shouted, the sickness momentarily left her. “I’m sick today, so I rule!”

With a dramatic sigh, Y/n flipped to the streaming service and put on the first episode. “Fine, but I’m only doing this because you’re sick. You owe me.”

“Deal,” she mumbled, snuggling deeper into the blanket. “But I’m warning you, you’ll get addicted. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.”

As the first episode played, Ningning provided commentary for every dramatic moment. Y/n, despite his earlier protests, found himself getting a little too invested in the story. By the third episode, he was sitting up straight, eyes glued to the screen, reacting alongside Ningning to every twist and turn.

“See? I told you it’s good!” Ningning giggled, nudging him with her elbow. “You’re hooked, aren’t you?”

“Okay, fine,” Y/n admitted, his face scrunched up. “It’s better than I expected. But seriously, how do they make every scene so intense?”

“That’s K-drama magic,” Ningning replied, sniffling again as she wiped her nose. After a beat, her voice softened. “It’s kind of nice… watching these with someone.”

Y/n glanced at her, sensing the sudden shift in her mood. “Yeah, it’s fun. We don’t get much downtime to just hang out like this.”

Ningning hummed in agreement, staring at the screen with a distant look. “I miss it sometimes, you know? Just being at home, watching shows with my mom. I’ve been away for so long… sometimes it hits me harder than I think it will.”

Y/n’s chest tightened at her words. He’d always known that the idols dealt with homesickness, but hearing it so plainly from Ningning made it feel more real. He hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on her head, ruffling her hair gently.

“I get it,” he said quietly. “While I can't say that I'm the same as you, I can say that you got your second family here, right? Your unnie-dul, me… maybe?"

"Of course you are in there!" Ningning groaned, her usual annoyed yet adorable tone began to recover.

"Aight, aight…but we got your back, Ning-ah."

Ningning smiled, her eyes glassy but grateful. “Yeah, you guys make it a lot easier. Especially when you let me make you binge-watch K-dramas.”

“That's Y/n's package for you,” Y/n chuckled, trying to lighten the mood again. “I’m just here for moral support and terrible TV commentary.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the soft glow of the TV flickering across their faces. Eventually, Ningning shifted, resting her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be,” she murmured sleepily.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Y/n replied with a small grin. "You're more fun to hang out than I thought."

Just as Ningning started to drift off, the front door opened, and the other members trudged back into the dorm, looking tired but relieved to be home. They paused when they saw Ningning and Y/n on the couch, Ningning now fully passed out, her head still resting against his shoulder.

“Looks like the patient’s finally knocked out,” Winter whispered with a smirk.

Y/n gave a thumbs up. “Mission cleared. Though I’m not sure who’s more tired—me or her.”

Karina grinned, walking over and gently draping an extra blanket over Ningning. “Thanks for looking after her. I knew we could count on you.”

“No problem,” Y/n said, feeling the weight of the day finally catch up to him. “Let’s hope she’s better tomorrow.”

As they quietly gathered around, the dorm filled with the familiar warmth of friendship. Even though Ningning had caught a cold, it felt like one of those rare moments where everything was just… okay.

-

A few days had passed since Ningning's cold turned the dorm into a temporary clinic. She was back to her usual self—energetic, mischievous, and constantly teasing the other members. Y/n was glad to see her better, though he missed the quiet moments they had shared while binge-watching ‘True Beauty’.

It was a Saturday morning when Ningning barged into Y/n's room, her signature grin plastered across her face. She clapped her hands together excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Y/n-oppa! Get up, get dressed! We’re going out!”

Y/n, still half-asleep and wrapped in his blanket like a burrito, blinked up at her in confusion. “Huh? Where are we going?”

“Just get ready!” she said, pulling the blanket off him with a mischievous tug. “It’s a surprise. You did a lot for me when I was sick, so I’m treating you today!”

Y/n groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Ning, it’s too early for surprises. Can’t we just chill?”

“Nope!” she insisted, practically dragging him out of bed. “You’ll thank me later. Now hurry up or I’ll pick out your outfit for you.”

That was enough to get Y/n moving. The last time Ningning had chosen his clothes, he ended up in a neon green jacket and pants combo that made him look like a human highlighter. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“Are you paying for everything?”

“That’s right, I’m your sugar mommy for today, oppa!”

Y/n facepalmed. “Ning, please never repeat that again.”

-

As they left the dorm, Ningning pulled out her phone and snapped a quick selfie of them both, sending it straight to the group chat.

Ningning:

Taking Y/n out for a day of fun! Wish us luck, ladies 😉.

Within seconds, the responses started flooding in.

Winter:

Oh boy, this ought to be good. Don’t kill him, Ning!

Giselle:

I’m keeping track of this. Take lots of photos.

Karina:

Stay out of trouble, you two.

Ningning giggled, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. “Let the adventure begin!”

-

A little over an hour later, they were out the door and wandering through one of the city’s many bustling shopping districts. Ningning was in full tour guide mode, pointing out random shops, food stalls, and people as they walked.

“First stop,” she declared with a grin, “the arcade!”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the neon lights and the sound of beeping machines. “You dragged me out of bed for video games?”

“Yup,” Ningning said proudly. “Consider it payback for watching ‘True Beauty’ with me while I was half-dead. Besides, I know you secretly love this stuff.”

She quickly pulled out her phone again, snapping a picture of Y/n standing in front of the arcade and sending it to the group chat.

Ningning:

First stop: arcade. Y/n thinks he’s gonna beat me at these games. He’s so cute when he’s wrong.

Y/n peeked over her shoulder, groaning. “You’re sending updates to the others?”

“Of course!” Ningning laughed. “How else are they going to keep track of your inevitable losses?”

"Oh don't test me, Yizhuo." Y/n rolled up his sleeves.

With those words, the two of them spent hours bouncing from game to game. Ningning was surprisingly skilled at racing games, and Y/n couldn't stop himself from getting competitive during skee-ball.

At one point, Ningning managed to win a stuffed animal from a claw machine, rubbing it in Y/n's face with exaggerated pride.

“Beginner’s luck,” Y/n muttered, trying (and failing) to win his own prize.

“Sure, sure,” Ningning teased, snapping a photo of him concentrating hard on the claw machine. She sent it to the group chat with the caption:

Ningning:

Y/n’s face when he loses... again.

Winter:

LOL, poor idiot. How many tries is that now?

Karina:

He’s got that determined look... Go easy on him, Ning.

-

After a few more games and much teasing, they decided to take a break at a nearby café inside the arcade. Ningning pulled out her phone once more, sending a final picture of Y/n with a pile of stuffed animals they had won (mostly Ningning’s doing).

Ningning:

Look at our haul! Aren’t we the best team ever?

Winter:

Nice! But you sure it wasn’t all your work, Ning?

Karina:

I see a lot of plushies there. Are you guys going to share?

Y/n shook his head, laughing as he sipped his drink. “You really enjoy teasing me, don’t you?”

Ningning smiled sweetly. “Only because you’re so easy to tease.”

“…all I know is that Jeong will annoy me like you do right now when we get home.”

Ningning grinned slyly. “Oh, speaking of Minjeong-unnie…”

Y/n shot her a wary look. “What about that crybaby?”

“Well,” Ningning said, her voice dripping with mischief, “she’s been acting a bit... different lately, don’t you think?”

Y/n furrowed his brows, trying to play it off casually. “What do you mean by ‘different’?”

Ningning stopped at a snack stall, buying them both some skewered tteokbokki, and turned to Y/n with a teasing grin. “Oh, come on! You know what I’m talking about. Ever since we teased her about setting you up on a date, she’s been a little... defensive.”

Y/n nearly choked on his tteokbokki. “Defensive? No way. She's just—”

Ningning interrupted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Face it, Y/n-oppa. She got jealous.”

“Jealous?” Y/n scoffed, though the thought made his stomach flip in a way he wasn’t ready to admit. “That girl is not the jealous type. She’s just... stupid.”

“Sure, sure,” Ningning said, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Keep telling yourself that. But the way she’s been acting lately? I think someone might have a little crush on our dear manager.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, trying to shake off the teasing. “Aish, you’re binging too much K-drama now.”

“Am I though?” Ningning smirked, taking another bite of her snack. “Because if you ask me, she’s got a soft spot for you. You should’ve seen her face the other day when you went to the gym without her.”

Y/n felt a heat rising to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the spicy tteokbokki. “That’s because we’re all friends. We hang out. It’s normal.”

“Mhmm,” Ningning hummed in that infuriatingly knowing way of hers. “Whatever you say. Let's go back and beat you again."

"Tsk. I'll win everything on this second set. Ms. Yizhuo." Y/n flared up.

-

After the massive win from Ningning, the youngest dragged Y/n to a few more places—a dessert café where they shared a massive bowl of patbingsu, a photo booth where they took ridiculous selfies, and even a random bookstore where Ningning insisted on picking out a K-drama guidebook as a joke.

Y/n had to admit, it was fun. It felt like a proper break from the usual hectic schedules and responsibilities. Although the constant update to their group chat felt like a child updating his mom about his whereabouts.

As the afternoon wore on, they finally made their way to the park, where Ningning collapsed onto a bench, fanning herself dramatically. “I think we’ve officially walked the entire city. How are you not tired?”

Y/n chuckled, leaning back on the bench beside her. “I was tired when you dragged me out of bed this morning. Now I’m just used to it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Y/n glanced over at Ningning, who was unusually quiet.

“You okay?” he asked, noticing the thoughtful expression on her face.

Ningning nodded slowly, but her usual brightness had dimmed. “Yeah, just... I guess I’m feeling a little homesick again. It comes and goes, you know?”

Y/n felt a pang of sympathy. He knew how hard it was for the girls (especially Ningning and Giselle) to be away from their families, especially with their demanding schedules. “I get it. It’s tough. But we're here for you.”

Ningning smiled softly, her eyes a little misty. “Yeah, I know. You guys are the best. But sometimes I miss the little things—like my mom’s cooking or just lounging around at home, not having to worry about schedules and performances.”

Y/n nodded. “I think everyone misses home sometimes. It doesn’t go away, but I guess that’s what makes coming back to it even better when you do.”

“…it’s weird that you do make sense from time to time.”

“I am not that big of an idiot.” Y/n nudged. “But if you miss your mom’s cooking, ask her the recipe of any dish and I’ll try to learn it.”

“Really?” Ningning’s hope went off the roof. “Is that ok?”

“Mhm” Y/n patted her head. “I am your manager, at least, and I’ll be your brother, at most.”

Ningning leaned her head on Y/n’s shoulder, her voice small. “Thanks, Y/n-oppa. For everything. Today was fun.”

He smiled, resting his head against hers. "…this will DEFINITELY be on Dispatch tomorrow."

"Aish, shush it. I'm tired, oppa" Ningning accepted that she will never escape from Y/n's annoying retort.

Y/n chuckled. “Anytime, Ning. You deserve it.”

They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the quiet moment as the city buzzed around them. Eventually, Ningning perked up again, a mischievous glint back in her eyes.

“Oh, and by the way,” she said with a smirk, “don’t think I’ve forgotten about Mindoogie. You know she’s going to be extra nosy when we get back, right?”

Y/n groaned. “Can we not?”

“Nope,” Ningning giggled, standing up and stretching. “It’s too much fun watching you squirm.”

As they made their way back to the dorm, Y/n couldn't help but wonder if Ningning had a point about Winter. The thought lingered in his mind, but for now, he was just happy that Ningning was back to her usual self. And if teasing him about Winter made her day a little better, then he could live with that—for now.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#22: He Needs You (S4E11)

Rick and Michonne are two highly competent individuals and yet they still have this beautiful need for each other. In every sense. It was clear early in their relationship when Michonne told Rick, "Either way you need me" during the season 3 msf. It was clear in No Way Out, the iconic episode just before Richonne became canon, when Michonne saw Rick walk out into that horde and urgently said he needs my help. And it was made especially clear that Rick and Michonne need each other in this season 4 moment right here...

In those two s3 and s6 examples, it was Michonne being aware that Rick needs her, but in this beautiful scene in the great episode that is Claimed, it’s Rick revealing he too is aware of how much he needs Michonne.

And he needs her in the most vulnerable and important way because, even as early as season 4, Rick knew he needed Michonne when it came to his most cherished connection in the world - his son. 

Now, this scene holds a lot of personal significance to me in my own journey of falling in love with Richonne because when I finally emerged from the sunken place and realized Rick and Michonne had actually been falling in love for seasons, this was the first pre-canon scene I went back and rewatched post-canon. And truly my eyes were just wide open to the fact that this romantic relationship was a long time coming. 

All I had to do was see this scene to be a believer that Richonne was in the works early and that these two didn’t just love and respect each other but also were very clearly physically attracted to each other and drawn to each other in a special way.

This moment is so important because it’s Rick and Michonne acknowledging their need for each other and essentially agreeing to parent together from here on out. 

So I already love seeing the scene beforehand with Carl and Michonne bonding at the table and laughing over stories of soy milk. And then seeing them both saddened by the mention of Judith is heartbreaking. But I’m so glad Michonne and Carl had each other to relate to and process with, as they do so movingly throughout this entire episode. 

And I’m not the only one glad Michonne and Carl have each other - cuz in the next scene, Rick expresses exactly that. 

Michonne enters the kitchen where Rick is going through drawers, and one thing that lovely man is always going to do is thank Michonne so the first thing he says is "thank you." I love that Rick is so willing to express gratitude for Michonne’s presence in his and Carl's life.

After Rick and Carl’s hard times in the After episode, it was feeling like those boys might need divine intervention to truly heal…cue the ever-so-divine Michonne reentering their lives. 😌

Rick is such a good dad for real, and I love that he’s thanking her for getting Carl to laugh and then gets vulnerable that he almost forgot what that sounded like. It's one of those early ways of Rick letting Michonne see a more human side of himself. And truly to be able to give a kid joy in that world - I know Rick feels like Michonne is invaluable for many reasons, but for that especially. 

Also it's sad seeing how absolutely bruised and battered Rick is after that brawl with the Governor. And the crazy thing is he'd be looking worse than this or straight up dead had Michonne not saved his life and killed the Governor. That's another reason why it's fitting for the first thing Rick says to Michonne post-prison to be "thank you." In a lot of ways, he's still here because of her. And the way Rick and Carl bring Michonne back to herself, she's still here because of them too. 🥰

Also watching this back…the way Michonne is reacting as she listens to him tho. 🤭 I just have to note again - Sis likes him, y’all. Like this is truly the crush era for both of them cuz her energy in this scene is giving “he gives me butterflies” a bit idk. Like she’s always composed of course, but Rick brings out a different subtle nervous energy to her. And she brings out the same in him, and I love to see it in this phase of their relationship. 

Rick continues to be very honest with Michonne when he tells her that he can’t be Carl's father and best friend. And then the best part is Rick outright telling Michonne, "He needs you." Carl needs Michonne. 🥹 It's true tho. And Carl's dad, who knows his son best, knows this to be true.

This moment already was so moving but packs an even bigger punch now that we know Carl will so sincerely tell Michonne that she’s his best friend on his deathbed. And she'll confirm that he's hers too. 😭

And I love that, even here in season 4, just one season after meeting her - Rick knows not just that Carl enjoys Michonne but really needs Michonne. It’s another huge moment of one being vulnerable with her and also entrusting her with this knowledge that she’s super important both to Carl and to him. Because really if Carl needs her, then Rick absolutely knows he himself needs her too, and I love that he didn’t shy away from telling her this.

It’s cool that this time last season they were strangers, and now here Rick and Michonne are in this house looking like a whole family and talking about needing each other. And it’s also great how this is the two of them talking in the early stages of parenting their kids when they will later go on to have a baby too. What a journey. 🥰

I love that Michonne gets to tap back into her mother side with Carl back in her life. She tried to shut that part of herself off after losing little Andre but it’s still so clearly in her, and it’s beautiful the way Carl (and Judith in that moving scene when Michonne cries holding baby Judith in the prison) brought that out of her again.

It’s also really sweet that Rick acknowledges that’s a lot to throw at her. Rick was thrown into being a single dad so suddenly in season 3, and while going through his own trauma and pain, he still tries so hard to be a good dad to Carl. And even knowing he needs Michonne in Carl's life, he still doesn’t want to overwhelm her with it, especially cuz he knows she’s the independent go-out-on-my-own-to-hunt-down-crazy-governors type.

I noticed that even early pre-canon Rick seemed to be mindful of what Michonne wanted and needed, especially because deep down he didn’t want to lose her.  And I love that as Rick and Michonne's love story continued to unfold, he'd learn he never has to worry about losing her because she's with him always. 😊

So Rick says, "if you ever feel like you need a break..." but Michonne makes it clear that she’s here to stay when she speaks for the first time in the scene and assuredly says, "I’m done taking breaks."

I love how even tho Michonne didn’t talk a ton in the early seasons whenever she did speak it was just powerful and impactful. And you know she means it when she says this. She loves these Grimes boys and she’s not leaving them anymore.

This really is the season they become family and parents together without ever looking back. I love that Michonne gets this confirmation that she’s needed and valued and gets to give Rick this confirmation that so is he, and she's in it with them for the long haul.

Rick nods and then they have those signature lingering looks. Then Michonne asks what the plan is and if this place is home. That’s always very telling to me because it shows she’d be willing to establish a long-term home with them. #family.

I really feel like if both of them had found different members of tf they might be thinking more urgently about finding others, but when the three of them found each other, they found who they most needed and who they could really stop and build a fulfilling life with if they wanted.

Rick says, "Let’s just stay here while we figure it out," and then they have this quiet long moment of just staring at each other again. That clear sexual tension makes them fidgety a little bit. 😋 And like, why are these stares between them always so long? 🤭 #HereForIt.

I love this era where Rick and Michonne so clearly make each other feel a type of way in a way no one else could and they think they're being subtle about it when they're not lol. Like I know the direct quote from both their minds in this house is, “You’re about as fine as can be and now I’m really out here in an apocalypse catching feelings.” Lol, they just be mesmerized with each other and can’t help it.

Tell me both their expressions in this scene aren't a little bit or a lotta bit giving...

And also I think Rick knows that he’s suggesting he wants her to stay put with them for an indefinite amount of time and is a little nervous about if Michonne would be willing to do that with them, hence his expression. 

Michonne shows she is willing to settle in here with them when she nods and says she’ll get the supplies they need with Carl, and Rick quickly offers to go. You know these Get Things Done Grimes are always willing to go get things done. Rick and Michonne have always had that in common.

But they’ve also always had it in common to look out for the other, and so Michonne reminds Rick that he was unconscious the other day, which 😢. Like hearing that made me think dang Rick was really fighting for his life with these injuries and still trying to be a good dad and thoughtful toward Michonne while even in and out of consciousness. Real one.

Rick says, "I'm awake today" as if being full unconscious the day before is old news lol. He's like...

But Michonne then expresses her and Carl's need for Rick when she says, "We need you strong." Again I love that they need each other, and they know it and voice it.

And I especially love that Michonne so soothingly tells him to "Just rest. One more day." Cuz truly resting is a rare luxury in that world, but Michonne really can give Rick that luxury.

As much as Rick and Michonne are go-getters, they’ve also shown they're good at reminding the other to take a break, and that’s so refreshing, needed, and important. We got us a balanced couple, y'all. 👌🏽

Michonne speaks to Rick so compassionately, it reminds me of how she speaks and looks at him when she tells him he gets a few more days in their honeymoon ep Say Yes. (Also, this s4 scene shows they’ve been giving each other the heart eyes for the longest.) And you know Rick is going to listen and agree after she tells him to rest.

Michonne walks out of the kitchen, and seeing Rick turn and watch her go...that was my first moment of realizing oh he’s been checking her out for seasons. It’s great. (and it made his hand placement at the end of their canon ep make a lot of sense lol)

Lingering on this shot of him watching her walk gives such an indicator of attraction to me. Cuz yes Rick has an overall appreciation for her, of course, but he could’ve been appreciative while continuing to look out the window like he just was lol. That turn around and attentively watching her go was cuz Rick likes what he’s seeing. Always has. 😌

And I bet Michonne's walk would be on the list of things Rick loves about her, just like Rick’s walk is on the list of things she loves about him. 

Both of their energy in this season 4 scene just screams that whatever they have between them is not just platonic. And they’re just such parents in this ep. I love that the next scene is Rick again sending Carl out on a run alone with Michonne. He seriously trusts her to have done this twice now so early in their relationship, both in this ep and in Clear.

And when Rick says, "follow her lead" to Carl, and Michonne winks at Rick, letting him know she’ll make sure their kid is taken care of and gets something to eat on their run - issa whole mom and dad. 🤗

Rick, Michonne, and Carl really did find their truest home within each other, and in this ep, you can see how true that is. So I love this episode for really establishing Richonne as parents together and solidifying the lovely Grimes 2.0.

And it's great how Rick and Michonne’s deep need for each other so beautifully evolved into deep romantic love for each other too, as their family tree grew even more with the adorable addition of RJ. 🤗

Richonne's journey from Rick telling Michonne their son Carl needs her in season 4 to them having a son of their own in season 9, just goes to show we stan a ship with an abundance of riches. Boundlessly blessed, y'all. 😌

[miraclecherryblossomsblog]

CEREZITA, MY BELOVED 💖💖💖💖💖💖

Hello :3 💋💋💋💋

Here for the OC ask game :DDDD

I hope u have been well btw I am cuddling u uwu

If these are too much my bad;; 🧍🏾‍♀️. Just pick what you wanna answer if so, lol.

.

.

For Cherry thee sexy angel with chibi form:

❤️ - What is one of her best memories?

🧠 - What do you like most about her?

For her daughter, babygworl Emilia:

🍕 - What is her favorite food?

💀 - Does she have any phobias?

For grandmommy muscle Eline:

🧊 - Is her current design the first one?

🍀 - What originally inspired her creation?

For Mochi 🍡 Da liddol guy <3:

🎹 - Does he have Hobbies?

🌺 - Does he have a love interest?

Also unrelated but thinking about spiderverse Author and kissing her forehead <333333

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY thank u love :3 (things r just going but we walking)

MAN been a while since I heard those names lmao

For cherry

-Best memory:

Seeing a galaxy for the first time in person. She would always see them in holograms when she was younger as she accompanied her mom

And when Emilia was born. She's seen beings from different worlds struggle to bring life into the world and even so she could had call for magic to be done easier and faster, yet she decided to let her baby be born naturally to really understand that struggle as her fascination for mortal life...probably one of the days she cried the most

-What do I like about her:

I just love her tbh, even tho I haven't drawn her in a while I still rotate her design in my head cuz she really pretty to me. Also cuz it sorta camed out after I created the blog so she basically followed since day one, cherry reactions were the first thing I started to post here so she been with me for good while (i shoulded tagged them.....ugh..)

For Emilia

-Fave food:

She has more a obsession with greasy food, pizza, spaghetti, or anything deep fried is her FAVORITE. And that just gets worse as she gets older skskksksk

-Phobia:

She doesn't develop any fears until she becomes older. Its more of the fear of ending alone....she is celestial being after all so her lifespan is WAY longer than mortals

But even higher beings cannot continue forever....just like the sun

For Eline

-Design:

Yeah, pretty much! Although now looking at it I should probably giver her a fresh look.....maybe one day......

-Inspiration:

I don't think I had any inspo for her other just making sense on where cherry camed from, haven't really worked on her until u put her name KDJDIADJNFQJEFQJJBBFL

Mochi

-Hobbies:

He sorta just like observing what ane does and maybe bit of violence. Eating is another favorite, ane tends to end up feeling bit too full which is why she doesn't allow him near food much skskskk (like that comic where star platinum just ketp eating until jotaro couldn't take it no more KSMSMDDKJDNSNK)

-Love:

Since mochi's part of Ane if she falls in love with someone he will feel that love for that person and becomes like a clingy cat to them (in that case jotaro would be the target lolololol)

[natsunoomoi]

Do you find hiei cute or handsome, I know you may not like him based on looks but what kind of category will you put him in ? Some people might find him scary, normal or ugly looking compared to yukina but I think he's really cute and adorable might be because I love him lol, btw can I know reason why you like hiei ? If you don't mind.

Originally when I was watching the show when I was 10, I liked Hiei not necessarily because of his appearance. Like I came to like his appearance later and when I was 10 I thought he was the perfect guy for me and used to wish that I wouldn't grow taller so that I could be shorter than him and be his perfect girl. XD I was 10, so I look back at my child logic and just laugh cuz WTF.

But also honestly, the point in the series where I decided I liked Hiei was during the Ankoku Bujutsukai when Ruka came out to separate him and Genkai from the team because they were the strongest and she was already in her sexy nurse outfit and making the audience go wild, but then it got worse when she took the outfit off and she was just covered by vines. And while other characters and the audience made commentary on her revealing outfit, Hiei did not give a shit. It was the first time I saw a male character in any media I'd ever seen that did not trip over themselves over a woman or their body, and the Western media I had around me at that time all told me that men are basically thirsty dogs that chase women and don't really care about things like loyalty or genuinely wanting to be in a relationship or married. Husbands always complained about their wives and called them a ball and chain and would get tired of their wife and cheat on them for someone younger. It was the first time I'd seen any male character not care at all about what other media told me that guys care about, so I genuinely thought that Hiei is the kind of person that can be loyal and wouldn't cheat. Like he was cool in other ways, but I'm having an internal chicken or egg situation in my mind where I'm not sure if thinking Hiei was cool came before or after this revelation and me liking him, but I know for sure in my young mind I had a massive insecurity about that and fear of future relationships and that kind of representation in YYH assuaged some of my fears and gave me hope that I too could actually find someone that could be loyal and wouldn't care if another woman threw themselves at them. There's a lot of things cool about him for sure and he's drawn pretty handsome, but I think that scene was the most influential for me.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

romanced hancock reacting to pregnant sole? (obviously not his baby, but a donor's haha)

Hancock x Pregnant! F!Sole Headcannons:

Oh look! I've been enabled yet again! No, but this is great though, I love thinking about happy companions starting a family with Sole ❤

Also, if y'all want any headcannons or anything for companions as parents please hmu, cuz my brain just naturally seems to consider that after doing these pregnancy prompts anyway 😅

Anyway, thanks for the ask, I hope you enjoy!

The ghoul always wondered whether or not his tear ducts would still work after his whole ordeal, and the news that the love of his life was ready and willing to start a family with him would certainly seek to find out. As soon as she gave the word that the donorship had worked, Hancock would be grinning wide and tearfully, with upturned brows and a trembling lip. Unable to speak at first, he would pull an equally tearful Sole into the tightest hug he could muster, their bodies flush, his arms enveloping his love as his roughened cheek pressed insistently against her smooth one. “You just made me the happiest ghoul in the whole damn world, you know that, sunshine?” He’d say just before touching his lips to her cheek in a long, drawn out, tender kiss. (The action may or may not escalate into a long trail of kisses spanning across Sole's entire face as mirthful giggles escape her lips.)

Who would've thought that this was in the cards for him? Certainly not Hancock. He thought he was lucky enough just to be in the presence of someone like Sole, but for her to return the feelings he had for her? To enthusiastically agree to being in a relationship with him? To want to start a family together? Hancock was sure he was dead, or riding the wildest high of his life, for how could this be reality for someone like him? A junkie, a bachelor, a coward, a ghoul, a flimsy torn page with "bad news" written all over it. Nah, he didn't deserve this, but damn was he overjoyed at the fact that Sole thought he did, and who was he to question her judgement?

Hancock had never thought this would be possible, the whole "baby" thing… even though he knew about donors and such, he always thought it would be too painful for Sole to consider having a family again. And with him? Of all the folks in the Commonwealth and beyond, she wanted the infamous ghoulified mayor of Goodneighbor to be a father? To her kid? He was fucking ecstatic. He didn’t quite understand why she wanted to raise a baby with him, why she thought he’d be any good at it, if she thought that. He knew he wouldn’t be the perfect fit for this kinda lifestyle; that he knew for certain, but the fact that she wanted him to try… that shit made his whole body tingle with warm gratitude from the inside out.

He would try to be calm, collected, and altogether nonchalant about the whole process in order to keep Sole relaxed. From finding the donor, to the fertilization, to the pregnancy, and all the way through to Sole going into labor, he would try to be as calm and cool as a November night. And on the outside, he'd do a damn good job, but inside? Nah, inside, this ghoul's worried sick. If anything went wrong with his sunshine, he wouldn't know what to do, he's not sure he could take a blow like that.

So, he’d try not to think too much about what could go wrong, since he knew that would only make it harder for him to be there for Sole in the way that she needed, but occasionally he’d just have those kinda days. A bad trip, a fitful night fraught with horrific dreams, a bout of horrifying overthinking as Sole uttered a pained sound from one little thing or another, or a stint of morning sickness that seemed to last just a bit too long for his liking. All of these would have the poor mayor on edge. Normally, when he was stressed, Hancock would try to chill out with some jet, or calmex, but he really was trying to give up the junkie life to the best of his irradiated abilities. It was a vicious cycle of anxiety every once in a while, but Sole was always there to help him through it. To remind him that this wasn’t her first experience with having a baby, to tell him that he was doing a wonderful job, despite his anxieties, and to remind him that they were the Sole Survivor and the Mayor of fucking Goodneighbor, and that they could face damn near anything when they were together.

Those were only the bad days though. On the good days, oh, hon... Hancock was simply blissful. Sole really is in for a treat, as she is absolutely 100% pampered and loved on, coddled and looked after for 9 months straight, and then some (minus the couple of bad days, where she has to be the one doing the coddling, but really, how could she mind?). As soon as the pair finds out that Sole really is going to have this baby, Hancock is already offering her anything she may need in order to stay safe and comfortable for the next 9 months.

Hancock’s chill personality really shines when it comes to any mood swings Sole may have, and a lifetime of chem and alcohol use has rendered the ghoul particularly skilled at cooking foods that are comforting and easy to make/eat that come in handy after bouts of morning sickness. Who knew that all of his hangover experience would come in handy like this?

While Hancock loves nothing more than going on adventures in the Commonwealth alongside his beloved, he wouldn’t say it in so many words, but would be more reluctant than usual to leave Goodneighbor or Sole’s house. When, before, he would have leapt up at the prospect of hunting down some goons and making the world a better place through some good ole fashioned violence, Hancock couldn’t think of anything worse than having Sole get injured, or potentially losing the one he loves more than anything in the world, and the possibility of a future family with her if some shit went wrong. So, while he absolutely knows she is capable and an complete beast in combat, and he recognizes that Sole can’t stay cooped up indoors for the whole 9 months, (and let’s face it, he certainly doesn’t want to either, but he’s not about to leave his love behind so he can get outta the house once in a while) he definitely steers the pair away from the areas he knows to be more sketchy than others.

Hancock just loves showing Sole off. He did this before the pregnancy as well, but man, now if anyone comes up to the pair when she starts showing, you know Hancock is already beaming as he tells the inquiring stranger just how far along she is, whether it’s a boy or a girl (if they know), or even what they think the baby’s gender is if they don’t want to know/can’t find out, how often the baby has been kicking, and he may even ask for opinions on baby names from certain kind folks who come up to chat with the parents-to-be. It’s also quite likely that he uses these passer-byes as an indirect way to further compliment Sole, saying things to them like, “Doesn’t she look gorgeous?,” “Just look at how she glows,” or “It’s just incredible how you/these ladies do this, isn’t it? Damn it if she's not the strongest person I know,” just to showcase his admiration for her. Does it sometimes result in strange looks from the strangers? Of course. Does Hancock care, or even seem to notice? Not remotely. He's too busy gawking at the love of his life and her blushing, embarrassed glory.

The mayor tends not to be rude about it unless the person ignores him, but if he notices someone smoking nearby, he will ask them to put out whatever it is, or to simply move if he and Sole were there first. In addition to that, he will make quite the lifestyle change for himself, voluntarily giving up chems to the best of his abilities so long as withdrawals don't prevent him from caring for Sole, and when he does partake, Hancock won’t do it around her, he’ll move outside or to another room. He would also offer to give up alcohol, since he knows that she won’t be able to drink with him anyway, and leave it up to her if she wants him to go cold turkey like her. Even if she doesn’t mind, he still won’t drink in excess around her during her pregnancy. It's kind of a respect thing for him, and there ain't no one he respects more than the future mother of his child.

(little bit of NSFW content here) When it comes to sex, Hancock is even more generous than usual in the bedroom (if you can believe it's possible). His every movement acts as a tribute to his appreciation for the woman he loves more than life itself. He’d be sure to be gentle, but in all honesty, Hancock wouldn’t change anything too much (no need to fix what ain't broken, ya know?). He has always paid particular attention to Sole beneath the sheets, since he’s quite experimental, and comfortable with most kinks and things himself, so he tends to let her choose positions, location, duration, and pacing, and would definitely keep it this way during the pregnancy. You think this man used to really get into body worship before, this is just a whole nuther level. As Sole puts on weight later into her pregnancy, he takes full advantage of her swelling plushness, running his hands over her body, taking the time to squeeze and palm every bit of her growing softness, constantly complimenting every bit of her as his starving eyes eat up every inch of her beauty. Especially if Sole is self-conscious about any of the changes in her body, Hancock will be sure to constantly remind her that she’s the most captivating and gorgeous person he’s ever met. No stretch mark appears on her body without being lovingly kissed, no soreness will develop without the offer of a nice, long massage (this perhaps is just another excuse to get his hands on her), no tenderness will go unnoticed and will be accounted for when his hands are roaming her body. In general, he’s as loving and doting as ever, but he's also on high alert for any signs of pain or discomfort coming from his other half.

He’d be SO excited every time the baby kicked. For some reason, the babe seems to wait until he’s around to do it, and he’s thrilled. Sole is a little weirded out by it, but she honestly takes it as a good sign. But oh man, Hancock's hands will be all up in that shit, not wanting to miss a thing as Sole smiles at him like this isn't the fourth time this has happened in one evening (does he use this as yet another excuse to touch Sole? Hmm, who knows [the answer is yes]). Sometimes he forgets to be sympathetic when Sole can't sleep due to the fluttering in her belly, but his roughened hands smoothing rhythmically over her stomach throughout the night might just help her catch a few Zzs after all.

He’s admittedly quite nervous as she approaches labor, becoming ever more protective as her belly swells to its largest point, ensuring she avoids any kinda gun fight, crazy high heights or unneeded stress, and he would be adamant about Sole sitting out any outings, missions, or other activities in the dangers of the Commonwealth. But man, would he make an environment she didn’t want to leave. Pillows, snacks, dim lighting, good conversation, music, soft touches, compliments galore, and a man who is at her constant beck and call, willing and happy to do anything and everything she might need or want? Yeah, here’s to say, Sole didn’t really want to leave anyway.

By the end of the pregnancy, Hancock has a strange mix of apprehension and denial going on. He’s used to Sole being pregnant now, he knows how to deal with everything, how to take care of her, what makes her uncomfortable and how to fix it. But a kid? An infant? He doesn’t know how babies work, doesn’t know how to tell what they want from him. He’s excited beyond belief at the thought of being a father, but he just doesn’t know how to do it. He tries to think back to his own dad, and the way that he was brought up as a kid, (though, he's not sure that's a great frame of reference given the way he turned out) and definitely goes off of Sole’s judgement, but he can’t shake the feeling that he was never meant for this. To settle down and have a family. He isn’t his dad, he’s Hancock. He’s not a “family man,” not a picturesque pre-war looking man with a normal job and a cookie-cutter backstory; he’s a self-made ghoul, a junkie, a deadbeat whose earned his position of power by bathing in the blood of tyrants who died by his own hand, and shooting his veins up with every kinda poison the wastes have to offer. How do you explain that to a kid? That he made himself the way he is, cuz he couldn’t stand the man he’d grown up to be? What the hell kinda example is that? He wouldn't doubt for a second that his baby would be the center of his world from the moment he sees it, but if anything, that only ups the anxiety that he'll do something to mess the kid up. Hancock would be nervous as shit, but if Sole had confidence in him, well… he trusts her judgement more than he does his own, so if she thinks he’s "daddy" material, he ain’t gonna argue with that. All he can do is hope she’s right, follow her lead, take it one day at a time, and hope that him trying his absolute hardest will be enough.

[moved-to-cinnamon-phrog]

hii, anon with the yellow guy f/o here again to talk about him!!

I'm actually very new to dhmis, but I was immediately drawn to yellow. Upon watching the YouTube series and the show I started looking into the fandom a bit. The amount of people that have the hc that yellow is a child lowkey freaked me out at first because I thought it was somehow canon. (Nothing against that hc though it's just not for me!) I'm definitely not into any of that pr0shipper stuff so I had to do a bit of research.

After resolving the initial panic I decided to get into self shipping and have yellow guy as my first official f/o! I've known about self shipping for a while, but hadn't had the bravery to try it. I found that it makes me really happy especially since my DHMIS hyperfixation has hit me harder than any other fandom has in a longg time!

The amount of constant inspiration and energy thinking about yellow guy has given me is insane!! He's gotten me back into drawing after a huge break from it because I'm just so in love with him that I have to translate those thoughts into art. I have so much art of yellow saved to my phone cuz there are so many talented people in this fandom and I love seeing how they interpret him!

It's so nice to see someone who also has yellow as an f/o and I would be so so happy to hear you talk about him as well!!!

ASDFGHJKIUYTREWQEFGVCBNVCVBN!!!!!!! HI ANON!!!!!!

Sorry for such a late reply, I was trying to conjure up any kind of coherent sentence in my head because I am SO happy for you and to be able to talk to someone who also has Yellow as an F/O.

I haven’t been in this fandom for long, either. Only a week from a year. Which is crazy, because it feels like only yesterday I was subjected to this crazy, sopping puppet man and yet I feel like I’ve known him my whole life.

ALSO YOUR ART!!!! I BET IT’S AMAZING!!!!!!!

He’s given me SO MUCH drawing inspiration as well, most of my sketchbook is at least 70% Yellow asdfghsdfgxcvbcvb

I love him, and for once I don’t once feel pained over it.

Every other person I’ve loved, fictional and real, just felt… hollow. I always felt detached and empty and had no real comfort. Most made me feel worse.

But, with Yellow, things feel better. Things feel fuller. Brighter, even. I always tried to associate my past crushes with sunlight, but it never really fit them.

But it does with Yellow. Because he literally is sunlight. The vibrant colour of it, the warm softness of it, even the violent blaze of it.

And I’m glad he makes you feel a similar way, really.

[spice-chan]

Safe

Bakugou Katsuki x reader

Warnings: kidnappings, insecure reader, mentions of dieting, mentions of drugging, swearing.

@miraclecherryblossomsblog managed to catch the gist of your request before Tumblr chomped it. And always remember, you're pretty as hell! 😍 😤

You were so insecure, it killed Katsuki at times. No one noticed but him, no one seems to care. But he does, he noticed when your eyes seem duller than usual when you’re quieter. When you fuss too long over tiny and unimportant details you view as imperfections.

It kills Katsuki when you don’t seem as vibrant as usual, only ‘cuz you’re fucking trying to eat less.

While he stares with lust trodden eyes at your soft flesh, all cosy and nicely fitting against his hard-earned muscles, you stare in dismay.

If society makes you feel like this…. then maybe Katsuki shouldn’t let you continue to exist in said society.

………

You woke up, eyes hazily looking around, a dull pain pricking at your head as you looked around, fog clearing little by little.

A guttural, throaty screech left your mouth, limbs desperately trying to move, thrashing like a caged rabid dog. The cuffs around your body made movements impossible though.

To make this whole matter worse, your kidnapper probably has some weird fetish. You were dressed in an oversized, pastel pink hoodie, which had a cat drawn in the middle and fluffy cat ears on the hood. It stopped at your upper thigh. And a thigh-high sock-covered most of your legs, except a noticeable sliver of skin, too much skin.

The sock squeezed your flesh, making it spill out of the top. Leaving your stretch marks out in the open and making you want to cry.

You were crying. Tears slipped down your cheeks, making you feel more pathetic than ever, what happened?

One moment you were drinking hot chocolate with your friend Bakugo, after…

Oh God, is he ok?

Your question was answered when the door opened, revealing Bakugou in the flesh, who flinched at the sight of your tears as if personally wounded. He honestly didn’t mean to hurt you, didn’t mean to make you pained emotionally nor physically but before he could have second thoughts, he reminded himself that this is for the best.

“Bakugo, quick, untie me. We have to leave.”

You begged him, thrashing around and looking at him in confusion when he didn't move.

“Can’t do that, Teddy Bear. Sorry…”

A million questions whirled in your head, but something here was completely amiss and not even worth questioning.

Bakugou, last person you were with. Untied and dressed in comfortable PJs while you were tied. Refusing to uncuff you.

“No…”

“Teddy bear, listen to me. This is for the best. Here, you can be happy and comfortable. Nothing can hurt your feelings here.”

He spoke softly to your shaking figure, tracing your perfect, soft cheek with a finger.

“Sorry if your head hurts, I used a drug so I wouldn't have to knock you out, but I ended up hitting your head while taking you out of the car. I got you a painkiller though, you'd better take it!”

“What have you done?” You asked in complete horror.

He sighed, appearing solemn.

“I took you from all things that made you sad.”

You repressed asking more questions, God knows you didn’t truly want the answers, the reality was still not within your fingertips.

“Why am I dressed like this?”

He perked up at that, blushing as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, eyes perversely seeking out your form, greedily drinking in the exposed flesh, heartwarming at the cuteness of you.

“Well, uh, I couldn’t help myself. I always wanted to see you wearing something like this, but you never.”

“Bring me a change of clothes, you freak. I don’t wanna wear this.” You wanted to shout, scream, hit and bruise but all you did was cry and pathetically ask for a change of clothes.

He seemed angry at that, growling at you menacingly.

“Don’t call me a freak, princess, and no, you look good.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

He stood up, defensively staring at you and lashing out in typical Bakugou fashion.

“DON’T YOU GET IT ?! IT KILLED ME TO SEE YOU SO DOWN EVERYDAY BECAUSE YOU KEPT COMPARING YOURSELF TO OTHERS AND WHAT SOCIETY CALLS GOOD. IT KILLED ME, BUT I COULDN’T LET IT KILL YOU.”

You were shaking so badly by the end, scared this insane maniac was going to turn to you and finally let his anger out.

You flinched when he touched you, but it wasn’t anything rough and gruff like you expected. He wiped away your tears, kissing some of them and finally pecking you on the lips.

“You’re my perfect angel, if it takes me taking you away for you to realise and accept that then so be it.”

[sociallyawkward--fics]

Last Christmas

Here it is, lol. The fic I wrote last night with Wham!’s “Last Christmas” on repeat for literally Three Hours Straight lol. It is entirely unedited except for me having a friend read it over briefly and them go “you’re missing a period here” and nothing else lol. Please be kind though, I have not written for months and any Christmas fics I’m posting are more just warm-ups to get me back to the level of writing I was before I accidentally took a break, cuz no way I’m jumping back into my Big Projects without getting myself back up to par lol

ALSO, I know Jaskier seems like,,, really aggressive towards Yen in this fic. She's not meant to be a villain! Jaskier just is jealous and sad so he takes it out on her a little bit, which is definitely not the right thing to do but I think it's a very human thing to do. After this I imagine them going for coffee or smth and just lovingly trash-talking Geralt and realizing "wow we can actually be decent friends" lol

------------

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types; Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game); The Witcher (TV); Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski

Relationship: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg; Triss Merigold; Zoltan Chivay; Iorveth (The Witcher); Eskel (The Witcher); Vernon Roche

Additional Tags: eskel triss iorveth and roche are barely-there btw; Jealous Jaskier | Dandelion; Mistletoe; Getting Together; Misunderstandings; Miscommunication; Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg; Alcohol; Drinking; Smoking; (very briefly) - Freeform; Communication; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings; Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia; Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia; Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion; Mutual Pining; Kissing; Hugs; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers; Alternate Universe - No Powers; Holidays; Christmas; Christmas Party

Word Count: 3614 words

[ao3 link]

------------------------------------------

It took an embarrassing amount of time for Jaskier to work up the courage to leave his car. Instead he sat there, heat off and car growing increasingly frosty, forehead against the steering wheel as he bemoaned his own very existence. He did not want to go to this party, which was very out of character for him.

But Jaskier couldn’t take another repeat of last year’s holiday party. And he knew the second he saw Geralt, he would be back there again.

They had both been decently tipsy, which was their first mistake, but Jaskier knew that neither of them were drunk. That’s why he had been so shocked when Geralt made the first move, pressing him up against the wall to the men’s room and ravishing his mouth. They’d gone home together to Jaskier’s flat and had a wonderful night together, but Geralt had been gone come morning.

They never spoke of that night. And by the next week, Geralt had been back in his on-again, off-again relationship with Yennefer.

Jaskier thought he’d gotten over it. As much as he didn’t regret it, it was clear that Geralt did, and he wasn’t going to push his feelings onto the man when they were so clearly unwanted. It was a miracle their friendship survived it, with how testy they had been with each other for weeks afterward.

Jaskier took a deep breath and tightened his scarf around his neck, finally leaving his car to make his way into the hotel ballroom that Foltest had booked for the night. At least their work holiday parties weren’t held in the offices, Jaskier wouldn’t have been able to force himself back to work after last year if they were.

Jaskier’s traitorous eyes immediately sought out Geralt the moment he walked in. He wasn’t hard to find, with his striking silver hair and refusal to wear anything but black. He stuck out like a sore thumb, in the sea of red and green and gold. But god, did he look good. Unfortunately, he was already occupied with the only other person in the room who refused to wear color: Yennefer. 

Jaskier forced his eyes away, directing them instead towards the makeshift bar. Zoltan was already there, and, judging by the red on his cheeks, already several drinks in. Jaskier couldn’t exactly judge. He was going to need quite a few drinks to get through this night as well.

“Good old Dandelion!” Zoltan crowed as he approached, words only slightly slurred.

“Zoltan,” Jaskier greeted with an easy smile, nodding at the bartender. “When are you ever going to give up on that silly nickname?”

Zoltan snorted. “You’re the one who calls himself a flower, Julian.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Soon enough, Jaskier had a drink in his hand and an earful of Zoltan’s voice, accent only growing thicker and harder to understand the drunker he got. He was barely following what Zoltan was talking about, anymore. Something about his ex father-in-law’s business tanking? He seemed rather pleased by it, in any case. Jaskier probably would be to, if he wasn’t still so anxious.

“What’s got a stick up yer ass?” Zoltan asked after a while, winding down from his latest story.

“Just… not in a partying mood, I suppose.”

Zoltan laughed uproariously. “You? Not in a party mood? Never thought I’d see the day!”

Jaskier gave a half-hearted smile, knowing Zoltan was too far gone to notice that fact, and let his eyes wander the crowd. After a few drinks, he was beginning to feel pleasantly tipsy. The idea of lasting out the party was actually beginning to feel manageable, though he still felt like giving Yennefer and Geralt a wide berth. They always exploded at these things, and Jaskier didn’t want to be caught in the middle of that.

Again.

That was one fight their friendship almost hadn’t survived, and it was the worst six months of Jaskier’s life. And that was including the past twelve months after the last holiday party.

“Come on, Dandelion,” Zoltan said, and Jaskier’s attention was drawn back to the bar. “Sit down for a game of cards with me! Or perhaps a round of dice?”

Jaskier laughed, his first true laugh of the night. “I know better than to gamble with you, old friend. It’s about time I mingled, don’t you think? Give the masses what they desire.”

Zoltan laughed again and gave him a sloppy wink. “Go get ‘em, tomcat. I’ll find some other poor fool to swindle.”

Jaskier grinned. “I don’t doubt it.”

Jaskier slipped away from the bar and into the crowd. He greeted people with hugs and kisses on the cheek, making them laugh and shove him away with teasing grins. He twirled between groups of people in a carefully perfected dance, muscle memory even with the alcohol in his system.

Unfortunately, that muscle memory rather quickly led him to Geralt’s current circle of companions. Yennefer and Triss were there, clearly making an intense effort to not be at each other’s throats. Eskel was there, which wasn’t surprising: as much as a sweetheart as he was, Eskel’s social skills definitely needed some development, and he tended to use Jaskier and Geralt as a social crutch (despite the fact that his brother was even worse with people than he was). Iorveth and Vernon Roche were on opposite sides of the little circle the group had formed, and Jaskier dreaded that disaster waiting to happen.

Really, how did Geralt attract such dramatic people to him so easily?

Despite how suddenly off-kilter Jaskier felt being so close to Geralt, last year flashing through his mind, he knew he couldn’t show it. Geralt would notice, and then it would be awkward for them both, and Jaskier would never forgive himself for ruining Geralt’s Christmas two years in a row.

So he flitted around the group, being his charming self. His smile felt forced as he gave Iorveth and Roche (very awkward) one-armed hugs. His stomach churned as he kissed Triss on the cheek. His balance felt off as he waltzed into Eskel’s arms for one of his patented bear hugs (though that was likely the alcohol, now that he thought about it).

“How is it that you’re already drunk, Jaskier?” Geralt said as Jaskier pulled out of Eskel’s arms.

Jaskier shot him a cheeky grin. “Not drunk, my dear--friend. My dear friend. Merely tipsy.”

“With a stutter like that forming?” Yennefer teased, holding out her hand.

Jaskier indulged her dramatics and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, chest burning white hot all the while. His smile was probably slightly too-sharp when he stood back up again, but he couldn’t be bothered to fix it.

“The heavier side of tipsy, perhaps,” Jaskier replied, smoothly sliding in beside Geralt to drape himself over Geralt’s shoulders.

A chorus of titters and chuckles went through the circle and Jaskier furrowed his brow. He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, searching for imperfections but finding none. He then looked toward Geralt for an explanation, but the poor man looked just as confused as Jaskier was.

“Aren’t you wondering why none of us were standing all that close to Geralt?” Triss asked, that coy smile Jaskier was all-too-familiar with making its way onto her lips.

And now that she mentioned that, it was odd. Yennefer was usually glued to Geralt’s other side, and Triss was almost always trying to butt her way in. Her jealousy tended to be a great deal more obvious than Jaskier’s, deliberately trying to provoke the two of them. Jaskier simply got drunk and wrote songs about unrequited love, he knew better than to try and put himself between them.

Roche rolled his eyes as Jaskier and Geralt still just stared at the group rather dumbly. He pointed upwards and their eyes followed his finger.

Geralt, very unfortunately, was halfway into a doorway. Taped to the top of the frame of said doorway was a little sprig of green. Jaskier felt his heart stop. He had to swallow to keep the bile from rising up in his throat. He pulled away from where he was leaning on Geralt. The group was still laughing and teasing good-naturedly, but Jaskier felt like his world was crashing down around him. He looked toward Eskel for help, being the kindest of the group.

Only Eskel just shrugged with a grin. “It is tradition.”

“Oh come on, now,” Yennefer said, her voice twisting around Jaskier’s throat like a noose. “We’re all adults here. Just get it over with.”

Jaskier slowly met Geralt’s eyes. He was impossible to read, even moreso than normal, and Jaskier felt that familiar pit open up in his stomach. He needed to get this over with and then smoothly make his escape. Perhaps claim he’d had more to drink than he thought and needed to call a cab.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked quietly, barely more than a whisper.

Jaskier gave him a small smile and leaned forward. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the scruff of Geralt’s cheek before pulling away, his heart not able to take much more than that.

Jaskier couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he walked away.

Jaskier’s kiss was a barely-there peck to the cheek. Before Geralt could even hope to respond, he was gone.

The group’s teasing had quieted down, and Geralt dared to look up. Iorveth and Roche seemed confused, not close enough to the rest of the group to be caught up on the drama. Eskel seemed torn between beating himself up and beating Geralt up. Triss seemed guilty.

And Yennefer was just smug.

Geralt found himself grinding his teeth. Of course she was behind this (though it was clear that Triss had some hand in it, as well). Their most recent breakup, for once, had been amicable. The past few years had been hell for them, trying to make their relationship work even though they both knew it was never going anywhere. Jaskier was Yennefer’s last straw.

Geralt was more horrified that Yennefer had so easily picked up on his feelings for Jaskier than hurt by the breakup. If she had picked up on them, then surely Jaskier had?

Is that what that hauntingly sad smile Jaskier gave him before he kissed him was for? Did Jaskier pity him? Was he trying to let Geralt down easy?

“Go after him,” she said simply.

“Yen, this isn’t one of your games--”

“No,” she replied, voice suddenly terse. “So stop treating it like one and act like an adult, Geralt. I think we’ve all had quite enough of you two being like this, and it only got worse after last year’s party.”

“Which you still won’t talk about,” Triss chimed in, raising an eyebrow.

“So go talk to him.”

Geralt resisted the urge to growl. “Fine.”

Jaskier wasn’t hard to find, when you knew him as well as Geralt did. He liked to be high up when he was upset, saying it made him feel like he was getting some perspective on his problems. Geralt liked to joke that it was because he was more at home with his head in the clouds.

Jaskier was on a balcony overlooking the city, a pack of cigarettes sitting on the railing. A lit one rested between his fingers, the smoke curling into the air and entwining with the condensation trailing from his lips thanks to the cold air.

“I thought you quit,” Geralt said quietly.

Jaskier turned his head, not far enough to face Geralt but far enough to let Geralt see the wry half smile on his lips.

“You know how the holidays are,” Jaskier replied, taking a long drag from his cigarette and turning back to the cityscape.

Geralt moved forward to lean against the railing next to him, letting out a heavy sigh and watching the white vapor twist into the air. He didn’t know how to have this conversation. Between the two of them, Jaskier was by far the more emotionally intelligent one. With him shutting down like this, Geralt didn’t know what to say.

“Are you… okay?”

Jaskier snorted. “Yeah, Geralt. I’m great.”

Geralt considered the words for a few moments, turning around the tone of voice in his head. “Sarcasm,” he decided. 

It was much easier to decipher when he himself was using it, rather than try to pick out when others were.

Jaskier sighed, hanging his head. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Geralt shook his head. “What’s going on?”

Jaskier took another drag of his cigarette. “Nothing, Geralt. Don’t worry about it.”

Geralt let out a frustrated growl, not sure how else to express himself in the moment. He snatched the pack of cigarettes off the railing (breathing out a sigh of relief when only one was missing -- the one between Jaskier’s fingers) and ripped the lit one out of Jaskier’s hand, tossing both items over the edge of the balcony.

“What the fuck, Geralt?!”

Geralt stared at him. “You told me last time you quit to not let you start up again.”

Jaskier groaned and put his head into his hands. “Shit. I did, didn’t I?”

Geralt hummed an affirmative.

“Aside from saving my lungs, was there something you needed, Geralt?”

Geralt leaned back against the railing, clasping his hands together. “To know what’s had you acting so weird all night.”

He felt Jaskier’s eyes on him, could see him staring out of his peripheral, but Geralt kept his eyes on the lights of the city. With all the light pollution, it was probably as close to stars as they would get without driving out to the mountains.

“You really want to know?” Jaskier asked eventually, his voice low.

“Yes.”

“Tonight I was pressured into kissing the man that broke my heart, about a year ago now.”

Geralt flinched back, finally looking over toward Jaskier. Jaskier was still staring at him, his blue eyes almost seeming to glow in the dark of the balcony.

“Who--Who broke--”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, face remaining impassive.

Geralt hesitated. “I broke your heart?”

Jaskier sighed and turned away, looking toward the horizon. “Last holiday party, we went home together. We made love for hours. I told you I cared for you deeply. And when I woke up, you were gone.”

Geralt wanted to say something, wanted to defend himself, but his voice felt like it was glued in his throat, unable to escape.

“Barely any time had passed before you were back in Yennefer’s pocket, not a thought given to us. And we never talked about it.”

Geralt swallowed. “I didn’t realize--”

Jaskier threw his hands up in the air, a frustrated laugh escaping his lips. Geralt’s frown deepened when he saw Jaskier’s eyes glistening.

“Didn’t realize what, Geralt? I thought I was being pretty obvious about the fact that I’m in love with you!”

“Yennefer and I broke up,” Geralt said, deciding to tackle the topic he knew how to talk about first.

Jaskier snorted, leaning his back against the railing and crossing his arms. “What else is new?”

Geralt shook his head. “For good, this time.”

Jaskier only stared at him. Geralt huffed out a breath as he searched for his words, running a hand through his hair.

“You know how… Sometimes, you can have a great friendship with each other, but when you try to date you end up being really toxic and horrible to each other? That’s me and Yen.”

“Could’ve told you that three years ago. Oh wait, I did.”

Geralt sighed. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t listen, Jask. I just… I wanted it to work so bad, we both did. Even though we knew it never would.”

Jaskier looked down at his feet. “I know. I’m sorry for snapping like that.”

“It’s okay.”

Jaskier looked back up at him. “So what was the final nail in the coffin? What sealed the deal for you two?”

Geralt looked away, choosing a specific building to look at and staring at it intensely. His fingers itched to fiddle with something, but he forced them to stay still, clenching the freezing metal of the railing.

“I love Yen. But she and I both realized that I would never love her as much as I loved you.”

The silence stretched on for far too long and Geralt could feel his skin prickling with anxiety. His throat felt like it had swollen shut, making it difficult to breathe and impossible to get any words out. He wanted to look at Jaskier, see his reaction, but his body was locked in place.

“And if you love me so much, Geralt,” Jaskier said, his voice even more icy than the balcony railing leeching the warmth from his fingers, “why did you leave me?”

Geralt gave into the urge to fidget, reaching up for the pendant on his chest. His fingers were clumsy and numb from the cold, making him fumble, but the action was still soothing.

“I didn’t realize you meant it. Jaskier, you flirt with everyone. You’ve probably slept with half the company, and while I don’t judge you for that, I couldn’t help but feel like I was just the next notch in your bedpost.”

Jaskier dropped his face into his hands. “God, Geralt, I only slept with most of those people to try and get over you. You had Yennefer, and I was just me. I knew you would never choose me over her.”

“I am now.”

Jaskier stayed silent for a moment. “And if I decide that it’s too late?”

There was an uncomfortable burning feeling behind Geralt’s eyes and he did his best to push it back down. 

“Then I would respect your decision, and hope we could still be friends come tomorrow. I don’t want to lose you, Jask.”

Jaskier didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I’m sorry I was so blind to your feelings.”

“And say we did do this,” Jaskier said, his voice still guarded. “What about Yennefer?”

Geralt shook his head. “There’s nothing left for me and Yen. We’re done hurting each other for a relationship that will never feel good.” Geralt couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips as he tacked on, “Plus, with the looks Triss has been shooting her, I don’t think Yennefer will be too lonely.”

Jaskier shot him an incredulous look. “Triss and Yennefer hate each other!”

Geralt chuckled. “Yeah, when I was involved. Yen can, quite frankly, be a jealous bitch, and Triss certainly wasn’t letting up on the flirting.”

Jaskier searched his face. “And Triss?”

“There was never going to be any me and Triss, and she knew that. Honestly, I think her flirting these days has been more to toy with Yen than to actually try and woo me.”

Jaskier turned his gaze toward the night sky, a muddy brown-black-orange that ruined any hope of seeing the stars “Huh.”

“They both know there’s only one person I’m looking to woo me, anyway.”

Geralt watched Jaskier break out in a goofy, giddy smile, clearly involuntarily based on the way he quickly bit his lip to try and suppress it. Slowly, carefully, Geralt reached out for one of Jaskier’s hands, tugging gently until his arms came unravelled.

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier.”

Jaskier shook his head. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve said something.”

“Can I hug you?”

Jaskier’s goofy smile was back and Geralt felt his heart clench. He hoped to see that smile so much more.

“Only if I can kiss you,” Jaskier replied, bouncing on his toes a little.

Geralt grinned. “I find that an acceptable trade.”

Jaskier laughed then, pulling him into a tight hug. They stayed like that for a long while, sharing heat and just soaking in each other’s presence. Slowly starting to accept that this was real, that this was happening. Geralt clenched his hands tightly into Jaskier’s sweater.

And then, some long minutes later, they pulled back from the hug just enough to press their lips together. It was soft and chaste, but by no means short. Geralt decided that kissing Jaskier felt like coming home.

They slipped away after that, deciding not to head back to the party. Their friends would assume things, sure, but they didn’t care. They had lost time to make up for, they could make up for not saying goodbye later.

Geralt drove them home, back to Jaskier’s flat just like last year. Jaskier fiddled with the radio as the streets blurred around them, trying to find an appropriately-themed holiday station. He burst into cackles the second he found one.

“Tell me this is not Wham!,” Geralt begged.

Jaskier was laughing too hard to reply.

“I hate it,” Geralt said, despite being on the verge of laughter himself. “I hate it so much. Stop laughing, it’s not funny.”

“It’s so funny!” Jaskier wheezed, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in his seat.

Jaskier had only just barely calmed down by the time they got to his flat. They curled up on his ratty old couch with some hot chocolate and put on a Christmas movie, but it became more background noise than anything. 

Instead they talked. They talked about their past together and how it hurt them, and their future and how they would prevent that from hurting too. They talked until Geralt’s throat was sore and Jaskier was nodding off on his shoulder. Geralt couldn’t find the energy to carry him to bed, so he simply readjusted their position on the couch to be something more comfortable and settled in to sleep himself.

“L’ve ‘ou” Jaskier breathed out against his neck.

Geralt smiled, closing his eyes. “Love you too, Jaskier.

[jasontoddiefor]

hey so for the emporer luke thing would luke eventually get to see biggs/meet him cuz they're cool

As if I could leave my second fave Tatooine kid out of any OT story! Read on AO3

Biggs Darklighter was fifteen years old and he still dreamed of going to the stars someday. He was a good son, helped in the household, and took care of his younger siblings, and would his parents ask him to stay, then Biggs would. If they’d let him go though, Biggs would seek the unknown parts of the galaxy, chase after the adventures he had dreamed of ever since he was a little boy, running around in the courtyard of his family’s home or jumping up and down on Luke’s bed, pretending to be a ship in the sky.

It was strange how easily he had accepted Luke’s disappearance when he was younger. Tatooine was a harsh planet, cruel to the bone, and the death of a loved one happened far too often to be unfamiliar with how tightly life and death were woven together. He hadn’t forgotten about Luke, had mourned his friend and joined his mother on her trips to the Lars homestead, but he hadn’t let Luke’s fate dominate his every waking thought. There had been other things to worry about, such as the suddenly escalating conflicts due to Jabba’s death.

Now it seemed like the exact opposite was happening to Biggs. He couldn’t keep his friend out of his mind. The weekly trips to the Lars homestead, checking in on its state and the refugees hiding there for the next transport that would them smuggle off-world, were now spent trying to see whether Biggs could find any sign of His Imperial Highness in the murals and carvings they had made into Luke’s bedroom walls as children. He had been there when they had found Beru and Owen’s bodies, eleven years old and wondering whether Luke had made used of his uncanny ability to hide away so that he hadn’t been killed too. His aunt and uncle had been half-buried in the sand already, left behind to rot without a proper funeral. It had been easy to figure out what exactly had caused their deaths and what it meant for Luke. In the aftermath, when the news of Jabba’s violent end had reached even the Darklighters, they had traveled to the palace and the nearby city once, trying to see if anybody had heard of a child by the name of Luke Skywalker, but nobody had known a thing.

And then, just a year later, Luke had appeared again.

The Republic had never really cared about Tatooine and neither had the Empire, but even they had heard rather quickly about the Emperor’s death and his heir.

The Luke in the holos had looked like a doll, fake and imaginary, like a wind spirit. His face hadn’t been any different, it still matched the one Biggs remembered, but nothing else seemed to fit, not his name, not even his accent.

And yet he had been sure that the child appearing in front of the Senate was his friend.

All that had remained from Luke Skywalker were his blue eyes, the blond hair and the kindness that had made the other children scoff at him. Luke had been too good to understand, to naïve or perhaps he just hadn’t cared for their petty words. Biggs hadn’t known how he could smile so openly when the others took their teasing to far, but Luke had never lowered his head, at least not where he could see it.

Biggs missed his best friend, the one who would help him fix up old droids and fly speeders and skyhoppers more accurately than anybody else, even though he really shouldn’t be able to do so. Luke would certainly have the time of his life now, rushing across the sands at maximum speed, the wind hitting his face so harshly it almost cut into it. Luke had always enjoyed listening to the wind, from the sweet breezes in spring to the heavy sandstorms towards the end of drought season. Being stuck inside with nothing to do hadn’t been too bad with Luke around to narrate what the wind was telling him.

The distance between the Darklighter homestead and the Lars’ Rest, as they had come to call that safehouse, wasn’t too large. Biggs crossed it quickly even in his slightly beat-up ride that could use an upgrade or two. As far as he knew, no runaways should be staying there for the remainder of the week until they got the next group through. There were fewer and fewer slaves in need of transport nowadays. Tatooine was still, as it had been for the last years since Luke’s disappearance, caught in civil war between the former Hutt slaves, freedom fighters, whatever good soul they could convince to join their cause and those crime syndicates who sought to make use of cheap labor. Where the Hutts had that thought they could reclaim Tatooine quickly following Jabba’s death, Tatooine had wanted to prove them wrong. More and more slaves had escaped every day, more people stood up to fight for what they believed to be right.

Biggs wasn’t allowed to do much, not really. His older sister and her partners were heavily involved in the fights while Biggs could only do supply runs. He knew they were important, but he itched to do something more proactive.

But perhaps that wouldn’t be necessary anymore.

It had become more and more obvious that the Hutts were also a thorn in the side of the Empire and whoever was actually pulling the strings behind their Emperor was set to do something about it. There had been skirmishes so far, a few imprisonments. Nothing too large yet, but the horizon was darkening and if the last years had shown anything, then that the Empire didn’t tolerate disobedience. Biggs wasn’t sure how it would influence Tatooine at large. He didn’t know all that much about the way the Hutts operated on a galactic scale, but he figured that whatever took their attention away from Tatooine, even if just for a while, was good.

Soon Biggs was approaching Lars’ Rest and was surprised to see figures standing in the distance. Biggs frowned and slowed down his craft. He was absolutely certain that no group should be coming in today. The position of Lars’ Rest was kept quiet so that no slaver would discover this particular hideout. The only other groups that knew of it were smugglers and the sand people, though they hardly bothered coming down the underground tracks these days. They had decided to target moisture farms far deeper into their territory or, in the case of some clans who were not as isolated,  target the rich of Tatooine so the poor would cease trying to expand further into the desert.

Biggs reached for his rifle. If they were slavers, he had to be ready. It was obvious that he was doing supply runs, who else would be out here, and if they took him, that could be disastrous for the whole organization.

Tatooine was a horrible planet to plan an ambush on. Sand for miles, the open desert, and skies, nothing could hide you or provide adequate cover. Once your enemy spotted you, that was it.

Biggs could of course leave, drive back home. They didn’t keep anything too incriminating at their homestead, so even if they were to follow him, there was be nothing to be found there. And yet, somehow, Biggs couldn’t bring himself to do so as anger flared up in his stomach like the midday heat.

That house had belonged to his best friend. It was supposed to be a safe haven now when before its inhabitants had found death or worse. Nobody had any right to ruin those memories.

With newfound bravery and strength, Biggs sped up again. He was a good shot, the best in his family, he’d definitely hit them before they could shoot him.

As Biggs got closer, he saw that the group was larger than he had thought at first. Ten, perhaps fifteen figures. He had been confused because their forms had not been easy to make out with the sun bearing down on their light uniforms, no, armor. The armor was mostly white, but some patterns appeared to have been drawn on it. He saw the green ones first, their color standing out the most against the yellow and blue background of Tatooine. Then there some men with blue, orange, and red patterns, those being much harder to see. Biggs’ eyes were good, but not that excellent.

Nevertheless, he readied his rifle. It was easy to get stormtrooper uniform, and to paint it in the color of the Emperor’s guard was even easier.

Biggs took aim. He wasn’t going to shoot unprovoked, but he was going to shoot first if the situation escalated.

“Hey!” He shouted once he was within hearing distance. “Get the hell out of here!”

As expected, the armed men immediately raised their weapons as well. Biggs didn’t know why they hadn’t done that the moment they had seen him. Now that he was standing in front of them, Biggs wasn’t so sure his move had been the smartest. There were way too many of them and only one him.

“Move away,” one of the troopers, a red one, said.

His armor looked pristine, the paint new. This has to be a trick, though he no idea what somebody would get from parading around in trooper armor here. There were certainly more effective ways to pretend to have more power than you actually did on this planet.

“This land doesn’t belong to you,” Biggs said, forcing his voice not to waver. “Move.”

“Listen here, kid,” one of the troopers said, then suddenly stopped talking. Another man had put his hand on the man’s shoulder and leaned forward, probably telling him something. Even though Biggs couldn’t see their faces, they didn’t look too concerned by it all

“I’m not joking!” Biggs insisted and raised his blaster just a little more, set on using it if need be. “I will-“

“Biggs?”

The voice was barely louder than a whisper, certainly not above the noise the wind and the engine were making, and yet Biggs still heard it clearly.

“Your Majesty-“ The red trooper hissed, but in between the trooper’s bodies, a smaller form pushed through.

The person was short, but not as by far not as tall as the holos made him out to be. His hair had darkened as well, wasn’t the light blond Biggs remembered, but the eyes, clear blue, were definitely the same.

“Luke?” Biggs couldn’t believe it.

His clothes were far too fine for Tatooine, at least for standing outside where sand could easily get stuck everywhere on your skin. His robes looked soft and were decorated with gold and red lines interconnecting to images reminiscent of flowers and vines.

The boy's face split into a smile and he looked like he’d jump into a sprint if not for the trooper’s hand on his shoulder.

“Biggs! It really is you!” Luke said excitedly. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. I was hoping someone would look after the farm, but I-“

He cut himself off to shake his head, a gesture so familiar that it had to be Luke standing in front of him, brilliant pilot, Emperor of the galaxy.

Biggs hurried off his speeder and fell to his knees.

[tomiyeee]

9& 16 for the ask!

under cut cuz long lol

9) Thoughts on the redesigns?

vert with a goatee feels fitting. it’d be hard to change the main character much more than that and i’ve already long been warmed up to goatees on characters since, what...ffxv? so i like it. wish they had made his surferness more apparent, but his design is too sexy as is to fit that anywhere without destroying the aesthetic. the tank top’s good enough and it’s cute as hell anyway. 9.5/10

kadeem is vastly different, but both versions look good, tho Acc does have more recognizable features (primarily the hair) which makes that version easier to draw. that’s part of the reason i haven’t drawn much banj/kadeem since they are the hardest for me :( there’s just not much to ‘em. 7/10

lani is certainly a lot more unique in Acc. the hoop earrings are a nice touch, even if they may not be practical as a mechanic. i applaud her for being confident enough to work with large machinery and cars without ripping her ears off. i appreciate that they didn’t go overboard with her hawai’i background, though they very easily could have; she’s just someone who happens to be from hawai’i and i love that bc same hat. wish she couldve been more differentiated from karma, tho that’d probably be better solved on karma’s side than lani’s. blue girl w/pale skin and black ponytail is already taken, make karma a red head or smth. also my friend mentioned giving lani a more neutral, less teku-themed color scheme, like purple and yeah. also ditch the bug eyes, they’re always unsettling to look at on her, tone, and taro. 8/10

markie has an excuse. 1/10

kurt got more boring in both aesthetic and personality. street breed had the coolest uniforms and overall theme, but in Acc kurt has the messiest outfit on teku--everyone else has pretty coherent outfits that u can kinda get the gist of and draw from memory with one glance. his just looks like a mess of colors and graphics slapped onto a skin-tight jumpsuit. what is that shit on his legs. haircut bad too. he’s at least recognizable. 5/10

taro...honestly i think i’ve built up an immunity to acceleracers proportions enough to not have a visceral reaction to seeing him anymore. a lot of it really is just amplified by his disproportionately sexy WR design. i wish they had kept some semblance of his original design for consistency’s sake, but on it’s own it’s not really any more or less fucked up than any other Acc designs. purple lipstick bad. that outfit? burn it. sir you are a millionaire, stop digging in the trash for clothing. go buy urself something nice and buy some clothes for ur friends too while ur at it. 3/10

WR tezla looks marginally better than Acc (or what is the other way around? dont remember) but his full body cast is stupid. chin pistons??? moon shoes??? giant metal mickey mouse gloves??? what are you doing old man?? 4/10

gelorum got worse but more iconic. her WR design looked cooler and fit her vibes better but looked generic; if you saw fanart of her w/o context it’d prob be hard to recognize what she’s from. Acc is much better in that regard but the hair style is weird and the green face lines are cool in concept but could’ve been done better. collar feels out of place, would replace with just a higher collar on the dress. design overall feels very off-balance, with most of the details and non-black colors only at the top and left (with her arm) and the bottom 80% just being a plain black dress. most of the robot parts don’t make sense no matter how you look at it--why just the one robot arm? why the green face lines/forehead plate? why the collar?--and just feel slapped on for the hell of it. good concept, poor execution. 3/10

16) Any crossover/AU ideas?

so many...gonna dump em all here since i realize i dont think ive put these anywhere outside our discord

httyd - i’ve actually posted designs for synkro, bassline, and nightlife as well as a drone as dragons. there’s also a power rage nadder that i never posted anywhere. it’s not a finalized design, just the first iteration that i never bothered to go back n refine at all.

tf2 - ...yeah

overwatch - not much thought put into this beyond vague similarities, but still fun to think about :)

(incomplete) pokemon teams - never got the chance to go thru n find 6 for each of em, but some do have types/themes. asterisks are their aces.

[ten0rreaper]

Here’s my entry to the @pnatsecretsanta for 2020! @quarktrinity, I hope you enjoy! It’ll be crossposted to ao3, link will be in a reblog. Thank you for your patience!

Isabel: hey so

Isabel: when are u going to get here

Max: wat?

Max: its xmas ev

Isabel: you really need to get a new phone

Isabel: and remember? youre supposed to come to my place tonight, wait it out

Isabel: max?

Isabel: if you were spacing out again im going to kill you

Isabel: you WERE doing the face again now that i think about it

Max: u guys ned 2 mak imprtnt info cler. Y i spcd

Isabel: you need to listen! this time mr spender remembered to tell u and everything. youre not allowed to be mad at us this time

Isabel: in short, get ur butt over here before midnight. sneak out if u need to, thats what isaac does

Isabel: in long, if u dont santas gonna kill u

----

“Let me get this straight.” 11:30 P.M. December 24th, 20XX. Max sat in Ed’s room on a chair hastily drawn up, with a jacket pulled hastily over his pajamas and hat still jammed on his head, massaging his temples. “Santa’s real, he’s a spirit, and he hates all spectrals and is coming to kill us?”

“That’s a bit of an oversimplification, but yeah,” Isaac said, and Max shot him a glare. He could hear that smugness. “So like, there’s a lot of spirits that kinda grow from ideas humans have, right? I don’t know what’s up with Scrapdragon, but like, Muse came from the ideas around ancient Greek muses, like his name. They can be really off base but still have the same ideas- like Lucifer, Mr. Spender’s spirit, is just some lightbulb guy, but Lucifer does mean light and stuff, so they can just be along those lines. But like, a LOT of kids believe in Santa and think about him a lot, so there’ve been a few spirits that manifested around the idea of a guy who can get anywhere to deliver presents to good kids and punishments to bad ones, especially with stories like Krampus too.”

“But most spirits can’t interact with humans, so this guy mostly goes around to other spirits and ghosts and stuff,” Isabel said, distracted by her attempts to spin her umbrella like a top. “So he likes spirits a lot. And we kick a lot of spirit butt,” she punctuated this with a particular spirited spin of the umbrella, “so he hates us and comes to try to kill us every year. And because he can teleport, he can get inside the barrier. So gramps makes us all stay with him until sunrise every year so that all the adults can fight off santa and his reindeer so we don’t get put in a sack and teleported somewhere.”

Max groans and tries to fall backwards in his chair, but the chair doesn’t budge. “Your paint really isn’t good for drama,” Max informed Ed.

“Don’t be so dramatic then,” Ed snickered. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Says you, You just stay at home all night. I have to sneak out! My dad’ll kill me if he finds out!”

“I just put a pillow in my blankets and it’s fine,” Isaac says with a shrug. “If your dad looks harder than that, we probably have a tool lying around that can wipe memories or something.”

“I don’t want to mind wipe my dad,” Max grumbled, but resigned himself to slumping grumpily in his chair to watch Ed play some punching game or whatever. Bad enough that his own baseball bat might want to eat him, and he was trapped in this town with no way out- now Christmas hated him too. 

Isaac caught his eye and smiled sympathetically. “You get used to it,” he whispered.

“I thought I was used to it a month ago.”

Max jumped as a knock on the door sounded, glaring at Isabel’s laughter. The door opened without waiting for a response. Mr. Spender poked his head in through the door with a goofy grin. “Alright, kids! You all ready for this year’s Christmas night?”

Ed didn’t even look away from his video game, waving lazily. “We could use some snacks. That’d be nice.”

“Yeah, where are the snacks, old man? You want us to starve?” Isabel waved her umbrella at him like a grumpy old woman might a cane.

“You’re well fed enough already. I made sure of that.” It spoke wonders to how used to this existence Max had become that Mr. Spender knocking politely had scared him, but Isabel’s grandpa floating through the wall didn’t. The man’s bulk and imperious gaze still caused him some anxiety, though, and he had to consciously remind himself that he’s a punk, he’s cool, and he doesn’t respect anyone’s authority, even a scary ghost’s. Yeah, totally. 

The atmosphere of the room quickly shifted, and Isabel’s eyes dropped. “Yeah, I was just joking. Sorry, Grandpa.”

“Joke or not, this night is too much effort to make light of. My students and I are putting ourselves at risk for you,” Mr. Guerra said, looming over the room, “so only vocalize a need if you need it.”

Isabel glowered at the carpet. “Alright, Grandpa…”

“So. I will ask again. Are you all prepared? Midnight strikes soon.”

“We are, sir,” Isaac said. Max fought not to pull a face at Isaac’s please pay attention to me, authority figure tone, but for once it was helpful, so whatever. He could let it slide. 

Mr. Guerra eyed Isaac. “...good. We’ll get you once the sun begins to rise.” And with that, he turned away and slid down through the floor. Max could already hear him barking at the pupils below.

Mr. Spender grimaced. “Well… good! Everything’s all set then.”

Isabel grumbled, picking at the carpet.

“...trust me,” Mr. Spender said, forcing audibly fake cheer into his voice, “This isn’t a hassle at all. You guys getting stuffed into a sack- now, that would be quite the kerfuffle!”

They all stared as Mr. Spender slowly deflated. “...sure,” Max said. “Uh, we’ll be good, stay up here, it’s fine.”

“Great.” Mr. Spender nodded, stared awkwardly for a moment, and stepped out the door. “Well, Merry Christmas, children!” He shut the door behind him. Max listened with the others as his footsteps hurried down the hall to the stairwell.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, a distinctly uncomfortable experience for Max. It was almost impossible not to ramble, and he was reaching his breaking point and about to open the floodgates of inane and overly verbose chatter when Ed, thankfully, took point.

“That sucked,” he said simply, and Isabel groaned and fell back.

“I hate when he does that!” Isabel laid her umbrella by her side and waved her hands in the air exasperatedly. “It’s like he has no in between and I’m always either The Best And He’s So Disappointed In Me For Not Being Perfect or A Helpless Kid He Needs To Do Everything For! He always gets like this tonight!”

Ed paused his game, and reached around to pat her on the knee. “I mean, we could prove him wrong. We beat up spirits all the time, how hard could this be?”

“Okay, hold up, hand on,” Max said. “No? I- this is a terrible idea, you just got finished telling me about how if I wasn’t here I’d be killed by Santa, and now you want to go out there and fight Santa?”

“Well, not Santa,” Ed said. “Duh. He mostly just sends his reindeer to do everything and hangs out on rooftops.”

“And no offence Max, but uh…” Isaac scratched the back of his head.

“You’d totally get killed if you were on your own.” Isabel flipped herself upright. “All you got is that dinky bat, and magnet powers. You can’t even do a spec shot, dude, you’d get thrown in a sack in no time. We’d be fine.”

Max crossed his arms. “Alright, screw you too.”

“But other than that… that sounds like it could be pretty fun.” Isabel grinned. “Show the old man and his big dumb deer who’s boss. Maybe then he’ll stop coming to Mayview every year.”

“That would be pretty nice actually.” Isaac was clearly thinking hard- he had his broody face on. “I would like to stop having to sneak out every year. Sooner or later my parents will notice.”

Max shuddered. “Actually, yeah, Isaac has a point. I don’t want to die to Rudolph or anything, but if we keep having to do this, I’ll die to my dad, which is way worse honestly.”

“Your dad’s a teddy bear,” Isabel said, and rolled her eyes. “Stop complaining.”

“You haven’t seen him when I fail a test!”

“So are we going or what?” Isabel was already pulling her jacket back on, tucking her umbrella firmly under her arm. Ed bounced on the balls of his feet with a grin, already eyeing up the window and painting himself a rope. 

Max looked at Isaac, who shrugged and got to his feet. Max sighed, and stood up, regretfully leaving his scooter on the floor. “Yeah, alright. We’re going.”

Well, Max was regretting this. He was regretting this so much. He tromped through the snowy woods, eternally grateful for his boots. “Why in the world do we have to fight the spirits of Christmas in the woods? Why can’t we do it in town, or like, on the road at least? The roads we salted. The roads wouldn’t be as cold.”

“Cuz we’d get caught, dummy,” Isabel snorted. Or maybe it was a sniffle. “Either someone from the dojo would hear us and yell at us and get in the way before we can prove anything, or someone in town would yell at us and call the cops or something.”

“Maybe having people nearby to help isn’t a bad thing? You can’t just say that after saying that I’m the most likely person to die!”

“You came out here anyway,” Isaac pointed out, and looked all too unaffected by Max’s glare.

“I hate you. I hate you with everything in my being you- you chump elf.”

Isabel laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, this place looks pretty good, huh?” She stopped, looking around the snowy clearing they’d come into and turning in place. She nodded, satisfied. “There’s room to fight here, and we could come up with some pretty solid traps. Isaac wouldn’t have to worry too much about blasting a bunch of trees.”

“Looks pretty good!” Ed pulled off a mitten with his teeth and dug his paint brush out of his pocket. “What’re you thinkin, Izzy? Tripwire? Net?”

“Let’s go net,” Isaac said. “They can fly.”

“Plus, last time you tripped Isaac, remember?” Isabel elbowed Ed in the side. “Max and I are pretty fast, but Isaac needs some help.”

“Please. I can jump higher than your house is tall.”

“But you still fell just flat on your face,” she cooed. Isaac grumbled, cursing her just loud enough for Isabel to overhear, but she just batted her eyes and paid him no mind. “Okay, so,” she said, looking up at the sky through the hole in the canopy, “we probably only have a few more minutes before one of the reindeer finds us-”

And that’s when a dark shape, faster than cheetah and twice as forceful, barrelled into Max.  And off he went, hanging by the hood of his jacket on a wicked sharp antler prong, into the sky and away to the sound of jingling bells.

----

Things were quiet this year, Richard reflected. It was honestly a relief- maybe the spirit had finally given up. Probably too much to hope for, but, Christmas miracles and all. In any case, there seemed to be plenty of time to get the kids some mugs of hot cocoa and cookies to wait out the night with.

“Need any help balancing those?” Day asked, and Richard felt his mood become momentarily strained.

“Actually, that would be nice, if you think you could.” The tray of mugs and cookies he was balancing was quite the challenge, after all. Day reached up and somehow grabbed the plates of cookies perfectly- Spender could swear he saw her eyes flash for a moment, smart woman- and left him to balance the four mugs. A much easier task now.

“I really thought things would be more eventful, with how much Francisco was fussing over it, but everything’s pretty quiet, isn’t it?” Day smiled and followed Richard’s footsteps to the stairs.

“Well, usually there’s more cause for it, but the spirits seem to be laying low this year. Not an unwelcome reprieve in the slightest, but I do worry about Max… if this isn’t the new status quo, I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“He’s a- well, he seems like a really smart kid,” Day reassured him. “I think he’ll make sure to be careful next year too!”

“I hope so. He does seem resourceful, but… he can be reckless.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said, before stopping with a small frown on her face. “They’re being pretty quiet…”

Spender listened for a moment himself. “Hm, they are… mayhaps they went to bed early?”

“That doesn’t sound like them.”

“No,” he said, dread creeping into his heart. “It doesn’t.”

He set the tray of cookies on the floor. He approached Ed’s room. He knocked.

He opened the door.

Richard’s lips thinned into a grim line as he surveyed the dark room. “They’re gone.”

------

Max screamed for his life as he was lifted faster than he could process into the sky. It was a clear, starry night, and they all looked like streaks as his captor circled through the sky, closer and closer to the top of the dome before colliding headfirst into it. Max didn’t have any more air in his lungs to scream as he was jostled loose and began to fall down, down- only to be caught again, this time like a sack of potatoes on the spirit’s back. He was overwhelmed by the sound of silver bells as he caught his breath, eyes screwed tightly shut.

Eventually, his lungs rallied to his call, and he was able to take in an unpleasant few gulps of animal-scented air. Max cracked his eyes open a peek- and immediately shut them again. Too high. He was way, way too high up. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, and the wind burned his face and the tips of his ears.

Hold on.

“My hat,” he wheezed reaching one hand up to grope the top of his head. “My hat’s gone!”

“Soon that will be of no matter.”

Max screamed- even he was getting fed up with his own screams at this point, but instinct didn’t seem to be on the same page.

“Quiet,” the rumbling voice said, and the spirit turned to look at Max. “Your sounds irritate me.”

The spirit that held Max on its back was by far the biggest deer of any Max had ever seen. It was shaggy and majestic, even as its fur was electric yellow, and its huge rack of knife-like antlers shivered as if they were made of candle flame. Its many eyes blinked, and it beared serrated teeth- a stark contrast to the many silver bells that seemed a part of its pelt. Max looked away, avoiding its cruel gaze, to see three pairs of legs, hooves thundering over empty air. And below him, seven more enormous shapes were blazing their way towards the distant forest clearing, led by an eerie red light. “Oh no, oooooh no, no no no no no no…”

“But yes, child. At last you have been retrieved, and soon your friends will be as well. Then, you can all face your punishment.” The spirit laughed cruelly. “I am Dasher, and I was simply the herald.”

“So you’re just, you’re just Dasher? Like from the poem? One of those things down there is…” Jeez, this was surreal. “...Donner? And, Vixen?”

“Many tremble in fear before those names. It would do you right to show some respect.”

“What? No, nobody does! You guys are like, goofy little stop motion dolls, man, how’d you guys end up looking like this?”

“Our powers are untold by your human poems-”

“Aren’t you guys based on the poems?!”

Dasher snorted and tossed his head in anger. “That is an egregious oversimplification-”

“I thought your name was Dasher, not Dictionary.”

The spirit cried out in frustration, and Max felt something in him settle a bit better. Poking things with words, he could do that. Just don’t look down. “So, uh,” he began, shifting a bit so it was less like he was thrown over Dasher and more like he was riding him, “why am I not in a sack yet?”

“Our pilot is attending to his annual business in Mayview,” Dasher growled. “It is we who have the ability to fight and fly- so it is we who collect naughty children. Once your compatriots have been obtained, then we may return to our stations.”

“Wow,” Max drawled. “I can’t believe Santa needs his reindeer to deal with three preteens.”

“You do have a teenager within your ranks. That does provide some extra challenge.”

“Whoa, wait, really?”

“Yes. He cannot fully be counted as a child by our pilot any longer- he has aged enough to become a teenager. It is not he that we seek.”

“Wow, that’s weirdly arbitrary and nitpicky.” Max was so going to tease Isaac about this later. If he didn’t, well, get thrown into a sack and… baked into a pie? Eaten alive? Thrown into a dungeon? Whatever. Try to be positive.

“If you take issue, you may air your complaints to our pilot.”

“Taking it straight to the manager, alright.” Max stared at his hands, balled in bright yellow fur, and took a deep breath as he relaxed them. He wasn’t going to fall, he was certain Dasher wouldn’t allow him, channel a Karen- and he released the fur, balancing on the spirit’s back with only his legs. Before he could lose his nerve, he swung his backpack off his shoulder and grabbed his bat. Okay, weapon acquired. Just… what to do with it.

Dasher huffed. “Puny weapon. Even with the power of an enslaved spirit, you cannot defeat me. Especially not with a spirit as weak as that one.”

“Ugh, not you too,” Max grumbled. At least this thing wasn’t getting aggressive. “I’m kinda tired of being called the weak one, it’s getting old.”

“It would have been better, then, if you had kept your power to yourself, and not bothered the true denizens of this world, as the other child does.”

“Other child-? You know what, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I do not care. Now let me think.” Max re-gripped Dasher tightly, this time grabbing the reigns, and looked around. Man, of course Max got magnet powers in the place where there’s no tall buildings anywhere- it would be great if they could pass by a skyscraper or two for Max to attach himself to. But alas… then, his eyes caught a gleam, a dark silhouette against the colorful lights of Mayview. 

A transmission tower in the woods. And they were heading right for it. Max shrugged his backpack back on to his shoulder and gripped his bat as tight as he could.

“Thinking will get you nowhere, child.”

“Yeah, but it’ll keep me quiet,” Max mumbled.

“True,” Dasher said. And started to turn back towards the clearing.

“No!” Max yelped, holding his bat out desperately- he knew the tower was too distant still, but he put all his will into the bat, trying to extend its power as far as he can-

Dasher lurched beneath him with a confused cry, the bells jangled, and Max’s focus was broken with a shout. Immediately, Dasher steadied beneath him.

“Child, if you do that again I will throw you off into the ground-”

“What- I don’t even know what I did-” Max’s breath caught as he realized what happened. The bells. They were metal, and he had what was definitely a terrible idea. But it was his only idea.

Quickly, before Dasher could retaliate, Max activated his bat. Dasher howled with rage as all the bells in his body strained in the direction of the magnetic center, and Max laughed with panic. 

“RELEASE ME AT ONCE-”

“No,” Max said, filled with thrill and panic, and directed Dasher back towards the clearing. The spirit barrelled towards it at supernatural speeds, a furious scream echoing through the night as he crashed into the snow like a comet. Max tumbled off of the spirit’s back, and the bat’s angle changed wildly, forcing Dasher in mad circles.

The other seven deer spirits, crowded in the woods, were as thrown into chaos as Isabel, Ed, and Isaac were, but Ed recovered fastest. “Max!” He crowed, head popping out of the snow. “You’re alive!”

“Somehow!” Max laughed, voice squeaky with panic. “For now!” In the corner of his eye, he noticed another spirit- a large one that was on fucking fire, so must be either Comet or Blitzen- and quickly swung his bat around to point at it. Dasher was forced to charge full speed into the other spirit, which dissolved into a wisp with a cry of shock.

Isabel whooped. “I can’t believe it! Magnet powers are good for something!”

“Serves you right!” He felt about to shake apart, and still dizzy from the crash, but spinning Dasher around like a top was easy enough- and the other jingling spirits were drawn in too. It was a glorious explosion of color, sound, and christmas spirits as one by one they melted each other away into whisps. Finally, only Dasher stood in the snow, puffing furious, cloudy breaths into the air.

“You will pay,” Dasher hissed. “Naughty children. You will not escape your punishment, this I swear to you.”

“Whatever you say, bub,” Ed chirped, and raised his scythe above his head.

“Wait!”

Max and the others turned back to look just in time to watch an arrow streak through the night and imbed itself in Dasher’s forehead. “No, no,” he groaned, watching Isabel’s face light up with glee.

Agent Day and Mr. Spender ran into the clearing, both panting and exhausted. “Thank goodness we found you,” Agent Day breathed, hands on her knees. “We were so worried that you were taken…”

“But I saw Dasher fall from the sky!” Spender’s chest heaved, and he swayed with effort, but he somehow managed to stay upright. “I’m so glad you’re all alright, even Dasher alone is quite the challenge to combat…”

“Nah, we got all of them.” Isabel grinned and punched her palm. “Max was able to yank ‘em around by the bells with his bat, and he got em all to poof each other. It was really easy to hit ‘em when they were all clumped up, too.”

“You- you really beat them all? Where are their tools?!”

“Right here, Mr. Spender!” Isaac called, arms full of a few rocks and sticks. “They’re, uh, not much to look at, but…”

“Amazing! Wonderful job, all of you- these will be great for the club’s stores!”

“But you shouldn’t have snuck out. We were so worried about you, and you’re glad we found you! Your grandfather is worried sick!” Agent Day wrung her hands together, cane stuck in the snow.

“Yes, he’s… not happy,” Spender admitted. “But, surely he’ll be proud when he finds out what you’ve accomplished?”

“Probably not,” Isabel sighed, sticking her hands in her pockets.

“...probably not.” Spender came over to put a hand on her shoulder. “But, for what it’s worth, I am.” Isabel looked up at him, then threw her arms around him. Spender smiled softly and hugged her in return.

“This is great,” Max groaned. “But I’m being crushed by a flippin’ reindeer, so can I get some help?”

Oblivious to Max’s irritation, Dasher continued licking Max’s hair life the reindeer he resembled. “You’re not so bad, I suppose. Resourceful child.”

“It always happens to me.”

“The arrow will at least last the night,” Agent Day said thoughtfully. “It should be safe for you to go home, in that case- you too, I think, Isaac! Since all the others are gone, after all… Maybe Dasher can take you home!”

“Nooooo!”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ms. Day,” Spender said. “You could perhaps take Isaac and Ed back to the dojo, and I can take Isaac back to his home…?”

“Yes sir!” Day smiled. “Merry Christmas, Max, Isaac,” she said. “I hope you get back undetected.”

“Thank you, Ms. Day,” Isaac said. “You too.”

“You guys suck,” Max grumbled.

----

It took a bit for Max to wrangle Dasher into taking him home, but under Day’s spell, the spirit was a fairly easygoing ride. As Max climbed back in through his window to his undisturbed bed, he heard the spirit settle on the roof to keep watch for the sunrise. And, taking comfort in not being discovered and in the knowledge that next year, when he’s a teen, he won’t have to worry about any of this, Max changed back into his pajamas, settled into bed, and slipped into a deep sleep.

[riotwritesthings]

Only a Phone Call Away

WinterIron, E, 1.5k, phone sex, crack, humor | AO3

For the @winterironmonth​, NSFW Sunday, TROPE/AU: Sexting/Phone Sex

You caught me, all I do is write fluff and smut. And Crack. This is all Three.

-

Bucky is heading towards the gym when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He wiggles it out, still talking to Steve, and barely glances down at the screen, just to see if it’s important.

It’s from Tony, and it says ‘Waking up without your fingers inside me? Tragic.’

Bucky walks into a door frame.

Steve gives him a confused look, notices the phone still clutched in his hand, and quickly says “I don’t want to know.”

Bucky doesn't text him back, because he has a lot of shit to get done today and Tony can’t be encouraged. The flaw in this plan, of course, is that Tony doesn’t need to be encouraged, and in fact takes being ignored as a personal challenge. Bucky remembers this far, far too late.

By the time he finishes training Bucky had a whole slew of texts waiting for him, and he makes strangled noises as he reads through the list.

‘It’s really too bad no one is bending me over this table right now.’

‘I can sit without wincing and honestly it is a crime. Someone should take responsibility for this.’

On and on and on the texts go, that patented Tony mix of ridiculous and hot as fuck and Bucky’s face gets progressively more red until Steve rolls his eyes and leaves the locker room without him.

‘My mouth is very empty right now. Just putting it out there.’ says the last one, and Bucky can’t fully contain a groan because he does not need the reminder of what Tony’s lips look like wrapped around his cock right now.

‘Then go eat lunch you maniac’ Bucky texts him back, even though Tony is currently in California and it’s a little too early for lunch on the other side of the country.

Tony sends him a picture of a suspiciously shaped sausage, and Bucky doesn’t know what he did to deserve this.

It only gets worse when Tony actually does eat. Bucky checks his phone while Clint pouts over losing the latest round of Super Smash Bro’s, and finds several new messages.

‘The only thing rearranging my guts right now is this kale smoothie, and it’s just not the same as your dick.’

‘My mouth is sadly empty of your cock. This hoagie just ain’t cuttin it baby.’

Bucky sputters and accidentally says out loud “what the fuck Tony, just eat your lunch.”

Clint shoots him a sideways look and demands “why can’t you people be normal?”

Bucky only makes it halfway through the afternoon. The final straw is the short video Tony sends him, must have been taken when Tony got dressed that morning because Bucky recognizes the background of Tony’s Malibu bedroom. He also recognizes the white lace panties that Tony is pulling on, has extremely fond memories of carefully removing them with his teeth, in fact, and the video ends right after Tony lets them snap into place and leaves just enough time to show the way his ass jiggles with it.

Bucky falls down the stairs.

“I can’t lie to you,” Bruce says, looking down at him and shaking his head, “I am going to be telling everyone about this.”

Bucky flips him off, pulls himself to his feet, and locks himself in his room to call Tony. “I am on the other side of the country!” He hisses in lieu of any kind of greeting, face still red and pants still uncomfortably tight.

“Are you? Must have slipped my mind,” Tony says, all faux innocence, and Bucky lets out a miserable groan. “You been thinking about me, baby?” Tony asks, and Bucky can just hear the way Tony is fluttering his eyelashes obnoxiously.

It still sends a bolt of heat straight to Bucky’s gut, has his slumping lower on his couch and groaning out “you know I have, fuck, even before you sent those messages. ‘M always thinkin’ about you.”

“Sweet talker,” Tony accuses, but his voice has taken on that breathy edge that Bucky loves.

Bucky is about to make some very filthy promises about exactly how sweet he’s going to be when Tony gets home, when the alarm goes off.

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Tony says with a miserable whine.

“Duty calls,” Bucky says, and he can’t quite hide his own misery behind his attempts to sound smug as he says “that’s what you get.”

“Okay, but I just want you to know,” Tony says, and nearly has to shout to be heard over Bucky’s protests as he finishes “I am currently hard and leaking all over this nice lace and I could really use some help getting out of it!”

“You’re the worst,” Bucky groans as his own cock gives a hard twitch, and he’d swear the alarm gets pointedly louder.

He ends up on a stupid top secret mission, because of course he does. Bucky isn’t allowed to have nice things, like phone sex with his boyfriend. He’s also not allowed to have his phone on him, radio silence and all that, but no one said anything about his secret phone that no one knows he has, so Bucky keeps that.

Tony made it, especially for times like these, and no one is going to be able to hack it. Bucky very nearly wishes he hadn’t, because every time he checks the phone there’s at least one new text from Tony.

‘Fun fact: studies show four of my fingers are smaller than three of yours.’ Tony texts him, and then a line of winking faces that Bucky really did not need, he can picture what Tony means perfectly well.

During a spare moment between fire fights, Bucky gets a text that says ‘My throat is sore and it isn’t because I choked on your cock.’

‘SEE A DOCTOR TONY’ he texts back, hitting the screen a little more aggressively than needed, and then has to move as the gun fire starts up again.

Three days in they get half a night of peace, because even super soldiers need rest occasionally, and the first thing Bucky does is find a bathroom to lock himself in, pointedly ignoring Steve’s glare.

“Baby you gotta stop,” he says as soon as Tony answers the phone, “my dick has been hard for three days and it’s starting to hurt.”

“You know what doesn’t hurt?” Tony asks without missing a beat, grin practically audible.

Bucky sighs and resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he says “don’t say your-“

”My ass!” Tony declares, loudly, and Bucky definitely hears someone groan miserably in the background on Tony’s end before a door slams shut.

“‘M gonna make you regret this,” Bucky growls, pressing the heel of his hand against his cock through his pants because oh, he has such a long list of things he’s going to do in the name of payback. “Remember when you came back from that couple days overseas?”

“Fuck,” Tony groans in response, nearly drowned out by the sounds of him rapidly shedding his clothes and yeah, he remembers.

“Gonna do worse to you this time, sweet thing,” Bucky promises, smirking viciously when Tony lets out an uneven moan, distinct sounds of him jerking himself off coming in even through the spotty connection. “Thought it was bad when you couldn’t sit for a week? Gonna keep you in that bed so long, fuck you so hard, you’re not gonna be able to move by the time I’m done with you. ‘M gonna have to carry you everywhere and everyone’s gonna know it’s cuz I fuckin’ broke you an’ you loved it.”

“Bucky,” Tony moans, his every breath a keening whine and the slick sound of his hand moving over his cock sounds almost painfully fast, desperate in a way that never fails to set Bucky’s blood on fire, has him frantically tearing open his own pants to get a hand on himself.

“You wanna tease me all fuckin’ week?” Bucky demands, equal parts frustrated and furiously turned on, “I’m gonna make you come so many times you forget words, not gonna know anythin’ but sobbin’ for it.”

“Fuck, fuck,” Tony gasps, and the comes with a drawn out moan that pushes Bucky over the edge too, has him biting down a low groan as he spills into his hand. “Hot damn,” Tony sighs, sounding breathless and smug, and Bucky can’t stop a soft, fond laugh from slipping out of him.

“You gonna stop distractin’ me now?” Bucky asks although yeah, he can admit he’s way less grumpy about it now that he’s covered in the warm haze of orgasm. ”Got me thinkin’ with my dick all the damn time, gonna get me killed,” he adds, just in case Tony has forgotten he’s on a dangerous mission.

“I’ll behave,” Tony promises, in that tone that means he absolutely won’t, and Bucky can’t help another soft huff of laughter.

He has another text waiting for him when he wakes up.

‘Sitting on the couch watching bad tv WITHOUT your dick in me? Just not the same. 2/10 stars.’

Bucky maybe accidentally breaks the phone. In the interest of his own sanity and survival.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Artie falls in love with you / Arthur Fleck short story

Disclaimer: Suicidal thoughts, sex, drunk Arthur, romantic, sweet

“How...how many kisses?“

Arthur was lying on the couch, burying his face in the pillow. The two of you went out on a date for the third time today and you were truly in love with him.

“Just tell me sweetheart, how many?“ He mumbled. The couple glasses of wine werent a good idea considering that he was on his medication and was never really drunk before. You felt kinda bad about his condition right now. But you really tried to get him out of his apartment and did choose a good restaurant to finally get him to eat something. He never ate propery and looked kinda starved. Also a side effect of his meds. You felt good, watching him eating half a plate today, so you ordered some wine,too.

You kneed in front of the couch to made sure he's comfortable, petting his soft, sweaty curls “What do you mean?“

He smirked at you “How many smoochies will I get from you tonight?“ His face lighted up looking at you. His childlike grin made your knees weak every time.

You kept on playin with his hair “Many,Arthur.“

“But how much?“

He tried to get up and kiss you on the cheek, making kissing noises and almost fell from the couch “Oooops“ he buried his face in your neck “I almost fell. Good thing I fell in your arms,huh?“ His breath felt hot against your skin. The smell of his hair felt like home. “Yeah Arthur, I'm afraid you're a bit drunk.“

Arthurs smile grew even more “I'm not drunk. I just love you so much and need to know how many?“ A sloppy kiss on the corner of your lips.

“Countless,Artie.“

He sunk back into his pillow “Wow, thats a lot!“

You took the blankets and covered him with it “Just try to get some sleep,okay? You will get all the kisses when you're sober again“.

He crawled up under the sheets, his beautiful face lookin slightly weathered. “Hey (YN) wanna hear a Joke? “

“Sure“

“So this man comes into an libary“ he chuckles in his pillow already.

"...and asks for a book on how to commit suicide.

And the libarian said  Fuck off, you won`t bring it back"

He can`t help but laugh about his own joke. His dark homor said more about himself than you wanted to admit but you were very drawn to his view of things. He always seemed to feel everything with an intensivity you have never seen on someone else before. Eighter if he was happy or sad. When you met him he told you he never felt happy in his whole life but you felt like it changed dramatically since you dated. Knowing that he was all alone by himself, expect from living with his mother his whole life still breaks your heart. Never have you met someone more caring. He loves to make late night conversations while cuddeling up under the blankets, about everything that was going on in his head. Sometimes he had troubles explaining what he was trying to say but you loved his way of observing things around him. He payed attention wo every datail. You admired him, which he couldnt understand. He loved to be seen and he loved that you listened to him carefully. But he still wasnt sure why you loved him so much. You guess he wasnt used to this kind of attantion.

"Thats a good one,Arthur!"

He was getting sleepy "Yeah... you know what (YN) there are many more jokes in my journal, you know? I want you to read it. "

"The jokes?"

"The whole thing"

His eyes got heavier now.

"There are not only jokes in it" his eyes tried to focus on you "I was writing about you,too.I want you to read it"

Your hand slit under the blanket to caress his chest "About me? Really?"

"Yeah" the scar on his upper lip liftet when he did that smirk and it always made you blush. He even managed to make you blush while lying drunk on the couch. You felt kinda bad by getting turned on seeing him in this condition.

"I dont know Arthur, I feel like this is kinda personal. I dont want to disturb your privacy by reading your journal.

"Just do it!"

"Artie, you`re drunk. What if you dont want me to read it anymore in the morning?"

He was leaning  over to give you sloppy kisses again "Thats why I want you to read it now." He was pointing his finger at you "Hey, wanna hear another one?"

You gave him a soft kiss on his forehead "Get some sleep, Arthur. You need to rest now"

He falls back into the pillow and falls asleep with a smile on his face.

After you made sure he fell asleep you looked at his diary. He really said he wanted you to read it. And that he wrote about you.

You werent sure if you should take a look. This felt so personal. On the other hand... You were more than curious about what he might thought of you. You just started dating and had your first kiss some days ago. He was a really good kisser. You guessed he didnt really knew what to do at first but he was so emotionally involved. He seemed to soak up every second of the moment. Like he really wanted this. He was right there in the moment with you, which you loved.After the kiss he confessed that he never was with a woman before and you think he was a bit ashamed about it. But he still wanted you to know. You didnt mind. You thought it was cute actually. And you wanted nothing more than being his first. You would love him all night. Like he deserved to be loved.

Another stare at his diary. You put my hands on the cover. Arthur Fleck case number 064823. Sure he had some problems. But you wanted the both of you  to figure them out together. You wanted to hold his hand when he was in the waiting room to attent his appointments. You still werent sure what the exact diagnose was. You didnt wanted to upset him by asking too much about it. But you knew that he took anti depressants and anti psychotics.

You opened the first page of his diary. Some jokes, really dark ones. Mostly about death.

You turned the pages. Observations about homeless people. More dark jokes. Sad thoughts about being left alone.  You didnt really read all of it cuz it still felt like you were disturbing his privacy. So you tried to find the pages which are written about you and searched for your name to pop up and there is was.

Your name was written in big, red letters that looed like lipstick. With a big smiley. Your heart jumped out of my chest when you saw it. There was something so cute about it and you imagined him drawing this the night, after you met.

You took a deep breath and started to read as your hands were shaking.

"Today I met the sweetest girl. She was new in my neighborhood and seemed to be different from all those aweful bricks here in Gotham. She has a nice smile. An authentic one. Not like my own smile, which is never authentic for so many reasons. I dont even know what a real smile is. But when I saw her , I smiled and for the first time in my entire life  it felt like a real smile.

So she had those big packages to carry and i was just standing there, staring at her and suddenly she asked me for help. I was never been asked for help before. People tend to ignore and avoid me a lot. So I was very pleased to help her with her packages. We got into an conversation and I told her a joke. And she was laughing. I love it when people laugh at my jokes. I mean, I wanna do stand up comedy so bad. I need people to think that I`m funny. And I know I am. ---smiley face---

Anyway, I felt like finally someone sees me. The next day she came up to me when I was about to get to th pharmacy and she asked me out on a date. I couldnt belive it at first. I have never been on a date before. I was kinda nerveaus. Why would a beautiful, young woman like she is go out with me?

Of course I said yes.

I was dreaming about this for so long. Maybe she could be my girlsfriend. This would be a dream come true. I already told her that I have some issues, because she asked me why I was going to the city and I didnt thought twice and told her I have to buy my anti psychotics. I know that this wasnt a good move but it seems like it didnt scare her away. Well, she doesnt know how bad it really is by now.

I really hope that this time she is real and I`m not having visions or daydreams again.

Sometimes its hard to tell.

Some days I even think the meds make it even worse. But at the same time I am afraid to go off my meds. I did it once and I did some bad shit. I even ended up in Arkham for a very long time. Which wasnt that bad really.

Sometimes I think I felt better when I was locked up.

Not being able to leave my room, being with my thoughts all day, drifting away in daydreams gives me comfort. Its like ignoring the cold, dark world outside. The world doesnt care about me anyway. So why should I? The sad thing is, I still do care. I thought about ending my own life so amny times. Almost every day. But I never really tried it. Its just a game I play with myself.

How long? How long until it is not a game anymore?

How long till I have the guts to do it?

Oh man, I`m drifting away again. I wanted to talk about the GIRL!!!

She`s gorgeous. Just gorgeous.

I wish I could kiss her. I`m 35 and I hadnt had my first kiss yet. Its TIME!

I tried it once with this girls from scool i was in love with but I got so nerveaus that I started to laugh at her face and she thought I was laughing at her. Yeah well... she ended up punching me in the face and I never tried it ever since.

But I dreamed about it a lot. How would it feel to have someones lips pressed against yours? Softly and intense. To taste someones tongue in your mouth, to just melt into each other.I would never stop. I feel like a kiss is a connection on a higher level and I really wanna experience it with someone.

I got some other fantasies,too.

They`re pretty dirty and I dont feel like I can talk about them right now.

So i`m gonna quit writing for today and hope that the girl isnt already sick of me.

You turned the page and took a look at Arthur. He was humming in his sleep. Looking peaceful. All the words in his diary overwhelmed you up to a point where you didnt know what to think anymore. You hoped he enjoyed his first kiss. You really hoped your kiss was worth the wait.

The next page was just black scribbles all over the pages. Little drawings of people and cats. A lot of cats.

The next page was written on again.

"Today I woke up and wanted to die. I don`t even know why. It was just a gut feeling. I was miserable andthe darkness was caving in on me. But then I thought about the girls I just met and that she really seemed to like me. So I decited not to kill myself. Not today."

You thought about putting the diary aside. This was a lil too much for you. You didnt knew he was in such a dark place mentally. You were kinda scared but  couldnt stop reading eighter.

"So...I remembered her kiss, my first kiss and this memory was so strong. I am sure it wasnt just imagined. This time I am sure it was real. It has to be. I wanted to distract myself from suicidal thoughts and started to touch myself while thinking of her. Maybe I should write her a love letter. Or bring her flowers. Or both. I think I`ll do both. Anyway, I touched myself while thinking about sleeping with her and I finally felt something again. I tried so many times but my meds wouldnt let me cum. It barely happens. Thinking about her kiss, her hands in my hair, on my thights, between my legs.... and her sweet voice on my ear helped me a lot. I felt passion and  love and  I came so hard, you wouldnt even wanna know. I hope Penny was asleep and didnt noticed anything. This would be embarrassing as hell. I surely made some noises.

I imagined that I took her hand and made her dance all through the living room to Frank Sinatra songs and we got closer and kissed. She told me how much she loved me and how much she wanted me. I held her face in my hands and kissed her so hard, all my make up smeared up on her beautiful face. I am always wearing clown make up in my sexual fantasies. It makes me more confident.  

She just grabbed me and took my clothes off, threw them all over the room, threw me on the bed and covered my body with kisses. I felt loved for the first time in my life and all I wanted was to be inside her. To wear her like a coat that keeps me warm. I imagined her being on top of me, whispering in my ear how much she wants me to fuck her.  And yeah I know in reality she would have dominated me for sure. But in my imagination I just got on top of her and made love to her till she was out of breath. I could almost feel her breath in my neck, feel her sweet, soft hands all over me. It was just so real.  I wish it was real.

Could it become real some day?

My body was reacting in a way I didnt even knew was possible before.

I want to expercience it again. With even more details.

I think i wil get back to bed and try it one more time.

And afterwards I will write her a letter. Or two.

I just wish she never leaves again."

Blank page

Another blank page.

You put the diary aside and got up on the couch.

You crawled up under his blanket and felt the warmth of his tiney, fragile body which you want to hold for the rest of your life.

[harringrovetrashrat]

I have an idea if you're interested in hearing about it!❤ Some pre relationship angst, I think. Basically Steve is driving home late one night in the pouring rain and hits a disassociating Billy with his car and finds himself trying to help because he's a nice guy. Just an idea, though!

This one stumped me a bit!  Whoever is monitoring my google searches is gonna see a lot of ‘what’s it like to get hit by a car?’, ‘hit by car’, ‘pedestrian hit by car’ and maybe think I did a hit and run, but hey whatever.

I edited the prompt a smidge cuz like,, I didn’t want Billy to get like hit hit with the car, but still like, enough that shit happened??  I def messed around a bit, and this ended up more Steve centric than I thought it would, but hey it is what it is.

Anywhoooo, hope you enjoy! (Fic under the cut)

--

Steve was driving aimlessly, unable to sleep.  Again.  Ever since Star Court, almost a year ago now, and honestly since the tunnels, he’d been fucking haunted any time he closed his eyes.  The sounds of the demodogs, the sound of the Flayer, the fucking smell.  He couldn’t escape it.

So now he drove.  Through Hawkins, around Hawkins, outside of Hawkins, as far as he could go.  Steve just drove.  Tonight, he was driving around town, just watching the shadows.  The windows were down, letting the warm, humid summer air in.  He could turn on his A/C, but it was nice feeling the heat.  Especially after--

Something moved in front of his car and he slammed on the breaks.  He jerked to a stop with a gasped what the fuck, but there was an undeniable, though small, thump.  Then there was a louder thump when the shadow slammed something on the hood of the beamer.

Steve felt like he might throw up.

He got out of the car on shaky legs, his stomach rolling, and made his way to the front.  When he saw what the shadow was, Steve was sure he was hallucinating.

Billy Hargrove stood there, unmoving, unblinking, just staring at where he had his hands placed on the hood of Steve’s car.

“Oh my god what?” Steve breathed, rubbing at his eyes.  Billy didn’t respond, just turned his head and looked at Steve, eyes blank.

The last time he had seen Billy was when he helped bring him home from the hospital.  His father hadn’t offered and, apparently, hadn’t told Max and Susan that Billy was going to be released.  So the hospital had called, Max had picked up, and had then called Steve, all anger and tears.  And, well, Billy had saved them.  Had apparently been really quiet and withdrawn and Max was adamant that he was way less of an asshole.  And he had been, but it was because he wasn’t talking.  He’d grumbled a thanks to Steve, had responded to Max with short and abrupt sentences, but other than that, spent his time looking out the window.  It was weird and had made Steve’s stomach twist.

Billy’s hair was longer now than it had been.  Still short, but it was starting to curl around his ears, all soft and cherubic.  He was still thin and hunched over, taking up as little space as he could.  But his eyes--

His eyes looked empty, almost.  Like he was lost inside himself.

“Billy?” Steve tried, nervous to move closer.  Because the Flayer was gone, they knew that, but Billy was being weird.  Once again, he didn’t respond, just kind of stared at Steve.  They stared at each other for a moment before Steve moved slightly closer.  Billy didn’t react.  “Hey are you okay?” He reached out, touching the back of his palm to Billy’s forehead instinctively.

“Sorry,” Billy said, voice shaky and rough, like he didn’t use it a lot.  Or like he had been yelling.  Steve wasn’t sure if there was a better option between the two.

“What?” Steve shook his head.  “I’m the one who hit you with my car-- Shit are you okay?!” He gave Billy a once over, grabbing at him to feel for soft spots.  Billy let him, body slightly limp.  “Does this hurt?” Steve asked, pressing by Billy’s hip.  Billy shook his head.  “This?” Steve tried again, this time by his ribs.  There were no tears in Billy’s clothes, so he wasn’t even sure where he had been hit.

“Can’t feel it,” Billy murmured, voice flat.  Steve looked up, hands wrapped around Billy’s rib cage.

“Like it’s gone numb or…?”

“Can’t feel anything,” was the response.  Steve pulled away, furrowing his brow.  He wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Billy shook his head.  “Home?” Billy made a strange choking sound and shook his head more aggressively.  It was the most he’d responded to Steve the whole time.  Steve bit his lip, not sure what to do.  “The police?” Billy crumpled a little, using the car to keep himself upright.  Instinctively, Steve reached out to help.  “Whoa!  Okay,” he said, voice tight, “No police.  You can’t stay out here, dude.”

“Nowhere else,” Billy replied.  Something uncomfortable tightened in Steve’s chest.

“We’ll go to my place.” The only response he got was a shrug, which was better than nothing, so Steve helped haul Billy, who was still staring blankly ahead and moving limply, into the car.

As he drove, Steve wondered why Billy was out at this time of night.  It was almost 2 now, and Billy was dressed in flannel pajama pants and a ratty old UC Berkeley sweater.  A look for a night in, not wandering the streets.  Steve’s fingers tapped on his thigh as he drove, wanting to ask questions, but not sure that Billy would answer.  He hadn’t stopped staring out the front window, eyes and face blank, like he was there, physically, but far away mentally.  It was so far away from the Billy Steve had known, he was almost like a different person.  A shell of who he was.

When they arrived at his house, Steve helped Billy out of the car.  Billy seemed to have retreated more into himself, which was kind of the opposite of what Steve was going for, so he did what he did best.  He rambled.

“I should have been paying more attention to the road, but I mean, it’s past midnight in Hawkins.  I didn’t think anyone would be out there.” Billy didn’t respond, just followed Steve inside his house.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?  I hit you with my car, man.  I guess it wasn’t hard since you were still upright but, fuck.” Steve gasped a little for air, the weight of the situation starting to crash on him.  “I’m so sorry,” he wheezed, looking into Billy’s eyes.  Something flickered in Billy’s gaze and his eyes narrowed a little in thought.  “I’m sorry I hit you with my car.  Like, twice now, oh my god.”

“It’s,” Billy paused, looking uncertain, “Okay.” Steve gave him an incredulous look.

“It’s not okay.  It’s not.” Billy didn’t respond to that, looking uncomfortable.  Neither of them spoke, just stood awkwardly in the main hall.

“Am I--” Billy said, voice cutting through the silence, “Am I dreaming?” Steve raised a brow.

“Huh?  No?” Billy’s face crumpled a little and he leaned heavily against Steve’s wall, sliding down to the floor.  “Billy?”

“I know I’m dreaming.  None of this is real.” His voice was stronger now, but still shaky.  Panic formed in Steve’s gut.  He wasn’t a doctor, but this didn’t seem normal.  Didn’t seem right.

“Hey, hey,” Steve said, voice soft and gentle.  “This is real.  I’m right here in front of you.” Billy shook his head and clenched his eyes shut.  “I am,” Steve insisted.

“That’s why it’s not real,” Billy said, voice cracking.  “You’re never around anywhere else.” Steve suddenly felt guilty and confused.  It wasn’t like they had been friends before, but it wasn’t like Steve didn’t also owe his life to Billy.  He could have said thank you, at least.  But it was confusing, the way Billy said it.  Like Steve was often around in his dreams.

He tucked that away for later; the night had been exciting enough.

“I never said it, but thank you, Billy.” Blue eyes locked onto his.  “Those kids wouldn’t be alive without you and you,” he let out a sad laugh, “You didn’t get anything for it.” He slid down next to Billy, not looking at him.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I expected after you recovered.  We didn’t exactly part on good terms.  But I should have come to thank you, regardless.” When he looked at Billy, he was squinting at him, confused.  “What?”

“That’s not what you usually say,” he replied.  He blinked once, twice, then rapidly for a moment, almost like waking up.  For what felt like the first time tonight, he focused on Steve.  “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we?” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My house.”

“Why?”

“What-- Why?” Steve spluttered.  Billy watched him carefully before flushing and looking away.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Billy?” Steve said, tilting his head.

“I sometimes,” he licked his lips, “The doctors call it, dissociating.” He picked at the frayed sleeve of his hoodie.  “I kind of disconnect from reality for a bit,” he said, stating it like he was reading it off a sheet of paper, memorized in word only.  “Usually when I, well, come back, I don’t remember it.” He shifted and winced, hissing in pain.  “Fuck, why does my leg fucking hurt?” Steve flushed and reached for his pants.  “Harrington?” Billy asked, voice creeping up in pitch.  Steve checked his calf and saw the beginnings of a bruise at the bottom of Billy’s knee.

“I hit you with my car.  You didn’t even feel it?” It made sense, but fuck.

“I don’t always feel things when I’m out of it,” Billy replied, voice tight.  Steve gently touched the bruise around his knee and heard Billy exhale sharply through his nose.

“Does that hurt?” Steve looked up, face drawn together with concern, but Billy didn’t look like he was in pain.  Maybe like he was freaking out a bit.

“You hit me with your car?” Billy asked, his voice still tight and stressed.  He was staring at where Steve still had his hand cupped around his knee.  Steve pulled back with a blush.

“Yeah, uh, you kinda came outta the shadows and I didn’t break quite it time.” He rubbed the back of his head.  “Did, uh, did you want me to call the cops now?  You didn’t earlier when I asked, but I mean obviously--”

“No,” Billy replied sadly with a shake of his head.  “I’ve had worse.  I’ll be fine.  I mean,” he chuckled humorlessly, “What are they gonna do?” Steve furrowed his brow, unable to answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Harrington,” Billy said, voice laced with exhaustion.  “No one is gonna care.  I’m still alive,” and wow did he sound unhappy about that, “So what is there to do?”

“I don’t-- I mean--”

“Lemme get outta your hair.” Billy began to stand, wincing when his movements were stiffer than expected.  Steve helped him up, grabbing his elbow, but didn’t move away and didn’t let go.

“You said you had nowhere else to go,” Steve whispered.  Billy paled and licked his lips.  “Stay.” Unsure ice blue eyes locked onto his and it made Steve’s breath hitch.  Neither of them spoke, just staring into each other’s eyes.

It wasn’t the first time Steve had noticed how beautiful Billy was, how handsome, but it was the first time he’d been almost overwhelmed by it.  Taken in by his eyes, the cut of his jaw, the very small smattering of freckles.  Steve realized he missed seeing them fan across Billy’s nose, skin kissed by the sun.

“Okay,” Billy replied, voice hoarse.  “Okay.”